WARNING: I honestly do not always take grammar seriously so if you are extremely bothered by grammar mistakes (yes, you, you grammar nazi) I suggest you read the sample real quick because that is how I tend to write. It’s not that bad but hey, maybe I’m biased.
SOOOOO you don’t know if you will like my blog or not? Want to read a sample of my writing? Obviously, that’s what you clicked.
I thought I’d be nice and give you a taste of what you are getting yourself into. Here is a little something that I wrote a while ago but, yeah, it basically sums up my style.
(WARNING: I do not have one style!! All my writing is EXTREMELY different. This is just a general one that sort of includes everything)
I don’t know what to say
He looks at me as if he’s never seen another human in his life. The glints of shock, disbelief and then confusion play like a movie sequence in his pecan-wood eyes. His hair is disheveled and his face caked in dirt. Against the dark layer of sand that covers his face his pink lips leap out to my own eyes. They are slightly parted and soft pants are released from them every few seconds. His chest rises and falls but his body remains still; stood upright with his arms hanging loosely at his sides and his feet balanced perfectly. His eyes are screaming and his chest is heaving but his body or voice does not respond to me. He just stares until his eyes begin to water and his lips begin to crack.
I do not know if he is happy or sad or angry or relieved. I never know. I wake up with the image of that familiar dirty face, cracked lips and swollen-red eyes every morning. It burns at the back of my little head the whole day and it decides to topple every sense of logic that lies within me. It forces me to wander to the thought that maybe, just maybe, one day it will be true. One day I will find him and when I do, I will never be sure of his reaction. But of course my common sense comes back and tells me a dream is just a way to communicate with yourself, not the world out there. It’s a a creation of your own mind and it never touches the outside.
And if you prefer short, sweet things maybe you would like to read my poems? Here’s a quick one:
A thousand bees have stung me before
And when they leave, they die
‘Cause when their bodies fly away
They leave their stings behind
But you, you rule the hive
You must be their Queen
‘Cause everytime that you sting me
Your sting just comes out clean
So, even though I secretly hope that you enjoyed that and will come begging for more, I kind of write these things for myself.
They may be confusing at times, so yeah, good luck.
I really am writing them for me but I don’t really mind (at all) if you leave comments saying what I can do better (in a nice way please) or saying that you like them (that would also be great).
I hope that you are here to stay