Spotty Clouds

December 30, 2009
By Anonymous

The roar of the engine echoes to the back seat. I cling to the heat that slowly wofts its way to me slowly. The notebook on my lap looks beautifully vulnerable with its blank pages, just waiting to be changed and mainpulated. And I, the writer, dictator, feel that same fear and helplessness as the spiraled book.
I have nothing to write. Because my whole life has been one un-monumentus occasion. I have no originality within my writings and perhaps I never will. I suppose that depressive reality is what sets in on most writers. They are really setting themselves up for a life of self mutilation and heavy drinking. For me (if I can even honestly claim the name as a writer) I guess in the future I will have to deal with mental problems for the things I've seen and thought of. But today, this very moment, in the speeding car while the heavily covered sun slips further and further away towards the horizon, I feel numb and, well, contentness. Or perhaps maybe I'm just in the early stages of denial.
I am not depressed, to who may be concerned. i am simply begging the clouds and scattered stars for a piece of honest work that would be considered worthy of literary acceptance.



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This article has 3 comments.


on Jun. 30 2010 at 5:30 pm
BlueJeanBaby SILVER, Greenville, Illinois
6 articles 1 photo 7 comments

Favorite Quote:
"When they give you ruled paper,write the other way."
-Juan Ramon Jimenez

Just remembered I put this as anonymous. Shooooooot.

on Jun. 30 2010 at 5:29 pm
BlueJeanBaby SILVER, Greenville, Illinois
6 articles 1 photo 7 comments

Favorite Quote:
"When they give you ruled paper,write the other way."
-Juan Ramon Jimenez

Haha, I am so thrilled someone knows what I feel as a writer (or wanna-be) because it really is inconsistant and unstable. I was hoping someone would read it and understand. Thank you tons :D

on Jun. 30 2010 at 2:26 pm
MollyLager GOLD, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania
13 articles 0 photos 13 comments

Favorite Quote:
\"The real trouble with reality is that there\'s no background music.\"

So, in this short piece, you've captured exactly how I've been feeling my entrie life. Writers, artists, whatever you'd like to call us, feel things differently than everyone else. And we also set ourselves up for failure. We put our most personal and best contrived works out for everyone to see, to criticize. And yet, we do it. Why? Because it's a gift that we've been blessed with. The gift of expression.

Sorry for the long winded comment to such a short writing, but when I read this I got really excited. Someone understands! (: lol



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