Over the past couple of months i've been randomly scribbling down little paragraphs of writage that just pop into my head- some of these random scribbles go on to become something, like a short story, or even an entire first chapter to a novel i'm still not entirely sure i'm writing. However, some of them have yet to go anywhere, but i'm still very proud of them, and know that i'll end up fitting them in somewhere.
Because i'm doing exams at the minute my confidence in my ability to write is in an all-time-non-existing-type-situation, and so reading through these little, er, 'literary snibbits' boosts my ego somewhat. when relaying this to my dad he said "Well, why don't you put them on that blog of yours? Surely that'd boost your confidence even more?"
And so, at the request of Pandy here are some of the 'snibbits'. Also i'm now in love with the word 'Snibbits'.
(All of the below, and technically everything above these brackets, was written by me, Amy, and haven't been seen before by anyone else, apart from MEIN EYES)
Reactions
‘Aint it funny the way people react to things differently? I’ve always considered reactions to be the best way of making out what a person truly is or at least have the potential to be. They can be hugely ironic too, given the right medium. For example the might of fundamental nature, turning our world, can inspire a man to find himself, stand up and stand out, gives an essence of supremacy and stability; whilst at the same time that world turning power can haunt a person, make them meek as they try to comprehend and drive their minds to nothing but shear lunacy. A lot can be said for naturally occurring power. It’s the same with love, really- the right amount of love can make a person better than they were. But you fall into the wrong kind of love and you’ll be several shades less of a man. It’ll change your face whilst the wind is blowing, and before you know it you look in a mirror and don’t recognise the ruin that’s cracked in front of you.
Homeward Bound
Suddenly none of it made sense anymore. Why I had left, why I was still leaving. The desperation in her voice shook me and accidentally knocked open my book to a page I didn’t realise was even there- the question of why? Why did I choose to stay away from the ones who needed me the most? What sense did it make, no matter how many happy times you have away from them they’ll never equate to the times you had with your loved ones; a funny occurrence away from them would be hysterical if only they were there to share it. A moment of sentimentality becomes wave upon wave of emotion as soon as they draw near. I’d made up my mind before I had even hung up the phone- I mean, like Dorothy said “There’s no place like home”, right?
The first thing I noticed was how quickly it had grown dark. The artificial daylight of the streetlamps coated everything in a bronze overtone and hid away the real colour of the night, and I realised that maybe standing in the middle of a suspiciously quiet road at – Damn, it was 11 already? When had that happened? Anyway, it wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had. I walked for about 10 minutes until I reached the high-street and started to look for signs of a bus shelter, or a train station, a taxi, anything- anything that would bring me closer to home, and away from the rambling drunks now stumbling toward me. I veered away from them, it wasn’t hard, ignoring their half-hearted attempts at roadside seduction – Mmm, classy- toward a takeaway outlet that, whilst to me looked dingy and in serious violation of every single health code, the drunks seemed to be flocking towards, as if it was some neon accented Mecca.
Something to be said
There’s something to be said for falling for the wrong person. For a start, it often involves wanting what you can’t have- a twisted reflex that lives within the best of us. When the object you lust for is simply an object, such as money or a car then the pain of not getting want you want has more to do with jealously than anything. When it’s a physical person, someone who you wish you could reach out and touch or kiss or hold either for the first or last time that’s when the pain becomes more than a shallow emotion and more of a physical affliction. Love makes us irrational, makes us believe in things that will never be, and even when everyone else around you is in utter disbelief that you have those feelings to start with to you it makes sense. Imagine how awful it is when the stupidity is held in the fact you’re not together, not that you love that person in the first place. Imagine how awful it would be if the only person you wanted to realise how amazing you would be together is the only person who doesn’t. Imagine finding someone who you believed to be the pinnacle of everything you wanted, and then being told you couldn’t have them. Then imagine being told that they’re not who you thought but not being able to pull yourself away.
I'm really proud of all of the above pieces. There's tons more, but they wouldn't make as much sense in this kind of singular paragraph situation- they need to find themselves a home amongst some of the other drivel that falls out of my mind ^^ Maybe when they've found that home i'll show it on here
xXx
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