unfocusedthoughts: Everything you've written is lovely. I read everything and it amazes me that someone my age has such a great talent. Never stop writing.
A topic...Can you write about people who have changed?
Day 1, you started off as the person I never wanted to leave. Over time, you’ve become the person I’m disgusted with. How can you change in the blink of an eye? Everything we had was a lie. A lie that I believed. A lie that you made me believe. A lie that I’ll always have in the back of my head, one that I’ll hold on to for the rest of my life. What is it that made you this way? Was it me? I’m sorry, if I’m the trouble, for everything I did to make you this way, to turn your life around, and especially change who you are. But in reality, I know it’s all your decision. To change the person you truly are. You’ve become the person I never thought you’d be, and for that, I am thankful we went our separate ways.
violentkitt3n: Why do people act differently when there around there friends but when there with you its a totally different person? :/
Reputation. It’s the number one rule of high school. To your first period class, you’re the kid with the good grades. By ninth period, you’re the kid that parties. Others see you as their alter ego, always doing the same things as them. But truthfully, others know who you really are. Just another high school kid making a name for themselves. Standing with a certain group of people, you can barely look at your friend that’s considered a loser. A loser. That’s all they’ll ever be. At least until your friends go away. Then they’re worth every minute spent. Reputation. It’s the number one rule of high school.
andsoshewrote-deactivated201011: Can you write about your opinion on gay rights? It's a touchy subject, I know, but i like your writing, and I'm seriously curious. It's your opinion and I won't be offended if you say no, but I figured I'd ask.
If not, can you write about your favorite food in the entire world, or one you'd like to creat (like liquid pie, when you spray it, pie appears!! Long story).
It’s just a subject of writing; I can write about it.
We come into this world the offspring of those who created us. We do not pick to be the fastest sperm; we do not pick to be born to our parents; we do not pick our gender; we do not pick those we fall in love with. Whether morally right or against a religion, being gay isn’t a mental illness; it’s a lifestyle choice. We can’t control who we fall in love with, and if they’re meant for us, who is to say that we can not do what makes us happy. They make poke fun at you, call you names or tell you you’re different; but you didn’t choose this lifestyle. It was given to you for a reason, and you have to live with it. Those who oppose gay rights are sick individuals; because who is stopping them from picking their spouse? Gay, straight or bisexual, we’re all humans. Learn to accept people for who they are, not for what they do.
This was pretty interesting to write about. But in my opinion, I don’t see anything wrong with being gay. Like who cares? It’s not affecting me if two guys are getting married, let them do what they want. As long as we know what we are, then focus on yourself. I know I’m straight, so who gives a shit if someone else gets the same rights as me? In all honesty those who make a big deal out of gay rights are either in denial of being gay, a prejudice, or has nothing better to do than discriminate against someone.
Anonymous: Could you write a not about your first real long lasting bf?(:
Too young to realize what was going on, I met my first real long lasting best friend. Winter of 1997, I moved into the house that would become the place I spent my life in. Around the corner from me was a girl the same age, one yet to be met. It was a coincidence that our parents decided to take us to the park on that very same day, and that we decided to fight over the swings at the exact same time. But one thing led to another and we became best friends. From 1st grade through 8th grade, we spent every moment of our lives together. High school hit and we decided to go to different schools-one of the toughest decisions of our lives. But we still kept in touch through those cellphones that we would have never imagined possible the day we met, and made sure not to lose touch. To this day we still see each other at least once a month, maybe more, and go on vacation together every year. You’re my one and only true best friend, and I will never forget that.
Liars.
All you do is lie for attention. It’s that cool and collected attitude you tend to keep around everyone that makes you invisible to the naked eye. No one sees you for what you truly are, but I do. Every single move you make is planned - as if a predator waiting to feed on its prey. Nothing goes without thinking, and one wrong move may cost you the game. Your lying is becoming weaker as I see what you’re turning into. You know I’m onto you, yet you continue to embarrass and shame yourself. Even to me. You lie, lie, lie. What’s the image you’re trying to get at? Is it cool, popular, bad-ass? I’d love to know, because all you’re earning is the title of “Compulsive Liar that Can’t be Trusted”. Everyone else is starting to see you for what you truly are too, and that’s a shame. You’re going to lose everything you have, all for the sake of a lie.
Cheating.
“I love you, baby. Nothing will come between us. You’re mine.”
The words she kept with her every single night. He had said it only once, when they first started going out, yet she felt he meant it. He had to be loyal to her, she thought. He only went out to parties on the weekends. He told her that he didn’t want her to come incase she got caught. It was for her own good, right? Right. Or so she thought. He loved her. Nothing would come between them.
He said those words to mess with her mind. Once she believed him, his master plan would go into effect. He didn’t give a shit about her. He said it only once because that’s all she was worth. Bring her to parties? That’s a good one. She would come between him and the girls who always forced themselves upon him in their drunken stances.
The text comes saying “I saw your boyfriend hooking up with another girl at that party last night.” It can’t be true, can it? He promised he would never do anything to hurt her. Oh, the words of a genius. She believed it all, let him treat her like shit, all in hopes of never getting cheated on. He denies it until they break up, but she knows it has to be true. This whole time, everything they did together was for nothing. It was all a lie.
Anonymous: can you write a post about a guy cheating on his girlfriend?
Yeap, make sure to check back soon.
Loss.
Write about what it’d be like to lose the person you care most for.
I tell you all the time how much I love you, but I never know if you truly understand. A role model, savior, someone who is there to love me unconditionally through the hardest times. You’re everything I need in life and without you I’d be lost. All of the fights, arguments, and bad times wouldn’t mean a thing if I was to lose you. The good memories would be all that mattered. I’d cry and cry, angry at the fact we didn’t get to make as many memories possible before you left. What would it be like now if I told you what you really meant to me? Would you have respected me more, or would that have ruined everything? I’ll never know, and that is what upsets me the most. I didn’t just lose you, I lost everything that you came with. Your eyes, smile, laugh, voice, and conversations. Gone with the wind, and now all I have to remember you by are pictures and my own memory, soon to be crammed with other things. The greatest achievement in life is to be loved by many, and hated by few. You are that one person I will love forever, and losing you is the same as losing hope. I’d lose hope in the future, everything we would have been able to do together, and most importantly my best friend. Everyone has someone they would be devastated to see depart from their life, and that person is you.
Submitted by Penelopeelizabeth.Best Friends
You’ve deserted me. It’s as if everything we’ve done for each other is a thing of the past, longing to be remembered. Fuck you. Don’t try to make up some bullshit excuse anymore. The laughs, memories, games, trips, stories. Gone in the blink of an eye. You don’t talk to me anymore. You don’t even look at me as I pass you in school. It’s as if I’m inanimate, and you accept the fact I’m dead.
Klondike Bar.
My brother and I start off in the attic. It’s hot up there, but we don’t mind being we know the reward waiting downstairs. There is a clock perched on top of my grandmother’s antique dresser. It ticks a loud tick, one that can be heard in the silence of the night. We get into position as the second hand nears the 12, which represents the beginning of our descent.
10 seconds left. I glance over at my brother, who has already crouched down into his starting position. Time to get serious.
5 seconds left. Beads of sweat are dripping down my face, but there is no time to wipe them. The second hand on the clock has struck 12.
As if launched, we push each other out of the way as we race for the stairs which lead to the second floor. I take a shot to the nose, he one to the mouth. After reaching the stairs, we frantically run down them two steps at a time.
The second floor is much cooler, but much bigger. We jet down the hallway for the second flight of stairs, our dogs wanting to join in on the action. My brother always cheats when we get to this part of the game. He kicks my left leg, but I avoid it just in the nick of time. There’s only one rule to the game, and that’s no kicking. If he wants to cheat, then so be it.
We come hurtling through the living room where our mother is watching television, the kitchen in sight. It’s there within our grasp. Full speed ahead, we each run around the dining room table, one on the left side and one on the right. The entrance to the kitchen seems too small for both of us to fit through, but unfortunately, we meet there at the same time. I shove my brother into the wall and step through what feels like an entrance to fame.
The freezer is now in sight, teasing me from across the kitchen. But I have to hurry, for my brother is right behind me. I reach the freezer and swing the door open, a burst of cold air hitting my face. I lunge for the prize, but hands close on my neck.
They pull me down to the ground as I clench the grand prize in my hands, screaming that I have won. My brother gets off me, annoyed that he has lost the race for the treat. I bask in my glory as I unfold the wrapper and slowly eat the frozen delight.
It’s what we do every single time there is one Klondike Bar left in the freezer.
May the best man win.
Submitted by Melroseplace10.
Hey, my name is Frank. I’m 16 years old, reside in New Jersey, and am a Junior in high school. I’ve always loved to write, and never did anything with it. I've decided it was time to change that. Here are my thoughts on everything that pops into my head. You can submit me any topic you’d like me to write about, whether it be “a man who lost a tooth and got hit by a car” or “pencils”. I have an imagination that stretches beyond everyone’s reading this. I hope you’ve got all of that, so take out a pen and paper. You might want to take some notes.
