nerdygirl738

[nerdygirl738]

8/8/2020 COLORFUL GRIT:

Jenny was in the bathtub taking deep breaths and trying to calm her aching heart. The past events keep playing in her head over and over again like a broken record. Some worsen, and some better scenarios sneaking in with an “if only” that joins in every now and then. Small tears slip down from her face as she tries to keep herself from sobbing the pain and memories of the night away.

-

With a jump to her step, and a giddy and nervous heartbeat in her chest she hands in her art piece. It’s one of the few she happens to be proud of. A watercolor sunset with some inverted hues. That center on the beautifully plain sun. She’s confidant in placing the “Colorful Future award” in the Future of Art awards. She’s loved art since she was young and has been encouraged by so many to keep it up. At least in the past she was. Now most want her to find a “real job” as if art isn’t a real job. She does work as a manager at a big chain bookstore, but she still does what she can to support her passions despite the turn of support and basic needs.

Jenny enters and sits in one of the many chairs, looking at the other pieces of artwork and can’t help but be amazed. Some are portraits while others are landscapes, some realistic almost photographic, some so abstract they look like a dreamland. Some shake her confidence, but she quickly shuts it down. This is not the place and time for that, and besides, the inspiration of the pieces makes them good competition, that’s the point of the others being here, competing for the top. She takes some deep breaths and reminds herself that others have the same dream, that this isn’t just for her, that others have a right to win if they do and to be happy for them as much as she would be happy for herself.

Suddenly the mic goes on, everyone quiets down and looks to the stage to see the art collection’s owner: Gale Provinsky. Renowned for an acquired and particular taste in art that has made him one of the best and strict art critics of the time. Her heart in her throat and sweat starting to form in her clenched, white knuckled fists. She focuses on the man before her as he starts to speak.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I’m Gale Provinsky and I welcome you to the 2020 Future of Arts Awards!” The cheering if the crowds is near deafening but after processing a bit she smiles and cheers as well. “We have a lot of art pieces for us to see today, and many awards to hand out to the many who submitted. I thank those who have added to the Future of Arts collection. Now how about not letting the suspense build too much and start handing these out yeah!” More cheering and laughing. Jenny is doing her best to keep the nauseating excitement from making her vomit.

 As the awards go by, she smiles for those who look so thrilled to have gotten them. She really tries to remember what’s being said and who wins what, but her nerves are making her feel almost numb. It’s like an out-of-body, third person experience. Most of the awards have been handed out by now and she’s even more nervous since her potential award hasn’t been given out yet and the wait is making it very difficult to keep the confidence and joy alive.

 “Now we have the Colorful Future Award to give out.” She holds her breath and looks up to him with hope, fear, an assortment of emotions she can’t decipher right now and probably never will. “A lot of good pieces were picked, and it was honestly very difficult to choose. But we did finally figure this one out and are happy to give the Colorful Future Award to…” The crowd is quiet as they wait to hear. Have they been doing that for every award? Probably, but it seems way more obvious now. He opens the card in his hands and take a deep breath before saying. “‘The Electrified City’ by Lina Gomez, congratulations!”

The people are cheering, but Jenny doesn’t hear it. She can only feel the anxiety taking over her chest, seeping through her body, making it almost hard to breath. She numbly claps but she can’t feel her hands, she barely manages the fake smile that falters every now and then. Her mind raging war with pride for her competitor nearly losing against her anger that her award was taken, even when it wasn’t her to start with. The thought “I didn’t win” agitating both more

Lina goes up her smile and joy nearly encompassing the whole room as she grabs her plaque and stands next to her piece. The city street, highlighted by neon lights that line the buildings, the people walking have a sheen from the light and the black skies make it feel like the whole world is right there. It really is a beautiful piece, so refined. Jenny’s was a bit more abstract than hers. The awards go on, but all Jenny can do is keep herself in check from crying or screaming or something.

-

Getting out of the tub, she moves to the mirror and looks at her red eyes. Her throat feels so tight it’s painful. Her chest heavy, her legs shake, her mind swirling with all these horrible thoughts she is wishing, willing, begging to leave her be.  It’s funny how she’s sees so much more monochrome right now, feels like a lot more monochrome though that shouldn’t be a mood but is.

She gets dressed and sits in her bedroom/art room. Looking at all her pieces, all her supplies, contemplating her choices and whether art was for her or not. She takes deep breaths and goes to the one source that has proven to always pick her back up and put her on her feet.

She reaches in for the old tattered folder. Gently pulling out her oldest saved drawing. She was five at the time. It was nothing unusual for a five-year-old. A picture of her family, the house right next to them. She smiles and lays her hand over her family. Remembering the time, she made it and how proud her parents were, how proud she was, how she wanted to keep trying and keep making and keep getting better like she has been. She’s improved so much and has gone so far, giving up isn’t an option now, and it never will be for as long as she can paint and draw and sketch.

The heaviness in her heart lightens up just a bit, as her minds dangerous thoughts turn into critical thoughts and ideas she probably never would’ve thought of without the influence and opportunity to see all the pieces she had at the awards show. She can kind of breath and writes her ideas in her notebook. Then lays in bed, forcing herself to repeat the mantra, I can and will make great progress today.

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I know it’s been a while, I’m dedicating this to the book “Grit” by Angela Duckworth. I want to be gritty about my writing and I hope others feel a bit more motivated after reading this too. Otherwise I’ll see you next Saturday!

[nerdygirl738]

SOULS FOR SALE!: JULY 22, 2020

WARNING: Mature themes of blood, death and mature language, read at your own risk!

“You know, sometimes I think the gods just hate us.” Ruby’s voice carries in the dark room. It would be good if they could see but being blindfolded in a dark room doesn’t help much. Orissa sighs.

“Yeah yeah I get that, but there’s not much we can do right now and wait so buckle up.” A groan of frustration as ruby loosens and unloosens the ropes for the 50th time.

“It’s just…they could do better really. Rope of all things. How many have attacked us and how many people know of our strength? You’d think the dumb bastards would do better than to leave us like this.” Before Orissa could respond they hear the door open and immediately go to game faces.

The footsteps are combat boots, heavy and echoing in the otherwise empty room, 5 of them. I can hear a dark chuckle from two of them. Ruby sneers and proceeds to shake the bonds again. Orissa closes in, trying to appear small and defenseless.

The blindfolds are taken off and move the chairs to face each other. The jarring movement and all of a sudden bright light being turned on hurt Ruby and Orissa’s eyes. They blink away the dizziness and bleariness to see a white walled room. Or is was once. The walls are so nasty they’re almost black and no window doesn’t help.

If you fuckers don’t let me and my sister go, I swear to everything that’s holy I will make you suffer!” Ruby snarls and thrashes. One of the men in the rom hit her upside the head. Making Orissa squeak in fear and frantically looks around trying to avoid the men’s leering eyes and find a way out.

“If you want you are your sister’s freedom than you’re going to listen to us you pompous bitches!” Ruby, now with a wound to the temple slowly dripping blood, breaths in ragged breaths and glares at the bastard. “I’m sure we all know what the deal is here. We want immortality. I know you have the secrets to it and If you don’t will just keep torturing you till, we do. Lord knows you won’t die.” While that lovely mantra was going on, Orissa had untied her bindings. She looked to ruby to find she has done the same. The nod to each other and the 5 guys smile wickedly, thinking they’ve one.

Ruby is the first to move. She smashes the light and moves to the side of the room. Orissa moves to the side as well. The guys start to panic and reach for the door. It doesn’t matter, it won’t help them now. Orissa moves in, snapping the neck of the guy closest to her side and Ruby mirrors the movements. The panic feels even more strong in the room and Ruby eats it up, both literally and metaphorically. The move to the next two and do the same procedures until there’s only one left. Orissa reaches her hand and rewinds the light back to fixed.

The guy turns around to see his comrades on the ground and numbers above the girl’s heads. In a black and white color, respectively. The smile at him but the grins are not human anymore, they’re something otherworldly. “I wasn’t joking when I said you’d suffer.” Ruby smirks, not like hell couldn’t use a few more souls. The last guy barely grazes the doorknob before they both move in, each stabbing him through the chest. He chokes and falls. Orissa jumps up and down in joy as Ruby smiles at her sister’s happiness.

“Ruby we’re really good at this, I’m sure mother would be so proud!” Ruby laughs.

“The old bat would be proud of anything we did. Now let’s clean up and get home. I’m sure mother would be more than happy to hear the full story.” Orissa nods in agreement and they get to packing up and heading to their home.

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I know I already broke the deal in my description box and I apologize for that. I got moved dorms out of no where yesterday and had to get that done. I’ll be trying to keep it up till Saturday, if I can I’ll keep it up. If I can’t I’ll go to once a week and try to fully fix up my stories to a better quality throughout the week. I hope you like this story and again, as much feedback as possible would be helpful thank you!

[nerdygirl738]

Me right now.

me: i’m going to write today!!

also me:

[nerdygirl738]

Curious Nature: 7/20/2020

The mud from the rainstorm the night brought has started to cake my shoes. Most would be annoyed but I welcome it. The earthy smell is a familiar comfort that I wouldn’t be able to do without. The woods have always been that way to me. Home. Safe. I run my hands across the brush and trees, feeling the life pulsing through the rough bark, delicate leaves, and twisting vines and twigs. I adjust my bag on my shoulder, holding my supplies can be a bit of a bother but it will be worth it in the end.

Finally reaching my destination I put my bag down on the familiar stump. The first thing I take out is the tarp and blanket, laying them on the ground in that order. The soft, dry quilt a contrast to the rest of the woods that surround. The next thing I take out is the packed lunches. I set them apart, nothing special just rice and beans with beef stew. I get my flute as the last thing from my bag. Sitting on the edge of the blanket I take a deep breath of the natural forest scent. And start to play.

The song I play comes out melodic and relaxed. Not a specific song in particular just one of a calming nature. The wind sways my hair and the leaves, carrying my song across the woods. I hear it then, the footsteps, but I keep playing. Stopping now will accomplish nothing. The tarp sinks into the mud the longer I sit there, but it’s nice to feel enveloped. Hearing the birds and bugs as if responding to my music as well is always encouraging. I open my eyes and see the being again.

It’s about as tall as the trees, more than enough to tower over, me. Its maw filled with sharp teeth and its body seeming out of proportion. The hands too big for the arms, the arms too big for the torso, the torso too big for the head. The legs too long, it always seems to crouch. Always something new to find about the appearance that seems to shape shift and change every time I look. Its eyes are the thing that draws me to look for it (him/her?) though. While the rest of the body is covered in scales of black and grays. The eyes, surrounded by brown fur, seem to change into all sorts of colors.

One minute its eyes are deep red, like pools of blood and rage, but the next it a sad dark blue that turns into an even deeper purple and black. After that it keeps the pattern, though I don’t think they show its real emotions since they change so randomly, there is no consistent pattern to follow. It takes everything in me to not get distracted by the eyes and to keep playing. I find is harder and harder as it gets closer, it’s presence and aura of power almost intimidating.

The birds and bugs, probably intimated as I feel, have all hushed as well. Whether they are scared of it, or curious and waiting with bated breath to see what will happen next, I’m not sure. Nevertheless, I keep playing. I’ve been doing this for so long, It’s practically routine.

It’s finally across from me. Tilting its head to look all the way down and watching me. This is when I stop playing. I gently put the flute down on the quilt and gesture to the packed lunch. I keep still, keep my eyes locked onto its. Watching the colors almost hypnotized. It slowly goes into a sitting position, one that looks like a dog more than what it’s standing position states about it. He uses his clawed hand, where I had previous thought it had working thumbs to nudge at the box. It seems curious. I move to grab the box, but it growls.

I freeze, feeling my heart in my throat and hear it in my ears. I slowly turn my head up and it stares at me, whether it’s a glare or a questioning stare is unknown to me. I swallow the lump in my throat and slowly while watching him again. Move to grab the box. I also grab mine. I put mine in my lap and shiver at the warmth the box still holds. I grab a piece with my hands, both not wanting to reach for a sharp, potentially dangerous looking object in front of it, and not entirely sure if it will even be able to use silverware anymore. That is, if it ever did. I eat a piece of the beef and smile, glad that the flavor really does seem to pop and is just so good. Now that I think about it, I hope it doesn’t mind flavor. I move the box in front of him and nudge it towards him a little more. I slowly continue to eat out of mine and watch as it looks between the box of food and me.

After what feels like forever of it contemplating everything. It reaches down, its mouth opening and a tongue seeming to actually be in proportion to its mouth comes out. It licks up some rice and beef and starts to chew, all while keeping watching, as scared as I am about what this strange being is doing. It trills, what I believe to happy. It’s definitely a happy trill since it reaches in and continues to eat more, stuffing it in its mouth like a starved man. I smile as I eat some rice. I’m glad to have brought hand sanitizer for this.

As it eats, I start to get bold and think, what would the fur feel like? I take the hand not covered in food and reach out. It’s stops eating to stare at my hand. I take another deep breath and reach out some more. It slightly growls at me as I get close to its forehead, stopping me an inch away. “Shhh…It’s okay…it’s okay.” I speak, I keep watching it as I start to move, and it stops growling. Maybe it understands me, maybe it’s the tone of voice. I would not be able to decipher just yet.

Finally, my head touches its head, the fur as very soft, like silk almost. The skin underneath feels scared and bumpy. Whether from years of surviving in the wild or fights with potentially others is another mystery. The thought that there could be others brings my stomach to churn and my heart to beat ecstatically. It leans it head in more and I see it reach for my food. “Hey…” I laugh as I move my hand in what I hope is a soothing and petting motion. It seems to purr this time, a new discovery. This creature, whatever it is, is so fascinating and interesting.

I feel it move and sit up, seemingly done with the food, liking its…lips…mouth as my hand leaves its head. He’s far too tall and big to actually reach otherwise. We stare at each other for a long moment. I smile at him, gentle and breathe a sigh of ease. I slowly reach down for my flute again and pick it up. It moves again backing up. I frown at this reaction, is it leaving? Does it not like the music? My worries are swept aside when it lays down. I take another deep breath of relief as I move the flute to my mouth.

This time instead of trying to just play some soothing notes I use it to try and communicate with it, if that makes any sense. I take another deep breath and play. I try to tell it a story. How the forest as always been home, how the trees carry the whispers and secrets of the many who have been here before. The birds and animals that live their lives, day by day. With no worry for tomorrow, just what will Io eat today. About the weather that afflicts them. From the warm sun’s ray that brings life to the plants and warms the creatures that bask in its glow, to the night sky that sparkles and twinkles in the lakes and rivers that the fish swim and hunt for food, just like the nocturnal creatures that thrive in the moonlight and the shadows. Concluding with the nature of the woods in the rain, the bringing of life-giving water that gives all life something to drink and keep things from staying the way they always were.

I open my eyes, not even realizing I have closed them, to see it sleeping. The breathing is even, and the chest rises with it. The smudges of food on its face bring a soft laugh from my face, it’s like a kid, in a way. I shift to put my flute down and move my hand to its head again.

I start to pet it again and study it’s face. What a strange creature? I think to myself. It seems to always have this canine like tooth hanging on the side of its face. The rest of his body is covered with scars upon scars. The scars look more deliberate than from a brawl on closer inspection. The lines are to straight and even. Maybe they aren’t scars, maybe it’s like a pattern in its skin. Maybe a lab got a hold, maybe others of its kind were able to do it to themselves. My mind is working full time coming up with stories to fill in the creature’s moments in life that I couldn’t have or would ever be able to witness myself.

It stirs and opens its eyes; the colors do seem to be changing again, but in a different way, the rainbow colors stay the same, but the dark seems to be brighter, more relaxed, the dark red is more like that of a light pink and the blue seems to be similar to that of the bright, cloud clear sky. I gasp, but that seems to bring it back to dark as it sits up and moves around. Its eyes looking around for… something. It gets up and runs back the way it came, seemingly fine with running in the mud and keeping its balance. I reach and almost call out to it but decide it might make things worse.

After processing all of it. I smile and stand up. Jumping in joy and dancing to myself. That was the closest it’s ever let me get. I’m so happy! But after almost slipping and falling I quickly readjust and chill out a bit. I got to fill the journal with more notes and answer what questions I can and add the ones I have. I quickly pack my things back in the bag on the stump and grab my bag over my shoulder. I take one look back and smile. I smile, hopefully tomorrow I can learn even more. Turning I head back the way I came, as the bird’s and bug’s music guide me back home.

[nerdygirl738]

Meme Issues!

My nephew just tried to make the longest "oof" ever and it hurt my soul! He just went "ooOoOOoooOOoooof!" And I just had whiplash!

[nerdygirl738]

Quick!

Can someone who draws or photoshoots (whichever works) draw Rumpelstiltskin as Rasputin. Long story short we were talking about the amount of Shrek movies and I fucked up and said Rasputin instead of Rumpelstiltskin.

[nerdygirl738]

My brother, mother, and I were talking about McDonald's food and how fake it is and at one point I said "I didn't know you could fake potatoes." Then my brother with went: " Well I didn't think you could fake a country but here we are in America." With a little head swaggle and full force sarcasm and I just died laughing. 😂😂😂😂

[nerdygirl738]

Story Prompt

Not sure if this has been done but I know there's been/is a lot of the dragon "kidnapping" the princess/prince for different reasons like finding someone or even romance but what if it was like a 1:20 dragon to princess/prince ratio and the dragon's just struggling to help them with everything but like can't say no.

Random knight: "Free the royalty foul beast!"

Princess 1: "Oh we got one how tall is he?"

Dragon: "Well-."

Princess 2: "Forget that is he a she?"

Dragon: "I Thi-."

Prince 1: "Don't want a she do you think he can lift me?"

Dragon: *Internal screaming*

[nerdygirl738]

Is it bad that I can imagine a hardcore skittles fan throwing this at some hater and saying "TASTE THE RAINBOW YOU BITCH!"

[nerdygirl738]

How to tumbler?

Can someone explain navigating tumbler? Like I got it but I have no idea how this works. I've tried but I can't seem to tumbler right. Can a tumbler veteran explain this to me please?

[nerdygirl738]

Family Problems

When you have a rascist/homophobic mom that refuses to realize she's rasicts/ homophobic.

When you have a bullheaded father that doesn't know what "listening" is.

When you have an older sister that's only for "equality" where it supports her.

When you have a little brother who's all of the above and decides to inflict it onto you.

When you can't say anything without getting yelled at or being made fun of due to being socialmy awkward and a quiet female who physically can't fight as good as the rest of them.

When you add to the problem by also making/laughing at sexist/racist/homophobic comments and jokes to fit in and get some kind of positive recognition from them other then trophy daughter.

😧😧😧😭😭😭😒😒😒👿👿👿😢😢😢😢😩😫😓😩😫😓

[nerdygirl738]

A kids mind is delicate ok. Not to mention they are the future generation that us supposed to try to keep the human species alive, so if they mentally aren't ok then so will the generation after that+. We shouldn't let this be a norm in our society now or ever.

Hating kids

ok so I don’t get this trend of “hating kids”. It’s all over social media, everyone talks about how disgusting and annoying kids are and that kids are their “pet peeves” and so on. Let me talk about this once and for all.

It’s ok:

- not to want kids of your own - not wanting a career that involves kids - not wanting to spend lots of time with kids of family/ friends -feeling uncomfortable when being surrounded by kids

It’s NOT OK:

-to be rude or showing that you’re annoyed to kids or parents. It’s hurtful and makes people (big or small) feel bad about themselves and their families - talk to kids like they’re stupid. Kids quickly pick up on things and it messes with their self-esteem -to be a dick and talk shit about kids. Other people might not share your opinion and get hurt -expose kids to inappropriate language/ tv/ etc just because you don’t care

please remember:

-that you were a kid once too -that kids have done nothing wrong and the hate is growing within yourself -if you work with kids or in a school, being annoyed and rude to them will make them hate school and possibly screw with their future -working with kids in general if you don’t like them -that everyone has to be a kid in order to grow and become an educated adult -that there are old people that are probably annoyed by you and your actions and noises as well -that all kids are different and deserve to be treated as beautiful individuals -that all kids deserve a smile back, a friendly ear and help if they ask you to.

Don’t be a dick to kids, it’s not cool

[nerdygirl738]

This sounds wonderful! WHY ARE WE NOT FUNDING THIS?!?!

Alright my dudes, I reblog stuff all the time for a signal boost so I’m counting on y'all.

‘The Book of Nimrod’ is this web series I just discovered about a drug dealer who winds up having to raise this little girl after her mom basically sold her for drugs.

Yeah it’s real low budget and there’s technical problems but the cast and crew are so passionate about their work. Just do me a favor…. hit reblog. Everyone deserves a chance to be seen.

[nerdygirl738]

One of the things that I just realized is in here that I sincerely don’t like is at the end where it seperate men from feminist s, as if they are two seperate entities and to fight for equal rights between gender is something only women do. Which is something not often adressed as far as I’ve seen.

Society immediately put this as a feminine thing because most of the people were females when this movement started. But there we’re men too. Men who believed that their wife, daughter, sister, mother, etc. should be equal to them. I know a lot of people (even females) stereotype feminists as adherently female but there are males and I would love if more males bee feminists and joined us in protest and petitions.

Not only does it break the stereotype AND shows that we fight for equality. But it empowers men to do the one thing society has always not allowed them to do, show empathy and emotion. The want to be able to cry and feel sad and talk to someone without being judged (their right to freedom of speech and to seek emotion acceptance and help) and the empathy and care to understand that both sides have major problems (fighting for a woman’s freedom of speech and allow them to be equal in a workplace and respected as an intellectuals instead of objects that move up in life because of appearance).

I understand her point is that we are fighting for equality and not just females. But that last line made me realize that socially only females can fight for there right. Not men who also have different problem. But problems none the less.

[nerdygirl738]

Is there a villain trope in which the villain is doing nothing wrong but it still effects the heroine in a negative way?

For example, the villain gets a job promotion but the heroine needed it to get her closer to the man that killed her mother to exact revenge inadvertently protecting him.

[nerdygirl738]

Get you could say someone had a shitty day.😅.

bathroom banksy

Okay, so multiple people have been smearing shit on the stall walls in the bathrooms at my school. And it has to be multiple people because its happened in all of the bathrooms, both male and female, and has been going on for 11+ years according to our principal. it happens only in the handicapped stall, and it occurs year round including summer school. I knew a kid who got busted for doing this, he got known as “shit lord” and ended up having to switch schools. Everybody has walked in to the bathrooms here and seen these various shit stains and the school doesn’t know how to fix it. Its usually some thing really nice like a little heart, or a peace sign, or whatever.

[nerdygirl738]

Social Media Offsprings

Twitter + Instagram = twittygram

Snapchat + Facebook = Snapbook

Tumbler + Facebook = Tumbook

MySpace + Twitter = TwitterSpace

Courtesy of my principle. 😆😂