AshTheWriter

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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
luciliveshere
luciliveshere

Road Trip

You’re from a big city, doesn’t matter which one, but you’ve never really left. Didn’t have a reason to. But now you’re on a road trip, with a friend of yours, and decided to take some back roads to go get lunch in a small town, surely there’s nothing that weird out here? You swear you see movement in the woods but your friend, who’s driving, says its probably just a deer. You’re coming up to a hitch hiker, they’re hard to see, but you can tell they have a backpack. Their legs look weird but that’s probably just from their baggy pants, right? “What’s that?” You ask, coming closer to an increasingly odd looking person. They have a bag at their hip, draw string, like something to hold coins from Centries ago. The backpack looks well worn, odd trinkets hanging off here and there, most of them shiny. He has something on his head, a crown? And a generic gym bro shirt on, nothing special. Are those fur pants? “Just a guy, we should take them to town, its like ten miles away and he looks tired” your friend says “I wonder how he got so far out, they usually travel in groups” they finish. Your friend used to live in a small rural town. You start to ask what the heck that could mean, and since when do they pick up hitch hikers?

Then the car stops, and you get a good look at… It. Goat horns sticking out if a curly mop of brown hair, a freckled face with green eyes and a wide smile, the shurt says ‘Faun or bust’ and those… Aren’t pants. They’re goat legs. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Fall

The fall is a time for indulging. Warm pastries, and iced coffee, fried food, and home made meals. Its a nice season for sitting outside with your friends and laughing when the leaves fall in your hair, and a good time to watch the stars, because its not too hot and not too cold, and maybe you can even make smores today. Fall, to me, is a season of smiles and laughter and celebration

storytime story short story fall seasons bet no one expected activity i havent written for this in months i ghosted you but i came back for now
myfriendash-blog
myfriendash

She was a Shadow

She was a shadow. That’s what she had always been, and believed she would always be. Just a simple shadow. She wasn’t anyone’s shadow but her own, and that somehow made it worse. She’d go about her days, her weeks, her months, and years- but how many saw her? How many truly saw her? To most, she was naught but a ghost. A hint of what could have been. She was a shadow. A ghost. A lost soul.


She was a shadow. But she still had a life. She still had friends, or so she thought. She would talk and laugh, but was so easily forgotten by those who saw her. To her, time would simply stand still. How long had they been gone? Been rude? Been ignoring her? She couldn’t say. But she was almost always happy to pick up right where they had left off. From a few hours, to years, she’d welcome anyone with open arms. She was a shadow, but her heart was everything to her. Always welcoming, always happy.


She was a shadow, with a big heart. She attracted the wrong crowd, but always did her best to help. She tore herself apart, shredded her heart. She was left empty and bleeding so often, she couldn’t try anymore. If someone needed help, she couldn’t. It hurt. It hurt too much. She was the leftover remains of a shadow. The hint of a ghost. The glimpse of the last of someone. She still had her heart.


She was a shadow, a ghost, a soul. She was a helper, a lover, a rock to hold to when the tide gets too rough. But the shadow was broken by light, the ghost banished, the soul left behind. The help went unthanked, the love was used, and the rock broke.

And she was nothing


She was nothing. Had not mind, nor body, nor heart left to her. She was just It. There was nothing to it, and it was to nothing.


It loved and lost, and laughed and cried, and wished and hoped and prayed


It was foolish, and kind, and smart



It was loving and caring




But it was not missed.

She was a Shadow

She was a shadow. That’s what she had always been, and believed she would always be. Just a simple shadow. She wasn’t anyone’s shadow but her own, and that somehow made it worse. She’d go about her days, her weeks, her months, and years- but how many saw her? How many truly saw her? To most, she was naught but a ghost. A hint of what could have been. She was a shadow. A ghost. A lost soul.


She was a shadow. But she still had a life. She still had friends, or so she thought. She would talk and laugh, but was so easily forgotten by those who saw her. To her, time would simply stand still. How long had they been gone? Been rude? Been ignoring her? She couldn’t say. But she was almost always happy to pick up right where they had left off. From a few hours, to years, she’d welcome anyone with open arms. She was a shadow, but her heart was everything to her. Always welcoming, always happy.


She was a shadow, with a big heart. She attracted the wrong crowd, but always did her best to help. She tore herself apart, shredded her heart. She was left empty and bleeding so often, she couldn’t try anymore. If someone needed help, she couldn’t. It hurt. It hurt too much. She was the leftover remains of a shadow. The hint of a ghost. The glimpse of the last of someone. She still had her heart.


She was a shadow, a ghost, a soul. She was a helper, a lover, a rock to hold to when the tide gets too rough. But the shadow was broken by light, the ghost banished, the soul left behind. The help went unthanked, the love was used, and the rock broke.

And she was nothing


She was nothing. Had not mind, nor body, nor heart left to her. She was just It. There was nothing to it, and it was to nothing.


It loved and lost, and laughed and cried, and wished and hoped and prayed


It was foolish, and kind, and smart



It was loving and caring




But it was not missed.

storytime story short story new im not crying just something in my eyes hush

there’s days

There’s days the world just seems grey. Grey like gun metal, like asphalt, like an overcast sky. Days where your favorite person can’t make you smile, where the birds don’t sings, where the sky isn’t blue and the grass isn’t green. Days where everything tastes like chalk, that same choking chalk of daily pills that no one wants, the taste of ashes falling to faked cries. There’s days when the sun is pale, pale as rope, the color of an old letter no one saw. And sometimes there’s days when everything is angry, the cars are the angry red of an accidental cut, the flowers  the same pink of an irritated injury. The things that no one notices, the twitches and the winces and everything going too fast, and the days where you can’t breathe, like there’s a hand on your neck. The days where you choke on words more than water, where tears and cries get swallowed down. The days where you’re not okay, but it’s better to pretend you are. They won’t notice if I’m gone tomorrow, anyway

DONT TELL A WOMAN

I was once talking to one of my cousins, and in the lull of the conversation he turned to me and said

“You should shave your arms”

I asked why

“Because they’re hairy”

“Well so are yours” I retorted

“But I’m not a girl”

Well why does that matter? It’s the same body hair, and I naturally have less. What’s the problem?

Besides, body hair was originally to keep us warm, and have you seen women’s clothes? They’re thin and most don’t leave much to the imagination, no matter what season they’re for.

And don’t say I can just wear a sweatshirt, I do that. I wear an oversized sweatshirt because it’s comfortable, which is also why I wear pants that were made for men. People tell me to wear the skin tight jeans, and thin uncovering shirts, because how else will someone know there’s a beautiful woman under these clothes?

I have a nice figure, I won’t lie, but it’s mostly because of genetics. Personally, I’m uncomfortable with it. Because people stare. So I wear my big baggy clothes, because I’m happy in them.

Don’t tell a woman to shave unless you would
Don’t tell a woman to wear this or wear that
Don’t tell a woman to smile more
Don’t tell a woman ‘you would be prettier if-’
Don’t
Just don’t
It’s rude

And frankly, if they’re like me, it only makes them want to avoid people altogether

personal story short story storytime sereously what is wront with people
jjamescat
fuwaprince

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FREE 24/7 suicide hotlines:

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(Source)

uie

ALWAYS REBLOG WHEN YOU SEE SOMETHING LIKE THIS PLEASE; ITS SO MUCH MORE THAN IMPORTANT TO PEOPLE. IT MEANS EVERYTHING TO SOMEBODY AND EVEN THOUGH YOU MIGHT NOT SEE THIS IN THE SAME LIGHT, SOMEONE MIGHT. INFACT YOU REBLOGGING THIS COULD STOP SOMEONE TAKING THEIR LIFE TONIGHT.

Source: fuwaprince