Entries By Sam
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 1,287 Entries
casting
I want to be casted into something, whether it’s a TV show, movie, or a local play. I think it would be really fun to act and, though I’ve never really done much of it, I feel like I’d be really good at it. I’d have to get over my entire phobia of being in front of an audience though.
Posted By Sam On 05.21.2013 @ 4:04 pm
rocker
he was a rocker. he felt an urge for destruction as a mode of expression. he grew with the influence of drugs, he burnt his brains out and made music with the ashes.
Posted By sam On 05.16.2013 @ 11:04 am
taboo
Everything in life is taboo. Is there truly a right or wrong betwixt the extremities of evil and purity?
Posted By Sam On 05.14.2013 @ 7:42 pm
loom
THE BUILDINGS LOOMED OVER THE DARK, FORGOTTEN STREET. ONLY THE MOON HELD LIGHT, ONLY SHE SHONE ABOVE THE BROKENESS.
Posted By SAM On 05.10.2013 @ 7:13 pm
beer
beer tastes awful. It is unhealthy and leads to potbellies. It is commonly assosciated with young people at cottages. Beer is a form of alcohol also assosciated with partying.
Posted By Sam On 05.07.2013 @ 2:20 pm
burning
Burning, burning, burning, we watch them all fall down. There will be no ashes remaining in this place, the road we left scattered to the wind. She will cary them softly and return us all home.
Posted By Sam On 05.05.2013 @ 7:54 pm
enemies
They used to be friends and they fell apart. Amidst the bustling bullshit they called high school, the very core of their being was disintegrating. They no longer could look at each other, let alone pass one another without clicking their teeth.
Posted By Sam On 04.29.2013 @ 2:45 pm
Enemies closer. My enemies are sinking in closer, coming through my pores in the form of sweat and dirt and smoke. My enemies are all around me, inside me. I can’t let them out.
Posted By sam On 04.29.2013 @ 1:06 pm
clasp
Cas clasped Dean’s shoulder in his hand firmly. He was going to have to exert a lot of his grace into pulling the man out of hell, and as an angel, he had lots of grace.
Posted By Sam On 04.27.2013 @ 4:24 pm
electrocute
i think it would be pretty terrible to get electrocuted…your organs fry, and your brain shuts down. your family will miss you, and you’ll never bake the perfect souffle.
Posted By sam On 04.27.2013 @ 10:26 am
energy… going through me.. you electrocute me.. water. i fall.. everything lights up.. its burning… i feel it..but i can’t do anything… i hear screams… save her, saver her.
Posted By sam On 04.26.2013 @ 10:01 pm
checkmate
“checkmate,” she said. he looked down at his hands, folded into hers. “I wish you didn’t have to go”, he says. She starts to fade, and he begins to sob, just like he did when he was 17 and his mother died. Only this time, hes 71, and just lost the love of his life.
Posted By Sam On 04.23.2013 @ 1:09 pm
magenta
is a colour and is also the name of a charachter in Rocky Horror Picture Show. I know that movie is somewhat erotic but I never really understood it. Not even as an adult did I really comprehend what it was all about. But that’s indicative of quite a bit of my life. There are gaps in my understanding. When everyone else is sitting around laughing about a joke I find that I’ve just missed the point. I’m the only person I know who need subtitles and wickpedia for all my adult interactions. But that’s ok. When I’m on my own, and I do like my own company it’s all ok and none of that matters. Maybe that’s why I prefer being on my own and this realisation should help me have a better acceptance of that fact about myself. Instead of feeling like a freak.
Posted By sam On 04.21.2013 @ 8:34 pm
geometric
The sweaty translucent globs of sweat snaked down her neck. Her fingers shook, nervous she clutched the mic.
The letters spilled out of her mouth. “Geometric, G-E-O-M-E-T-R-I-C-K, geometric.” She knew. She knew as soon as the fading kuh sound left her quaking lips to meet the deafening silence of a sweaty crowd that she had made a mistake. She held back tears.
Posted By Sam On 04.14.2013 @ 6:46 pm
anchor
You are the anchor that ties me to the shore. You are the thing that keeps me trapped and stopping me from going where I want to. Trapped. In a prison. Unwilling to let to or loosen up I sit in a harbour of boredom and anxiousness to the world around me. I want to be free. I want to be away
Posted By Sam On 04.11.2013 @ 9:08 pm
dashboard
I hit the dashboard hard, there was a big thud. I looked around and could only see blood.
Posted By Sam On 04.10.2013 @ 12:35 am
vines
vines are plants that are apart of nature. they grow and spread. they are pretty. I don’t know. hey grow leaves that absorb sunlight and the roots are very strong. They are green. They have insects on them sometimes. I cannot thonk well I am not allowed tp that’s the funny thing I am just going to write a loud of crap and hope for the best. I like vines but they can get very annoying for some people. everything is beautiful.
Posted By Sam On 04.05.2013 @ 11:03 am
vines are plants that are apart of nature. they grow and spread. they are pretty. I don’t know. hey grow leaves that absorb sunlight and the roots are very strong. They are green. They have insects on them sometimes. I cannot thonk well I am not allowed tp that’s the funny thing I am just going to write a loud of crap and hope for the best. I like vines but they can get very annoying for some people. everything is beautiful.
Posted By Sam On 04.05.2013 @ 11:03 am
smudge
I loved my grandmother’s old type writer. The click, click of the keys and the way the ink would smudge just so. I had to have it.. It took some convincing but she finally gave in. It was all mine.
Posted By Sam On 04.03.2013 @ 3:44 am
Don’t think. My hands are shaking. What’s a smudge? Can I type in the time allotted? Will my words make sense as I try and fumble with the letters that I see in black and white, crisp and bold. I know what it means, but what can it equivocate to? Am I spelling everything right? This is a mess, and all my thoughts mirror the pressure involved in having to write about a smudge in less than a minute.
Posted By Sam On 04.02.2013 @ 2:50 pm
It’s a mess on the page. Grey, filthy, a smear. A tear drop is the cause for the interruption between the fine lines and the pronounced letters in black and white dictating the story that she wished to be told. Her tear was the reason that from crisp and perfect it became an ugly smudge, a blur.
Posted By Sam On 04.02.2013 @ 2:47 pm
fabricated
People are facetious. Their egos are inflated, their outward appearances and displays of apparent aesthetic are often fake. Their words are lofty, while some may be articulate and others not so, they are often an inflated version of what they really want to say. People have a hard time expressing themselves in a world where how you are to express yourself is dictated to you by powerful and overwhelming marketing. Appearances, desires, purposes, are fabricated. Words, phrases, promises, are fabricated.
Posted By Sam On 04.01.2013 @ 8:02 pm
blasted
Every now and then I hear a cry. I want to go to it. To hold her. Comfort her. Tell her that everything is going to be okay. But then I see the blasted walls, bombed streets, and know I would be lying. I crawl aroung the corner and see her curled in the one corner not scorched by the blast. My vision goes black again, I lay down my head. If you only look at her, and nothing else surrounding you, it looks like we’re back to playing hide and seek.
“Nine, ten! Here I come!!”
When I heard the giggles behind the rocking chair I walked the other way.
“Where are you…?”
Rustling as she shifts to peek out at me as I walk into the kitchen.
“Where could she have gone?”
I turn back around and head back towards the couch. As I get closer to her hiding spot more nervous giggles begin. I reach behind the chair and grab her at her sides as she erupts into screeching laughter.
“There you are!”
I twirl her around and around till we fall onto the couch, laughing and squirming around each other. The timer goes off and we go silent, smiling as big as we can.
“Cookies!”
I head into the kitchen and open the oven door, perfect. I begin laying the cookies out on the
BOOM
My eyes are blurry and my head hurts. Everything is black and white. Are my ears ringing? Yes. God my head. I sit up, sirens are going off in the background. The TV is still on. The ringing is killing my head. But it’s not in my head. It’s Emma. Emma is screaming. I look around. The walls are gone, leaving this side of the house open to the street. Neighboors are running. Why? Screaming. I have to find her. I stand, too fast, and my eyes go black, the ringing comes back, but I have to find her. I left her on the couch, which has gone grey with ash. Shes hiding in the corner I run to pick her up. She wraps her legs around me, her body shakes with her sobs. I hold her head to my neck, and I start running too.
The helecopter flies right over our neighborhood. Emma presses against me so she doesnt have to look out the window. In some places, it looks like nothing happened. Mr. Klines yard is still green and Ms. Webbers garden gnomes and flamingos are still standing around the yard. But our house, and all those around it look like skeletons. All the flesh blasted off leaving nothing but bones.
The flight takes too long, Emma gets restless. When we land she trips trying to get out. I pick her up and make my way to the building where nurses try to peel her from my arms. They end up checking her as she sits in my lap. When we are finally released, we are handed water, two blankets, and are pointed in the direction of a corner where we can sit till food is available.
“What about the cookies mama?”
“Well have to wait to make some new ones.”
She nodds and lays down on the blankets.
We talk as the kids run and play on the grass. We try to guess when we’ll be able to move into the houses being built. About the future our kids will have. About the blasts we hear on the other side of the mountain.
“Living underground wont be the same. Im afriad for the kids not seeing the sun, or getting fresh air.”
“Nothing will be the same”
Kaity was one of the parents who voted against underground housing. When the desision was made to empty out the storage facility downstairs and build temporary homes, her and several others protested. They wanted everything to go back to normal. “The ships have moved on from this area, we know they wont come back. It’s safe now!” The group leadres had argued for days, but eventually, underground was safest.
“Kaity, we can protect them underground. And It’s not like they’ll never see the outdoors again. This is temporary. Not to mention that it will be good for them to not breath in smoke for awhile. You cant even see the sun right now.”
We look out on our kids, laughing and playing in the sooty grass. This is for them. What we want doesn’t matter right now.
Posted By Sam On 03.14.2013 @ 12:33 pm
tales
Tales can be a part of an animal or a story of happiness, tragedy, love, or adventure. Either way they are wonderful.
Posted By Sam On 03.11.2013 @ 4:23 pm
terrain
Jagged terrain. Rough terrain. Soft terrain. Mountainous terrain. The landscape of the world.
Posted By Sam On 03.09.2013 @ 3:12 pm
returned
My heart is a song When it beats strong I rejoice for I am living Got to go on living When it quites down I know that its sound Will fall to the ground I’m returned once more To that distant shore With a smile from your kiss still on my lips For in life I did sail a most magnificent ship
Posted By Sam On 03.08.2013 @ 7:15 am
signals
Mixed signals. That’s what he was giving me. Did he like me? Sometimes it almost seemed like he did. And then the next day he’d wave off my attempts at conversation and nonchalantly act as if he had no notion of my existence. Was I still in love with him? Sadly, yes, I still was. I still am. I always will be, I think.
Posted By Sam On 03.06.2013 @ 4:16 pm
weakling
She wasn’t weak. She could go as far, do just as much, as any other person here, she knew. But no one else did. No one else believed she could. She looked unassuming, long blonde hair that lay in a tangle of waves to her waist and large grey eyes, stormy like her current emotions. Her pale skin and flawless features worked to make her innocence and youth over shine what others would consider. She hated it. She was not weak, no matter what they all thought.
Posted By Sam On 03.04.2013 @ 1:46 am
conjured
The old man opened his robe and held the magic wand between his wrinkled fingers. He looked at the young boy and once again conjured a bear.
Posted By Sam On 03.02.2013 @ 10:29 am
