Im stuck. ive been trying to write this story for a class but i havent come up with anything good. well, at least nothing that has a definitive ending. its all little bits of stories. one of them involves a couple, or maybe they are roomates, who argue about getting rid of these two eggs on a jar that were forgotten and are now rotten. one of them wants to throw them out, the other one thinks that these could poison the raccoons who live outside. the other story is about this girl (or maybe boy) who really just wants to see the aliens so she goes to an alien hunting expedition that has people with signs and alien t-shirts but she feels so out of place among the all the drinking and drug use that ensues. the other story is is about a young man who builds boats, like little ones,models. this person is key to the story and many of the other events meet with him. but now im out of time to write this.
see that man in suit with tears in his eyes, yh he just lost his wife and told a thousand lies, he told them its fine i can still be happy, ill raise our kids and we'll be okay, everyday he prays for the storm to disguise his agony with just another drop of rain, he looks down at his phone and sees a miscall from his beloved wife she said my dear if you could ever forgive me, i hope to see you someday in another heaven
she sits in her tower looking out her glass window watching the world pass by, she watches the flowers grow blossom then die and rot, she watches kids hold hands and walk down the road with hope in there hearts and a smile in there eyes, she watches the men in suits with a brief case in one hand drive to work with the life drained from there soul and an emptiness in there distant gaze, she watches the tears from the sky cascade down endless buildings finally landing on the cold tarmac she sits in her tower and wonders to herself what it would be like to live like that
I'm standing on one foot at the top of a hundred foot pole, arms out, balancing. I've got obligations nudging me here, life-goals nudging me there. I've got deadlines blowing from this way, addictions blowing from that way. I stand here, counterbalancing against it all, trying to get these projects done. I just want to be the best I can be. I just want to please my shepherd. I'm a failing sheep. I'm looking down at the distance. I'm anticipating a fall, and trying to discern if I can survive it. I'm wondering who I will let down as the wind picks up. I'm asking my network for help, and they are offering advice. The pole keeps growing taller, I keep getting higher. My legs and feet are getting sore. I can't hold this pose for much longer. I want to sit. I want to rest.
he took my heart without even realising but forget to give me his so now theres just an empty pit in my chest, i only miss him when im breathing so maybe i'll be better off dead, at least then i'll have nothing to lose, nothing to get hurt over. no one can fix me anymore the broken pieces of my soul are lost under the stars and no one would try to put them back together for they would cut open there hands and im just not worth it am i