1/?
It seemed to be the perfect temperature, or rather no temperature at all. Everything seemed exactly where it should be; Except for the people. People dream their whole life, and no, I do not mean their ambitions. I mean that state of mind you enter everytime you feel like you've had enough for the day. Quickly fading out and then back into existence. Only to find yourself laying in the same room you have been for--what feels like seconds, but seconds are just what you feel. Others can change seconds into hours, days, and even weeks. To take this time for granted is obsolete. It is not by choice that we forget, but rather the will of our memory.

>>8075036
2/?
The roads were empty, and a soft, nostalgic tone filled the air around me, like a bathtub I could not escape. This was suburbia. Usually filled with the sounds of chatter, cars speeding by, and oddly enough, nature. This time it was silent. One thing seemed off about my quaint little house. The same house I had lived in for 5 years. Another sat next to it of a different variety than normal. I questioned this houses existence due to everything else seeming so perfect. The house was a bright blue, and reached a third floor. Realising that I had already drifted to sleep I shrugged it off. Having seen stranger things in this land I began my journey towards the highschool I experienced most of my teenage years at.

>>8075030
i had a dream that the spirit of an old woman was in my luggage

>>8075061
3/?
With peices missing of my travels I quickly appeared in the dead center of this school. Again, everything seemed normal. People were walking to class as I anxiously tapped my foot scanning the courtyard for a friendly face, and she caught my eye. A past lover who still resides in every chamber of my slumbering heart. Her perfectly kept brown hair swaying behind her. Eyes dark like chocolate. Eyes I could see perfectly from across the school as if the rest of this world was monotone. I walked to her with a smile because, here; I assumed there were no consequences.

>>8075072
Don't worry. I've had a dream that I drove luggage.

>>8075073
4/?
A quaint house, Side by side with someone that I used to love, or rather, used to love me. It was perfect. We came to a stop in my driveway, which stretched to the back part of my property. Mae glanced at me, then up at the blue house next door.I had already known what her eyes had said as if it was a sixth sense. The blue house was hers. "Come on Emory lets go meet my father." She muttered to me. I let out a chuckle but of course got no response. Mae never lived with her dad. She saw him every once in awhile but other than that her mothers house, with her ungrateful stepdad, was were she usually stayed. "Do you live with your mom as well?" I scoffed, knowing that dreams like these usually turn out perfect.
"No, my mother is dead." Those words were cold. We stood in front of an oak door that lay waiting for us to peak inside "perfection". As she slowly turned the brass doorknob I could only hear creaking as my thoughts shook.
"Finally a temperature."

this is so tremendously bad, i actually first checked through google if it wasnt pasta before i made this comment

>>8075131
Says the person who can't tell me how to make it better. Post some OC then m8.

>>8075139
Fine. Here's a piece of what I'm working on.

K Y S K Y S
Y S K Y S K
S K Y S K Y
K Y S K Y S
Y S K Y S K
S K Y S K Y

>>8075153
I guess this is when I go back and edit? Killing myself wouldn't be very useful to me.

Just take a workshop/class or something, most /lit/ critique is half-minded, disingenuous bullshit.

At least win a workshop/class you can see exactly who you're dealing with.

/lit/ is for memes now silly

only idiots post in the critique threads