IT’S OKAY TO USE “SAID” A WHOLE DAMN BUNCH.
IT’S OKAY TO USE PRONOUNS REPEATEDLY SO LONG AS YOU STRUCTURE YOUR SENTENCES SO AS TO KEEP IT FROM BEING CONFUSING
FUCK, IT’S EVEN OKAY TO USE COMMON SAYINGS AND CLICHES SPARINGLY.
DON’T PURPLE UP YOU PROSE JUST BECAUSE YOU THINK IT’S NOT OKAY TO DO THESE THINGS BECAUSE IT IS
DON’T TAKE AWAY FROM YOUR PLOT TO MAKE ULTIMATELY UNIMPORTANT DETAILS OF YOUR NARRATION LOOK FLASHIER.
Oh my fucking god this. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve stopped reading a story out of sheer irritation because the author decided “said” and simple pronouns were beneath them. It yanks you right out of the setting and distracts from the actual content. I did this a lot as a kidling writing fanfiction, and reading it now makes me wince at how pretentious it was.
TL;DR “said” is fine, lrn2write.
i never understood
what made your lips on my neck
such an intimate affair
until your teeth grazed my pulse
and i realized
you could tear open my throat
and make me bleed out in your arms
you chose to kiss
اللغة العربية • the Arabic language
to hear what I am saying and understand
that the way you’re tearing through my life is,
like earthquakes through cities and
lightning through the sky, ripping me apart,
shattering my spine and forcing every sin
through the cracks in my skin.
Learn that I am no valley to be rained upon,
to be sunk and hollowed into breathtaking canyons;
to guide your rivers to sparkling seas.
I am no panoramic to be shaped,
riddled with a hundred caves to fill with all your vices.
I am not a sweeping forest to be cut and zoned.
My branches are not for you to tear and burn,
to break and shape for tools and homes.
Do not strip me of my leaves or drain my sap;
I will not be left naked and bloodless
for a place to rest or a thought to chew on.
Keep your icepick fingers out of my granite skin.
I am not a mountain to be conquered,
to be climbed and toppled and marked for glory.
Don’t drill holes through my body to ease
your passage to understanding;
to see another side of me.
Turn your ship away from my silent shores.
I am not a continent to be discovered,
no blank spot on your map to be filled.
Do not believe I am a land for settling,
for escaping a place you don’t wish to be.
I am a galaxy, spinning wildly through the universe,
filled with holes and planets and eternally dying stars.
Do not attempt to understand me, or unravel my mysteries.
I cannot be explained with only numbers and words.
I will not be traversed in a single or a hundred lifetimes.
Instead, marvel at me: I am the setting sun.
Let my reds and yellows splash across the ocean,
warming your eyes, and melting your sorrows.
Let my horizons fill you with contentment,
and my inevitable absence be a hope; a longing.
Look up at me: I am all the stars in the sky.
As I streak through the void my subtleties are legion.
Let me grant your wishes in haphazard fashion.
Let me disappoint a hundred little things,
so that I may rain diamonds into your unexpectant palms.
I am the moon, falling on miles of quiet fields.
Close your eyes and listen to my soft music,
I will sing you into magic dreams,
and guide you gently into twilight places.
Let my light be one to dance beneath with ease.
I am the ocean: Vast. Wild. Free.
Look out across me, and tremble at my storms.
These thrashing seas bury wonders and worries,
drowning them in waters beyond knowing, fathoms deep.
Set sail on my waves and know, ever gently I will carry you.
Fall into me and wander; I am a dream.
I will terrify and inspire, confuse and enlighten.
Rush headlong through me, knowing I will vanish,
and then awake from me in rapture.
Shudder in my absence, revel in my wake.
If you are listening, these are more than words.
This is a confession and an oath,
that if you can stand the aftershock,
and leave my heart to it’s quaking,
for a moment I’ll still this eternity,
open up and show you.
|—||T. Ramirez, Upheaval (via rochelledelaroche)|
when they told me
make homes out of people
because who would be foolish enough
to plant the seeds of themselves
in a skin that wasn’t theirs, or in a smile
they didn’t own
but when i turned to show you
there was only quiet
and my roots
from around your ribcage
A psychologist walked around a room while teaching stress management to an audience. As she raised a glass of water, everyone expected they’d be asked the “half empty or half full” question. Instead, with a smile on her face, she inquired: “How heavy is this glass of water?”
Answers called out ranged from 8 oz. to 20 oz.
She replied, “The absolute weight doesn’t matter. It depends on how long I hold it. If I hold it for a minute, it’s not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my arm. If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn’t change, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.” She continued, “The stresses and worries in life are like that glass of water. Think about them for a while and nothing happens. Think about them a bit longer and they begin to hurt. And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed – incapable of doing anything.”
It’s important to remember to let go of your stresses. As early in the evening as you can, put all your burdens down. Don’t carry them through the evening and into the night. Remember to put the glass down!
I think this just changed my life.
Reblogging for myself and for a good friend of mine under a lot of stress.