Creative Writing - Belonging The clear‚ bright and enlightening blue skies greet my face as I ponder through my thoughts in my head. The sun blossoms it’s radiating sunlight‚ which glisten and reflect off the tranquil‚ wavy sea to reveal elements of a mystifying‚ inexplicable‚ yet convivial world. My heart beat pulsates through my ears… so silent and blissful this world of beggaring-description‚ words could not hope to utter moments like these. It was the idea of confronting‚ change and experience
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would reluctantly come to a close we’d roast marshmallows by the fire followed by an adventurous game of spotlight in the sea of trees that is my backyard. Yes‚ the typical Lakehouse day will remain cemented in my mind as a true highlight of my childhood. As we return there now‚ the same gang and I‚ nothing much has changed. The sun still shines glistening on the great blue lake. Kuratau remains the simplest of places. The sea of trees still glares at
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shattered like a mosaic vase that had fallen from its perch. Looking at the severely battered screen and small pieces of glass strewn over the floor‚ I stood in shock. After my jaw closed and face regained its color‚ I hurried to tell my mom of about the incident. Surprisingly‚ she did not deride me for the unfortunate mishap. She smiled reassuringly and told me that I could get her screen replaced. However‚ the problem would never be resolved; more than just my phone was broken that
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Reflective Essay Conclusion: During writers craft the genre that I enjoyed writing most was poetry. I love everything about poetry. Poetry is a piece of writing that can be interpreted in many different ways while being written in one. My favorite part about class was writing poetry and the many different types of poems we wrote. I was not too big on the fact of reading poems in class sometimes that where too hard for me to understand. I am more of a reader who likes to know what is going on
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Creative Writing He had stood that day‚ the world’s foremost spokesman of popular government‚ saying that democracy was yet worth fighting for… He incarnated the assurances and pretenses of popular government‚ implied that if could and might perish from the earth… He did not assume that the drafted soldiers‚ substitutes‚ and bounty – paid privates had died willingly under Lee’ shot and shell‚ in deliberate consecration of themselves to the Union cause. His cadences sang the ancient song that
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Once there was a girl. A girl that didn’t think she ever mattered. Sure‚ she had good parents and decent grades‚ but she never thought herself to be worth anymore than a plastic wrap on the ground. The girl isolated herself whenever she could‚ only speaking when it was required by her teachers. Even so‚ half the grade thought she was mute. She learned a fair amount of sign language to encourage the rumor‚ just so that more people would leave her alone. If anyone had truly paid attention to her
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‘Please take a seat‚ I will be back in a second’ Said Mr. Alford‚ as he pointed his hand towards the lounge. I nodded gently as I walked pass my parent’s old bedroom. As I looked around‚ the bedroom itself hadn’t changed much since I was a little kid; I haven’t seen it in a while thought. I remember how I came in here a lot in the middle of a thunderstorm at night to wake my mother up‚ as I was too scared to sleep by myself. My father hated that! However‚ my mother always laughed her head off as
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Insomnia A/N: I don’t ship EreRi‚ but this was surprisingly easy to write. And quite enjoyable. I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’m now going to cry because I’m a piece of shit who doesn’t know how to prioritise and is really‚ really stressed because of it. . . . For the fourth time in a row‚ Eren can’t sleep. Throwing the sheets away from his body‚ clammy and gross as shit‚ Eren scrubs his hands over his face and emits a groan of frustration. He (figuratively
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Creative writing: Achievement standard 2.4 Title: Insanity Statement of intent: This piece was influenced by my feelings and thoughts on mental illness and how society deals with it. The piece itself is a metaphor of looking beyond a person’s appearance and what they are truly dealing with inside. I have experienced the effects of a mental illness and how it effects your daily routine. The perspective is a doctor who is working with a mentally sick patient and has to tell her she is making no progress
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A slight breeze blew throughout the dandy forest‚ swaying the stiff lifeless trees and blowing the black stained leaves across my bare white feet. As I stumbled across the dead landscape‚ a slight fog swam around blending in with the increasingly falling snow. Hundreds of dark wood surrounding me seemed to slowly cave in‚ creating a narrow cave-like passage. An eerie feeling swept over me‚ and I stopped completely‚ analysing every detail around me. The smog became thicker‚ blinding the scenery and
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