When I think about how old I am, I no longer consider how many years I’ve lived but rather the time I’ve had to endure with you missing from me.
A story of vigorous youth and adolescent romance, the rippling effects of a single good deed materializing into an all absorbing endless love as well as an unfortunate inescapable fateful encounter. Hidden trauma from a significant loss in a family that masquerades as an influential echo of a close one’s personality and spirit. Reckless pretentious notions of a teenager too strong willed for his own educational good. This is a story of the line between devotion and obsession, between nurturing and possessive behavior. A story that illustrates the struggle of growing up as the person you are and the person you want to be for those near and dear to you. This is the story of a boy who saved a stranger, forged an enemy in the shadows and valiantly came when called upon once again to help a kind lost sibling of his great love. Without knowing the dangers his future would hold, like no one can predict, he lives his life the way he wishes and does his best to simply be, a good man. Meticulously detailed, shrouded in a cryptic veil of a lingering and looming evil, spliced together are the thoughts of the protagonist to the reader that one will experience a submerging suffocation into the depths of his psyche or an illumination into the most sacred and vulnerable corners of the human soul. This is a story of an unwavering love and how far such an expression singular to humankind can venture into the abyss of darkness and still reconcile a passageway back into the light. Violence and future delusions lurk within the nightmares of Alexander Parson yet hope, happiness, and Kaylee Cardinale beckon him to overcome sanity and reason, to remain with her, no matter the reality he ends up awakening to.
If you don’t hold your breath during under water scenes in films.
We can’t be friends.
46 chapters down, 3 to go.Edit: 15 pages down, 207 to go.
Reprint: 44 pages down, 146? to go.All finished. Just need to enter my entry.
I truly have no one to talk with about anything anymore. Just as well though, most care too less for what I do or care far too much for what I do not. Societies impression upon their lives since that first commercial.
So I want to submit my old book to their new authors new novels publishing contest but the contractual agreement you sign off on just by entering is completely flawed for the writers.
After the first publication. You lose all rights to any other material Amazon chooses to create from it, ie: other books, movies whatever.
Now I’m not saying I would win, it’s literally a 10,000 to 1 odds chance that I could, but still, I wouldn’t want to lose the rights to my words and characters.
What else does a writer have?!
Don’t know if I should or not. I have at least another week or so to sign up and submit.
Unsure choices lie ahead.
There are those who say they would give the sun and the moon for their love but I will not offer this to you.
Some work all of their days and nights to secure a future but I will do this for you.
Even a few sacrifice their blood and expose their soul to keep others safe but I will not do this for you.
I will not etch our names into a tree. I will not cut a portrait of your face into my skin. I will not immortalize you with any more of my words beyond today.
My blood has been the ink and the tree bark which lives once more through these unread stories, has been my own and only true skin. I bare every atom of my soul into every letter that is written.
Yet I will not do this for you.
This, is finally for me.
Hey a writer with a fear of inadequacy and rejection, how fucking original.
I need blacker curtains to keep the mornings out.