#OriginalWriting

[a-hymnforher]

I've been writing too much lately, not a good sign.

[inadvertently-writing]

un/non fulfillment...in other words, no words...

no background, no special font...just expelling my proverbial "Writer's Block".

it happens to all; i just happen to be the 1 and all

so far my submission is boring...anyone still reading this?

i shan't get flustered

hopefully this 2 shall pass

hopefully...

wishfully...

(fearfully, should it linger on)

by@inadvertently-writing ©

[mypoeticsoul-ny]

To Love A Broken Girl

There are days when she is sunshine Sweetest, darkest, rarest wine She will love you till it hurts her Worship you upon the floor

She will cherish and protect you For her love is pure and true She will build upon steep mountain, Magic castle in the rain

She will make a home of comfort Take you to each foreign port She will whether any hardship As her tears begin to drip

But on days when she is broken Not a word then will be spoken Living hurts her soul and heart Past sweeps in, rips all apart

She pretends that all is fine Holds her head up, has a spine Yet behind the door she crumbles On betrayls her heart stumbles

Hard to breathe, a lump she swallows In her misery she wallows Till again her strength returns One more battle, her soul learns ©6.22.2023 - MyPoeticSoulNy(-mps)

[worthymartyrconstruct]

The woman in the mirror isn’t me anymore.

I live alone. I’ve always kept my bathroom light on at night—habit from childhood, nothing more. But last week, something changed.

I got up at 3:12 AM (I remember because my phone lit up), walked past the bathroom, and saw myself in the mirror... already standing there. I hadn’t even stepped in yet.

She smiled. I didn’t.

I froze. It mimicked every move I made—but a second too slow. Like it was watching and deciding how to be me.

I’ve tried covering the mirror. It doesn’t help. Every night since, I’ve woken up at the same time.

She’s always there. Closer.

Last night, she didn’t copy me. She waved.

I didn’t.

[trueknights]

A Wizards Calling, by True Lady Knights ID:

There's a roughness in my hand, I look into dark murky waters.

I do not think the magic has left me, how easily a pencil because a sword in calloused finger unused to fighting.

How keen my eyes are as they gauge the water, it's murky depths unknown to humans of this age, waiting eagerly for a pale hand to gift me Excalibur.

I listen for Merlin's words on the wisps of wind, through the tendrils of ancient tongues, gold pulsating through my veins and dancing within.

I do not think the magic has left me, dormant and siphoned though it may be.

I do not believe it has not abandoned us, it lingers amongst, it's essence clings like dust to ancient books.

What force wills your pen to write, your heart to beat and pump? What passion ignites your will, what passion drives quill.

Seize it for it is yours, seize it because it is ours. We plain clothed wizards have forgotten our spells. Yet still, we are here, living amongst the world.

[artificelux]

Can’t think of a much better way to celebrate one year of this project, than by getting to see a review for COLOR OF A MIRROR in print for the first time! And in the indie section of Publishers Weekly no less!

Written, designed, published, and sold by me.

Thanks to BookLife for the review, and thank you always to the Kickstarter backers who helped make this possible (and to everyone who’s picked up the book since then).

colorofamirror.net

[sapphirefate]

When taylor Swift said, "In the world of boys, he's a gentleman." I remembered him.

He has the most beautiful eyes and the prettiest smile I'd ever seen

His princely charm and royal gaze never failed to keep me amazed

His sweet talk , his royal walk, everything seems beyond perfection perhaps cannot be phrased.

He possessed the calmness of a sea and anger of a storm yet he is the epitome of kindness,

No man could ever make me feel that way that he does!

The mole on his cheek, has me blushing!

I stop myself, I warn myself, but my heart still beats faster every time I'm near him.

[jungwnies]

girl the ai….

this is the second time i’ve received this message in my inbox, so i feel it’s necessary to address it because frankly, this accusation is absurd. i’m certain i’m not the only writer being accused of using chatgpt or some form of ai to craft my stories, and while i can’t speak for others, i’ll clarify my own position.

when i began writing stories on wattpad back in 2017, i was far from skilled. i was also quite young, with a vocabulary that reflected my middle school self. later, i started writing on tumblr in 2021 and officially on this account in 2022. at that time, i was still in high school, and my writing was undoubtedly rough around the edges, which is evident in my earlier works. however, as i progressed into university, the growth in my skills became increasingly apparent.

through my coursework and education, my writing style has naturally evolved becoming more polished, articulate, and coherent. yes, my stories now have proper grammar and flow better, but that’s a testament to growth, not automation. while some might find similarities in storytelling structures, that isn’t because of ai; it’s simply how creative minds often process and develop ideas.

furthermore, i am a psychology major, a significant part of my academic work involves learning how to articulate and convey ideas effectively. when it comes to crafting one concept for a broad audience, there’s only so much I can adjust in terms of wording and setting before certain elements start to feel repetitive. storytelling, much like academic writing, often requires structure and clarity, and if that results in some overlap in phrasing or themes, it’s a reflection of the process, not a lack of originality.

to reduce years of effort, practice, and learning into a baseless claim of me using ai is both dismissive and insulting. i hope this clears things up for those who seem quick to jump to conclusions.

[missyzonyx]

✨📚 Calling all writers and readers! 📚✨

If you're passionate about stories — writing them, reading them, living them — reblog this to connect with others who feel the same. 🖋️💫

💌 Let’s build a network where: — Writers support writers — Readers hype up their favorite works — New projects get discovered — Inspiration flows freely 🌊

No matter your genre, fandom, or format — your words matter. Your stories matter.

Reblog this to say: 🌟 “I’m part of the writing & reading community on Tumblr.” Let’s find each other. Let’s grow. Let’s thrive. 💖

[sino--69]

Fuck this

U guys get 0 context. Im just posting raw writing now.

The setting is interstellar. The mc is called "Kent".

Its bad. It has typos, barely iterated. But i havent posted in days. I have to do something

"What the—" says kent

Mumbling under his breath, jaw dropped, hunched,

"This is a mall? This?"

Yes kent, thats a mall,

Its as big as a colony,

Yet every inch of the floor has people standing on it

"What... Its as huge as a street"

HONKKKKKK

Came a sound behind kent,

Something was moving fast,

Kent turned back

"YOOO sorry"

A... "vehicle" brushed across him.

"Thats.. what is that?" Thought kent

As he stood in shock,

A vehicle thats really just a big tire with a seat inside

In a mall as big as a colony,

Bling wherever you can see,

As good staring into the sun.

Or rather smaller, but hundreds of them.

People scattered like ants,

The chatter? Unprecedented.

Wearing... "SUNGLASSES???" Shouted kent, a bit too loud,

Looking to his side,

No one heard, its just too loud for that.

Kent snaps his fingers,

As everything becomes more simplified

"God, this is gonna be draining"

(He has a ability which is his main ability. Its simplification. Thats it, Thats all it does, It makes things simple for him)

Soon, a puppet pops up,

Spring for legs and neck, Way too big head,

"Hello sir"

"He—" kent gets cut off

The puppet closes up, its neck streched,

"Hmmm you're not atuned"

He tilts his head, "Yet you're somehow okay... strange"

"Uh i" says kent

BOI—Oi—OING—the neck recoils back,

"Ill take you to a quieter place, where we'll atune you in! With the latest shatter-disks!

Please come, its straight ahead"

Kent takes a peek,

"...its a kilometre long—no, maybe more"

The puppet smiles

"Urban planning doesn't exist at the cosmic scale, what you're witnessing is already a miracle"

"Though u dont have to walk all the way, just 300 meters till the Uni-stand, where u can get your Uni-hicle, the one u almost got hit by"

"Hicle—short for vehicle? Also how do you—"

The puppet grips his hand

"Ow"

And springs forward, dragging kent along a rollercoaster ride,

Because thats what it was,

Shoulders hitting, feet stomped,

All could be avoided if u weren't sprinting,

But the puppet moved too fast, gripped too hard.

As kent's gait made a drunkard look sober

Kent wasnt exactly fond of this experience...

Jaw dropping how the biggest brands are reduced to a stall,

To how big this global market even is,

"So much Cash... Why dont people just retire to smaller planets" kent thought to himself,

As he got shoulder-slammed, feet stomped,

While drowning in neon.

Kent finally makes it to the "uni-stand",

The neon board tries too hard to be,

Like a ball boy in PE.

Its just a cycle stand, for uni-hicle—

"Why the name Uni-hicle?" Kent asked

"Dont ask, you dont wanna know"

And suddenly, the world tilts,

Or really, its kent getting carried,

Thrown in the Uni-hicle,

"WHA—wha—wait!"

The puppet takes kent's hand,

Too gently,

Kent having the suspicion of a parent seeing tissues and hand lotion side by side

PSSSST

"OW OW OW UR BURNING IT"

Said kent as the puppet grins,

The puppet leaves the hand, kent pulls it back immediately, squirming almost

"OW, you bitch!" as kent looks down on his hand...

There's a mark, with print, a bit too much.

"V I PEE" he sees under simplification

"Next time get a fucking ID" says the puppet

"A knight of laughter in the [placeholder] mall? What a sight to see!"

As he shuts the "door" which...

Makes up 1/3rd of the "Uni-hicle"s body.

"Sleek design" they call it,

"#futuristic"

Kent barely feels fine, but atleast the Uni-hicle wont drive itse—

VROOOOOOM

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" kent says,

(Profound)

As the autodrive does dodge civilians, while registering them as boxes, poles, banners...

Anything but people on the screen.

Kent hits the break!

it felt too smooth.

No it wasnt hydraulics.

The break isnt connected (temporarily. Hopefully.)

"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK"

As kent tries to move the steering wheel,

Too smooth,

Autodrive.

But atleast there's OTT and adverts on the screen beside the ever increasing speedometer...

...

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" says kent

(Probably excited at the OTTs)

It goes over stairs,

As kent gets the POV of a shaker ball

His half-ass suspends in the air,

His leg somehow over the wheel,

His hands? Under his other-half-ass,

How? Dont ask.

But kent was getting use to it,

He was somehow gaining stance.

Surely—

Surely it wont just st—

SCREEEEEEEEEECH

Kent hits the—

PFOOOOOOOF

Air bag fills up the Uni-hicle,

Too hard,

The doors might just break.

"Mmmsbsksmmshsjmmm" mumbles kent

(Profound)

As he tries his best to stab the airbag.

He does burst it, after minute of shanking.

POP—except 10 decibels higher.

He gets out of the Uni-hicle,

Almost trips over, at every step.

His gait... You call that "gait"?

Breathing fast,

Still mumbling profound knowledge

("Fuck.. fuck.. fuck this. Fuck")

In front of him,

A grand hotel, which, is "grand" in size too

Like, 4 buildings compressed into 1

gold-yellow coloured, stylish, glamourous,

Less bling, kent sighed of relief

And a signage saying... "Kjg... No its.. wrjg... No.."

"What.. whats this language"

Kent snaps, Simplified.

"HQ? What?"

A man (finally not a puppet) came outside

"Welcome sir, you are our—"

BBBRRRRRSTTTT

Kent unloaded his gun on the Uni-hicle.

THUMP, It fell on its side,

Setting up in flames.

"What? Oh... Uh malfunction it ha—"

The man came forwards

Kent snapped his fingers

No intent to kill, showed 'simplification'

Or was he really an assasin,

"Assasin in a mall?"

"This isnt even a mall, this is something el—"

He holds kent's hand,

Inspects the mark,

As kent is frozen in place,

Back arched, on toes, gun in his hand but pointing downwards for some reason?

"Hmm. Please come with me"

...

"....Sir?"

"HUH what? What?" Kent says,

"Yeah u sure uh.. could u explain what the fuck this is"

"Sure. I will." He says "Just, step inside first"

Kent steps inside..

Less people, almost none.

Dimly lit. Huge hallways,

"half a street wide..." kent mumbles.

The man walks up behind the counter,

"Wohoo" he says

"I usually never stand here, haha."

"Anyways". He says, as kent proceeds to sit in the chair awkwardly. Which may be a bit too short.

"I apologise for the treatment u faced. The puppet u met is barthlos, a semi-hive mind—'army' if you will—of barthlos' that take care of the whole mall"

"You, Mr Kent"

He says, shuffling papers, adjusting the lamp,

Putting on glasses, branded, elite.

"Entered illegally—suits your reputation of ignoring laws u regard useless"

"Barthlos saw that you dont have the protective gear everyone does."

"You mean the sunglass—" kent almost asks

"—No! That's fashion!"

....

"Ehm, There's eye implants for regulars and special lenses for others.

You had none.

You know who else has none Mr Kent?"

"Uh bad guys?" Kent asks

"Yes bad g—ehm—tresspassers, theives" as he judges kent, enough to fry an egg.

"But they usually have custom implants.

You however. Had none....

Thats why you weren't tased right there.

But the fact that you even smuggled a gun? Jeez. Thats why barthlos was in a hurry"

Meanwhile kent squirming in his chair. It was definitely too short...

He wants to speak, He has nothing to speak.

"What do i ask... The weather?—no fuck no what is wrong with me?" Kent thinks to himself.

"Now we do have intel of your arrival Mr Kent"

"I... I think its master—wait is it mister for unmarried men too?"

The man raises an eyebrow. Oof.. a deadly look.

He looks back and forth, to kent and his papers,

"Welp since you're a child at heart as per Mr vinh's comment... Master kent it'll be"

"Haha.. ha... So... Uh can i meet this guy?" Kent asks, being forced to look up, neck flexed.

As he thinks to himself "God my neck hurts, my ass hurts, i need to collapse so bad..."

"Wha—"this guy"—???" the man chokes on air

"Ehm. Yes. Mr vinh. You mean Mr Vinh.

He's... Currently away doing stunts, you can calmly wait in your room"

"Oh, nice, is there a bathtub?" Kent asks

"Yes" The man says.

"No... Plot twist?" Kent squirms

"What?" The man repulsed "what—i didnt quite get your Miste—ehm..."

...a pause. A second too long

"Master keEA—AH!" said the man as a dove flew into his face,

And the lift's door closed

With a note on the chair, a masked shaped stamp on it

"Fuck your mall :3"

[zeitforge]

A Tiny Seed and a Huge Dream.

Buried deep in the warm, crumbly earth—and, sprouting between sleeping roots and tiny rocks—was Goldy. Goldy wasn't anything special—just a little seed. However, in its little heart was a huge ambition: to one day reach its limbs to the high blue sky, to grow into a tall tree that would be a sign of great life. The first few days were an unending silent, hopeless ask. Locked in the darkness, Goldy wanted water, the most important drop of life. "Is there ever going to be water?," it thought, as a small shiver of fear traversed the organism. The brown soil surrounding it felt unrelentingly dry. But then, just as hopelessness started to surface, Goldy could hear, soft at first, gentle drumming from above. RAIN! life-giving rain. Goldy drank in deeply, fanning the water on its body, and suddenly, a tiny pale green tip cracked and pushed out of the brown shell. The little sprouting organism pushed skyward with ecstatic force. "I am a sprout!" As Goldy grew taller, now a little colorful plant, a new threat emerged: the sun, with its summer intensity and heat. It seemed to sear Goldy's delicate leaves. "I'm going to get burned! I'm going to get fried!" Goldy lamented, its tender stem shaking. A rustling sound nearby, drew its attention to a nearby old, wise oak. "Do not worry, little one", whispered the old tree, rustling its leaves. "All the rays that burn you and all the things you endure, only push your roots further down, and make you tougher and stronger." Goldy felt determined, pushed every bit of energy down into its roots, with a burning desire to deepen them, wanting to get more of the earth inside as he reached up towards the light. Then came the night of the Great Storm. The wind roared like a monster, tearing through the woods, attempting to snap Goldy’s slender trunk and uproot it entirely. Goldy was rocking back and forth, genuinely terrified. But the old oak's words echoed in Goldy’s mind: Goldy remembered the strength it had built. It clung to the earth, its deeper roots clinging to the ground with an unwavering determination, relying on the hidden anchors it put so much effort into making. The storm passed by morning. Goldy was wet and exhausted but still standing, revitalized, and Goldy looked taller and stronger, all the leaves were shining with vigor. Years went by, and then decades. Goldy, the little seed with the big dream, grew into a spectacular beautiful tree. Its wide canopy provided cool shade for tired travelers, its branch held the chirping families of birds, and its mighty trunk became a direction for all forest creatures. As it looked at all the life beneath its protective shade, it smiled, not out loud yet whispering a happy recognition to the sun and winds capturing the trees leave dance. It thought: I remember all the thirst and the heat and the frightening storm, every challenge was just one more layer of soil for me to grow my roots through, TIME... and WORK, no matter how little the dream, can get you through, and that makes you proud when all is said and done.

[a-hymnforher]

[inadvertently-writing]

By@inadvertently-writing ©

[mypoeticsoul-ny]

[soratatakano]

I hope one day the pictures of your soul I carved into my heart will visit you in sleep and whisper as if they were yours, because you never believed me when I said: You are enough. Still bleeding, still alive... but for how long?

[onlyl3thabo]

2025-07-16