Name: Andrea Age: 24 Location: Winter Springs (Orlando), FL Birthday:(So we can wish you a happy one!) 6/19/80 (I'll be 25) Sign: Gemini Grade you're in: Senior in College Y.O.G.(Year of Graduation): 1998 from high school, 2006 in college
-Post a 2 poems/stories that you have written in the past that show significant changes in your writing styles. (Length is not an issue.)
Doorways and Windowpanes (recent)
So I walked inside and shut the door, secluded myself inside these four walls. What a long day it had been, Such is the usual, same in, same out, same four walls, same four hours, Excitement is overrated anyway, or so I thought Until that knock on my door some hours after I had resigned to monotony...
Many times now the decision was made leave that door closed, leave myself cut off keep everything familiar locked in place no change, prefent the same beginning, same ending, same false hopes, same broken heart loneliness is underrated anyway, or so I believed until I changed my mind, opened the door, and stared opportunity in the face.
So, I let him in on a trial basis and we talked awhile as I gazed out the window a little nervous and unable to make eye contact eyes are the window to the same soul, same empty stare same blank mind, same internal scar, openness is too complicated anyway, so I had accepted, until I heard him speak, with such softness that I could not help but use my voice...
Such words he spoke that night that Showed that this was someone I always knew had been a key part missing from my life as we shared this same moment, same feeling same thought, same intensity happiness was never unconditional until now, until I saw my walls become transparent, as he saw right through me and into my soul...
Unforgettable was this night I knew, as I let him take my hand in his and walk me through the door, outside my little world as we now shared one soul, one touch, one heart, one love soulmates were nonexistant to me until now, as we began our epic story, everlasting, never-ending, and eternal.
Blur (written in 1998, right after I graduated high school) I watch the second-hand Ticks the seconds of my life away and I wonder How did I get here and when did I decide to become Who I am, sitting here today? Or did I decide? Or is it me at all Sitting at watching the time of my life go by? Years from now, will I think of the me of today and wonder -- What was I thinking as the pen scrolled across this paper of mine? And was it really my thoughts that I poured onto the paper, thinking of the minutes and seconds that flew by like a robin-bird, Blurry and red across the sky of hope? Five minutes have passed and what have I accomplished? Schizophrenic thoughts just dying to come out No real order or no real plan, Just my hand shaping the letters of my heart And what is that boy of mine doing - Last night, he talked in a tone of renewed love And I missed it when he said it, but maybe we're both afraid of what's to come Because we don't know, we're always ever really into counting the days but what is a day? Collections of minutes and seconds and hours And never really knowing where we'll be tomorrow And will these wasted hours just go on and on So confused and just gathering in a never-ending cycle and no way to get out My words always coming out wrong And was that light I just crossed red or green? Or was that person that nearly hit my car just a moron? Or was it me? I toil and work and stress and think all day every day but what for? Are any of my thoughts really absorbed and when I speak does anyone hear me? If I stopped singing would I start to cry? Sitting here I can't remember, what was that THING I always used to think? And what the hell is my point? I never make any sense and my words wrap around and make contradictions because I never really know what I believe Until I say it and I often disagree with myself. Ten minutes have passed and I still won't be late for class. I don't like my class anyway. But confused as I am, I like my life and all writing is, is just strings of thoughts Who cares if they make sense? My bag is broken again but it can be fixed, No need to worry. And I really must be going but I leave myself With this -- Who needs more in life than a pen, some paper, and some really blurry thoughts?
-Post a story/poem that you have used for school/a class and the grade you got on it.
A Light in the Tunnel Distressed hair is tossed across your forehead Peeking through half open, unaware eyes It is almost a moment shared But only for the awareness of one As eyes close, enveloping the consciousness Not cognizant of this interlude Again watching your chest rise and fall… And I gasp at the possibilities When you so closely resemble an apparition But in a fully tangible state.
(Wrote this for my creative writing class last semester, I got an A on it.)
I was going to post a story I wrote but it was 8 typewritten pages (single spaced) so I figured that might be a little long.
-Write a poem/story about the weather/write a poem about the time of day right now.
Between the one and twenty-five A blinking stop sign Makes its impression On the inside of my eyelids I cannot keep them closed long enough To squeeze it out Or to cast the sheer shadow of slumber
-Use one of the following sentences in a first person short story, with the sentence as the last line or as the first line. (Bold the sentence.)
I somehow knew the pavement felt cold. I don't know how I knew this, since my newly apparitioned self was clinging like a monkey, with one arm, to a metal bar on the ceiling, staring down at my lifeless body on the pavement. Maybe there was still a little bit of life left in me that allowed me to feel the cold of the pavement and smell the smell of subway exhaust. As I watched the paramedics shock what used to be my body, the distance between us grew. They continued to shock me, while another crew came and loaded me onto as stretcher. A subway train was coming down the tracks. As it pulled into the station and came to a halt, I wondered what the passengers exiting the train would think of seeing a dead body? The paramedics pulled a cloth over my face and wheeled the stretcher with my body on it onto the subway car.||I guess this means that my life is on a one way train to nowhere, and what am I supposed to do to stop it?|| (This is really mediocre for my writing...I apologize...I'm going on 2 hours sleep and it's already 1am...)
-What is the one topic that you most commonly write about and why?
In my journaling, I usually write about my fiance since he's pretty much all I have in the world. In my actual creative writing, I write when my feelings are provoked, so I've covered anything from frustration with gay rights issues to the loss of a loved one.
-When did you first start writing?
I wrote my first "short story" when I was about 3 or 4 years old (I am an overachiever, I know...my parents used to give me reading and writing workbooks when I was young, I learned to read at age 2...), and I've just kept on going from there.
-Is/do you want writing to be a part of your career or future? Yes, my major in college is creative writing.
-Do you prefer writing about yourself or other people and why? I prefer to write about myself as though I'm writing about someone else. When it comes to writing, you don't know any perspective but your own so you have no other choice.
You can post a picture of yourself if you'd like, but it is not mandatory. (If you choose to post pictures, please don't post more than five.)
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Let us know what you like
TWELVE MOVIES: 1. American Beauty 2. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind 3. Garden State 4. Requiem for a Dream 5. Jerry Maguire 6. 28 Days Later 7. Super Size Me 8. Back to the Future 9. Clerks 10. Mallrats 11. Say Anything 12. The Breakfast Club
ELEVEN GOOD BANDS/ARTISTS: 1. Alkaline Trio 2. Fall Out Boy 3. Saves the Day 4. Taking Back Sunday 5. Punchline 6. Brand New 7. The Promise Ring 8. Our Lady Peace 9. Matchbook Romance 10. Bright Eyes 11. The Spill Canvas
TEN THINGS ABOUT YOU: 1. Red hair 2. Freckles 3. Pale Skin 4. Engaged - getting married July 5th 5. Been in college 7 years - I fear I am a career student 6. My job sucks, but my "hate" provides endless sources for inspiration 7. I have a younger sister in the military, she is like a best friend to me 8. Cockroaches terrify me beyond words 9. I have three cats who I absolutely ADORE. 10. I read like books are going out of style.
NINE GOOD FRIENDS: 1. Scott (my fiance) 2. Cara 3. Rachel 4. (I'm gonna have to stop here because I don't HAVE any others...::sadface::) 5. 6. 7. 8. 9.
SEVEN THINGS YOU WEAR DAILY: 1. Vans sneakers 2. T-shirt 3. Jeans 4. Bra 5. Engagement ring 6. Socks 7. Underwear
SIX THINGS THAT YOU HATE: 1. COCKROACHES (I say this again because I killed TWO of them tonight) 2. Bad spelling 3. Pessimism (it's ok to be negative sometimes but I'm referring to people who hate the world) 4. Bruessels Sprouts 5. Drinking water with food 6. Paying bills
FIVE THINGS YOU DO DAILY: 1. Go to work 2. Put on make up 3. Kiss my fiance 4. Write 5. Read
FOUR SHOWS YOU WATCH: 1. 24 2. American Idol 3. The Simpsons 4. Family Guy