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Writtin' Thread

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WriterofAllWrongs:
Oh power struggles in every form of relationship
You're right you're wrong your friend his wife
Their problems our problems
Toilet seat up or down
Shouldn't we both try to adjust the thing?
It seems to me like there are so many ways
To incite arguments and
Very few paths to a peaceful resolution
We'll agree to disagree means
"We'll agree to be bitter about the issue"
That's just unfair means
"You aren't seeing it through my filter"
Body language scrutiny
Intonation inquisition
Vitriolic nitpicking and semantics
What do you want from me?
To be an improved you?
To be a devolved I?
How about we be us?
Us seem to get along well enough
And after all it doesn't matter,
this is just senate in-fighting
This is just the two boxers having their match
And then going to a hotel and sleeping together
Ego booster as Self-Deprication as Waves on the Rocks
Loving acid spit
Putting a penny in Cola
We'll come out shiny like minted in a few hours

schimmy:
Go to a party.
Get drunk.
Talk to strangers.
Be charming. Be funny.
Make sure they don't know your friends
Pick one. Not too pretty.
Seperate from the rest.
Maybe fall in love.
Maybe get a handjob.
Go home. Fall over drunk.
Wake up in the morning
as lonely as you were before the party.
Now you're hungover, too.
Swear you'll never do it again.
Wonder when the next party is.
Where it'll be.
Who'll throw it.
Feel more lonely than ever.
Wonder where you can find decent friends.
Wonder when you'll have a girlfriend.
Wonder who it'll be.
Will you love her?
Will you see her often?
Will you be too clingy?
What'll make her leave you?
Wind up drunk again. This time alone.

jodizzle:
I wrote a little thing to keep the thread alive.  I have started drawing again lately, which has become my creative outlet and as a result my writing suffers epically. I'm much less poetic when I have been spending all my time drawing out my life.


When I first saw you the room was hazy and smelled of cigarettes.  I watched you watching her.  She was falling over drunk, pulling her dress further up her thighs as she struggled to stay steady.  There was something not right about you, something I couldn’t quite place.  You were menacing perhaps, but you sent a thrill through me all the same.  You were dangerous, that much was certain, and you walked with a purpose.  I caught the predatory look in your eyes as you stared at her and I ached for it to be directed at me.  You stubbed out your cigarette and whispered in her ear.  The decision had been made, and the devil didn’t want me.

WrathandRuin:
I had an odd dream the other night and, while I know that (like most dreams) it would make a disjointed, meaningless story, I had a story idea sort of inspired by it.  Here is the first 175 words and I would like opinions on whether or not what I have (mostly setting and tone) is worth pursuing (I see it becoming a medium to long short story).  I have only written two stories (very short) that I have found to be worthy of saving, and I'm definitely out of practice, so if triage is necessary, please tell me.

He trudges through the snow with the soldiers.  His clothes are a mottled white, lined with wool and fur and whatever bits of insulation he could scavenge at the last village they passed through.  The soldiers are as motley as his clothing, their uniforms: not uniform at all, their weapons: scavenged hunting rifles and heirloom revolvers.  Another village looms in the distance, a skeletal remnant of, if not glory, some happiness.  The soldiers pause at a well outside of the village to test the water: no good.  Too exhausted to fan out and surround it, they simply bring their weapons to bear and warily trudge up its single, powdered street.  He and the soldiers follow the spine along a shattered skyline of bombed out buildings, walls poking from the rubble like broken ribs surrounded by gangrenous, puckered flesh.  The road terminates at what was once a mayoral building, now an empty shell twisted into a hideous mockery of a smile; the gaping windows and the once enameled, now shattered, doors arranged in a prizefighter's grin.

Josefbugman:
The opening paragraph or so to "A report by Johnathan turaleyon, special ambassador to the German Principate: Or The Black Forest Incident"

So a new dawn begins, having been released from my minor duties within the industrial cities of the North, I found myself once again at my old manor in the town of Sandbach, I had missed the old place and my family that inhabited it. I rushed in and said hello to my mother and father and waited, as one is often forced to, for my brother to stop lavishing his attentions on his intended bride in order to greet him.

That was 6 weeks ago, and after renewing my contacts within the town and its environs, I found myself increasingly disheartened, a kind of melancholy had attached itself to me and I found that whatever I turned my mind to I was ill equipped to deal with. So you can imagine my surprise when, quite unexpectedly a message game through on the telephone. We had only just had one installed and I found it useful, despite its vast size and incomprehensibility though of course I made far more use of the Difference engine in my line of work. I picked up the receiver and was assaulted by the braying voice of Sir Charles Meredith, my immediate superior at the intelligence branch who had a voice like a claxon and the mind of a steam barge. ‘ Turelyon?’ he roared down the line ‘You there?’ I lifted the connected nozzle to my mouth and said ‘Yes Sir Charles, it is me, how are things at Rothoby?’ ‘Capital! But I am not calling you to talk about my house, I have a new job for you’. I grimaced the missions that I was usually given by Sir Charles were usually matched in both time and dullness. ‘I suppose I could do some work if it-’ ‘Capital! Can’t speak about it over the phone but will get it telegraphed to you, see you soon’ and with that he was gone, and I breathed a sigh of regret, just what had I signed myself up for.

What does everyone think? Its only the introduction, and I hope to make a proper upload of it later, but thats the sort of style I am doing it in and am wondering what people think of it.

Thanks

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