eikawrites

[eikawrites]

Hello My dearest friends,🌟

My name is Mahmoud Jihad, from Gaza. My home, my university, everything has been destroyed. I now live in a flimsy tent with my family after losing everything. I was studying Information Technology while caring for my family, and now we have nothing. 😔

We are living amidst indescribable destruction and desperately need your help to survive. 😭 Even a small donation can make a huge difference. Every contribution is a spark of hope in the darkness of this war. ✨

My campaign is verified by: @beesandwatermelons ✅ #190 and @gazavetters ✅ #63.

My GoFundMe link: https://gofund.me/463cbf01

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Let's rebuild our lives together. 🙏❤️

[eikawrites]

"Love is just a chemical reaction in your brain"

And a painting is just chemicals on a canvas.

Music is vibrations through the air.

Your condescending snark is also a chemical reaction in your brain (as are all human thoughts and feelings).

Something being made of matter doesn't make it any less profound.

[eikawrites]

My efforts may as well never amount to anything. The safest place is the corner of my room. And the most delightful of sanctuaries is my sleep.

[eikawrites]

Once you get this, you have to say five things you like about yourself. Then you have to send this to ten of your favourite followers (non-optional, positivity is cool) 🌈🌈

Oh gosh. I was excited when I got this q/a! I don't think i have that many followers, but I'll be sure to send them this! Okay, let's see:

I'm a pretty loyal person. Will actually die for my pals/family or wreak havoc when it comes to them idk

I'm very good at writing stories with strong emotional emphasis aka angst-then-eventual-healing (because i want my readers to feel loved from my writings ig)

I'm the glue--or so I'd like to think--that keeps the group from falling apart. (package includes encouragement, occasional hype, acceptance for what you are, etc)

I'm aware of my shortcomings and try not to give up on myself everyday. It's not easy, but I believe future-me will be in much peace when she remembers past-me's efforts (does that make sense?? idk if it does)

I think im pretty ok. And maybe that's okay.

[eikawrites]

a special offer for JC

i literally came online just to post this ad i saw from facebook because Jeaney, Jeaney dude, you have to dub this. i have never felt this compelled to request something from a content creator ever. this must be my destiny: and thus. i now present:

yes.

[eikawrites]

A Lovely Ramadan Kareem to all.

May this month be filled with eternal blessings and healing for all of us. Let's keep those who are oppressed in our duas, and pray that they get victory over the oppressors. I hope we all learn tolerance and love and learn to be kind to others as well as ourselves~

[eikawrites]

So thought-provoking. <3

|·Once there was a girl·|

[Poem by deadjournalist]

Once there was a girl,

and oh, how nice she was.

Within the family and all through town,

she was known to be polite and sound.

as well as her unmatched grace.

Her parents speak of her "well earned" grades,

To all she was the one,

the girl who "gets things done".

And good she was, the well reputed girl.

she never stepped out of line, or caused any distress.

Because all this while, she was wearing a dark chocolate dress...

Once there was a girl,

and oh, how miserable she was.

The fear and worry filled her heart,

and she never thought she was any smart.

The piercing gaze and pointed words,

never failed to make her eyes blurred.

And so she looked out for cues and listened tentatively.

All for fear of appearing clumsy.

But all have a limit, even the polite girl.

Who was starting to melt into an endless swirl.

Things around her began to lose meaning,

As she felt all hope fleeting.

"Why am I doing this?" she finally asks herself,

but life is a mystery all by itself.

And so she continues on, hopeless and distressed.

until the day the universe may let her rest.

[eikawrites]

Erathne: ugh, I'm having a bad day. Emil: aw. Don't be sad, big guy. Cuz sad spelled backwards is 'das' Emil: and das not cool Erathne: Emil: Erathne (pointing to the door): Get out.

[eikawrites]

Want some easy tip to make your characters 100% more believable??

I learned this some time ago, and wanted to share it because it has really helped me A LOT.

Think of your characters and imagine how they would be in their best moment and in their worst. But not like, happiest and darkest moment. Think of it as their healthiest and most toxic moments. Everyone is healthy sometimes and toxic sometimes. USE THAT. Write a about it, describe them and their actions in both situations.

Maybe you have a character that can be crazy possessive when toxic, but really supportive when healthy. Who knows?

Once you write that, chances are you already know how their gonna behave in almost any situation that pushes them to be healthier/ more toxic. Plus, you can also use it for your characters' positive/ negative arc or to develop relationships with other characters.

Happy writing!! 😙😙

Other tips for writers: next

[eikawrites]

"So the most important lesson is: the only reason a superhero doesn't rescue a civilian-in-distress is when...?" Emil, the seventeen-year old superhero trainee, raised a hand splendidly, "When the said citizen is a supervillain?" His mentor looked at him with a myriad of emotions, disgust being the most dominant one. "No. When the civilian's dead. You never compromise the citizen's safety, at all costs." "Oh." "Yes. Though the hero should only ditch the dead body of the citizen when there's a living citizen's life at stake." Emil shot his mentor finger-guns. "Aha. Noted." The teen didn't have the heart to tell him that Emil was speaking from experience; recently IceGuy, the beloved top-notch superhero, had beaten up Erathne pretty badly... which was honestly a great feat in itself (Emil was disguised as a normal citizen at that time, and was just strolling by). Erathne, who was considered the most invincible supervillain across the nation, was still losing to IceGuy when Emil accidentally made contact with his eyes. Suffice to say, it was bad bad. The guy was practically begging for Emil to do something to save him. And Emil would be lying if he said he didn't feel an ounce of pity for the evil dude. Conveniently, there was a large block of concrete (the size of his palm) on the ground. So, like the amazing prodigy he was, Emil picked it up and aimed it at IceGuy's shoulder (the guy was built like a titan so he wouldn't get hurt anyway). And after a brief millisecond's of pause, he threw it. Then both the hero and the villain, still engrossed in the fight (and unaware of the flying concrete), inevitably switched their positions as each tried to gain the upper hand. Before Emil could warn him, the block hit Erathne straight at the back of his unsuspecting head. And the next thing Emil could remember? IceGuy taking out the handcuffs and murmuring in his headset, and the unlucky Erathne: groaning in pain, looking up, and then glaring right at Emil's totally-innocent figure across the street. Emil scrammed, right then and there. A small, but heavy lesson learned since that day. Never try to help a supervillain. The attempt could result in a supervillain out to get you, whether you were a citizen, a hero, or a fellow supervillain like him. ...To conclude, Emil's funeral seemed to be right around the corner. Sad for the hero community, though. Very sad.

[eikawrites]

how to go from daydream to draft:

begin by daydreaming as you normally do, or just after you've finished doing so. write down every thought you have. one after another. do not reread. do not stop for spelling mistakes. just dump out every thought. this is called stream of consciousness writing. you can do this for every scene you need a first draft for.

struggling to draft the scene? try to daydream about it. start thinking about how it would look, feel, what the characters would say, act it out in your head and then write out the stream of your thoughts as they arrive.

by now you have a few scene dumps. you may be tempted to go back and edit. do not do this expect for obvious spelling mistakes. do not read closely and start thinking "i need to rework this sentence." that is for later. now you're in the zone. draft more scenes. or work out what the next scene needs to be, scaffold it with a few comments. this will be the inspiration for your next deliberate thought stream that you will write out. repeat this process until you have the whole draft.

now that you have a draft or part of a draft you get to do this very fun thing called revise until you're happy. sweep through your draft with specific goals each time. one sweep to fix spelling/grammar. another for character voice. another for plot. repeat until you're happy with it.

leave it alone. just leave it for a bit. at least a few hours or days or even weeks. forget it exists. this will allow you come back with fresh eyes. then you can do your revisions with an eagle eye. now you may realize you need to add/remove scenes. you know how to get the first version down. close your eyes and daydream at your desk if that's what takes!

remember that fiction writing is persuasive writing. you are trying to persuade the reader to care about what happens next, the character's, the world, the feelings. as you're revising, consider whether you are persuaded. is the feeling/thoughts you wanted to provoke being felt by you when you read it? when working with beta readers, be sure to communicate what you're trying to convey so they can tell you if you've been successful or not.

this got a bit beyond getting the first draft done. hope you found it helpful.

bonus tip: check the spellings of names and places and other nouns that are not typically used, like the name of a magic tool!

[eikawrites]

A poem of two comrades. And the reward they receive at the end of their journey.

Flesh tearing from the sides,

slowing down the beating of my heart.

Only one soul left to survive,

My friend, I wish you a lonesome depart.

Enjoy the blessings of this place

(if there are any,

because to me there's naught but

a lengthy and sorrowful race

leading to thorns and spikes to embrace.)

Unfortunately for both of us,

my friend walks over my limp self.

His gaze never falling to where I was,

but to only where I am now.

The large, gaping windows call forth,

his journey almost heralding an end.

"Live for me," I had told him.

"Breathe for me," I had yelled.

But as I looked up, his eyes told me

the very words I had dreaded:

"It was not the treasure nor the journey,

certainly not the reward we received.

But, my companion, it was you.

It was you who made me perceive,

that life was indeed a colorful bloom,

but, my sweet--

that is only if I were with you."

A grand piano pierces the long quiet,

an occasional companion to his footsteps.

His end is almost near, despite my riot.

The promise that he could have kept,

remains lost in the cold wind

that finally sweeps his life away-

to be reunited with me.

[eikawrites]

the flower that he killed that day

A young boy once loved flowers so much, so much, so much.

The garden bestowed upon him showers of green, blue, pink, and hazel.

A day came where everything was the same. Same. Same. Same.

Everything except for his unending rage. Rage. Rage. Rage.

A flower in his fist he grasped. Pull it. Pull it. Pull it.

Petal upon petal, he tore it apart. Apart. Apart. Apart.

The garden became forlorn and quiet.

The house was empty and silent.

The wind stood still and watched.

The boy looked at his cowardice and cried. Cry. Cry. Cry.

[eikawrites]

diary post- the time i was told that my family was unusual

Once I was told, as you guessed it from the title, that my family was "unusual". It wasn't meant to be a compliment.

As the unpaid therapist I had become; I was fuming internally. So here's my love letter to those that think it's okay to label others as "unusual" but never hold themselves accountable for their own behavior.

Unusual? What about him who, when presented with the chance to set things right, ignored everything and tried to pretend all was well? Does he truly think that by pretending all wounds would heal magically? What about his wife? Does he ever express his love and appreciation for her? She may have done something unfavorable, but where was he? Is he truly present? Does he not fear God? -

Unusual? What about her who never learned to confront her insecurities? Who, despite her kith and kin nearby, refused to engage with them just because of a rumor she heard? A rumor. A measly rumor. Why has her love turned bitter? Does she think that since she's the youngest, her pain needs to be paid attention to 24/7? What about her kids? Aren't you going a bit too extreme by allowing them to listen to all the rumors and exaggerations done without confronting the actual person involved? Does she not fear God? -

Unusual? What about her? Who shouts and shouts, leaving no space untouched? Her inability to be gentle with her words pushing away the people she loves most? Does she think that her words won't have any consequences? Does she think that the children won't remember? Does she not fear God? -

Unusual? What about him who refuses to listen to his wife, just because she's acquainted with the people he loathes? Does he think that shouting and unrelenting to her feelings will aid him in the future? What about his children? Does he not think that the kids will grow up hating their own father? Is being extreme the only way to get things done, or are they a fail-safe way to destroy everything your wife stood up for? Is acceptance and admittance that difficult, when your own kids have gone through that stage? Is breaking things the only way to mend your bonds? Does he not fear God? -

Unusual. You say. But what about you who demands respect but never tries to take responsibility for it? You, who assumes things on your own, and does things that contradicts your own teachings? Does your pain exceed all others? Or does it render other people's pain meaningless? You say you love everyone, but then why do you scatter so many eggshells around you, damning anyone who dares step on them? Do you not fear God? Forgive me, but did it ever hurt to show an ounce's worth of love? Does loving makes you inferior? If it does, then I'm glad to say that literally no one cares. No one cares what you think. It's a result of you doing the same to others, mind you. What you're basically teaching the kids is that you get free liberty to shout, berate, curse, and abuse those below you, once you get older. Unusual? You think I am unusual? We all are unusual. Humans are never predictable. If they were then they wouldn't have stood up for what's right. They wouldn't have opened their arms wide, ready to accept another's warmth and love. Letting out your pain in the worst possible ways may seem cathartic, but the embrace that comes from asking for forgiveness and being heard is the best cure. But what's worse is that you are too afraid to seek consolation, validation, and forgiveness. So, heck yeah I'm unusual. But at least I'm not delusional, thank you very much.

[eikawrites]

Of Crowns and Crows

"You are nothing more and nothing less, You've become the very thing you detest."

This wasn't a person talking to me. Rather, the words were scratched on every surface, everywhere: On the golden, ornate dresser now littered with withered roses and broken pieces of glass bottles. Ever since the crown was placed upon my head, and I had received a plump rose from the little smiling boy in the crowd-- I felt my love for flowers and perfumes stiffen.

The mirror though, was broken; there was nothing left to see.

•••

Other than the dresser, the words had also made themselves home on my heavily-curtained windows. The maroon velvet seemed reminiscent of the day the minister had draped the thick robe around my bony shoulders: he had a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

Too hopeful, as I recall. I was not ready yet. Then again, I am not ready even now. The view out my window, obscured by the same loathsome colors was enough proof of my that.

•••

Then the same words were on the walls too. The walls which had become my captors the day the people bowed before me for the first time. I was naïve. The intricate designs on the wall never meant me any harm at all; they were simply doing their job, keeping me inside. They should've tried harder.

But then again, I wouldn't have been able to seek refuge within them in the present if that were so. Now, they are my sole protectors, and I would die gladly gazing at them throughout the remainder of my life.

•••

Forgiveness be damned; it wasn't enough, and it never will be. But sometimes I can't help but wonder; whether the warm sunlight would finally weave through the curtains if someone were to forgive me.

Then again, it wasn't like anyone was left to bestow that honor upon me. Not anymore.

[eikawrites]

awwwww look at them!!!

Holy trinity

[eikawrites]

I feel like this perfectly represents what Grian fans expectations are vs what always actually happens.