Post whatever, no actual quality needed. But don't feel afraid to tell someone what they wrote is shit either.
Post your writing:
-Brick-
The man was a brick. He sat on a road and waited for someone to come by and throw him. When the day finally came, he realized that he did not want to be thrown, and he promptly became beset with a deep and agonizing burst of realization.. He had lived his life to be thrown, but he did not want to be thrown. He just wanted to continue being a brick, right there by the side of the road, waiting for people to step on him to their fancy. He was comfortable right there on the ground, even though he was literally being stepped on, he did not see to become elevated, to become thrown.
Soaring throw the air he did not feel liberated, he did not feel freed, he just felt longing. He knew he had left behind the most comfortable spot imaginable. He had become one with that spot for such a time that their spots were so lent to one another, that no spot would ever caress the brick the same way that the prior spot had.
He landed with a thud upon the dirt and knew that the worst of it was over. But after a moment he realized that the worst of it was upon him, and it would never leave him.
Last night I dreamed I was a ghost and father too and we danced together for hours without having to worry about the rising prices of soy nor the increasing umbrella-related accidents during rain season.
gliding through life with the holy spirit gazing at the night sky with pale light reflecting from the moon continually guiding through the lapses of awareness while thinking of what it means to have a thought, sink into your bed as you lie as you relax, make a story to live with in the night when you begin to remove your mask, that reflection in the dark, the vague lights behind your eyes, it is late, the sounds creep in between being asleep and being awake
>>8198839
>literally
I need advice on this piece i wrote. i like it, but i don't know if that's just me, or if it's actually just shit
please share your thoughts
He didn't move other than to draw his breath. He intended to hold on for as long as he possibly could, as a final test of strength. With his back against a great rock, he couldn't see the sun, making it very difficult to judge how much time had passed since he first fell. But by the shadow of this rock, he had judged that more than an hour had gone by. However, even more time passed. Breath growing heavy, he couldn't even muster the strength to judge time anymore. He could see a faint darkness growing in the outer corners of his eyes, and the only clear thoughts he had were his family. His daughter, whose life had come to be right in front of his own eyes, lain into his hands. His wife, the best woman any mortal man could ever wish for. He would fight the greatest armies even in this condition if only to taste her sweet cooking one final time. Or, to lay with her. Have her on her back, arms tightly around him, breathing into his ear. Faint breath, darkness growing.
And with the image of his wife and daughter held in his mind he let go.
>>8198839
a few typos you might wanna fix
the point of the story is pretty clear, someone wants change but is too accustomed to what they know, and don't want i when it's actually coming, the rock doesn't know what they actually want.
I don't know if you wanted that to be clear or not, but i think you could do a bit more with this idea
>>8198919
is this supposed to be comedy?
