#ratemywriting

[ijustneedanameidontcarewhat-blog]

everyone wants to know how to be better

how to beat your enemy

some people ‘to beat your enemy, you have to know them - to be them’. this has always confused me. if they are the enemy, and you are trying to be better, doesn’t that make them bad? why would you have any business knowing them? why would you want to BE them

the best way to be better, is to know there isnt an enemy.

when a wolf sees a rabbit, it sees life. when the rabbit sees the wolf, it sees danger. it doesn’t matter how much the rabbit know aboit the wolf. pretending to be a wolf doesnt help the rabbit live.

you see, the rabbit has existed thousands of years as prey to the wolf. they have adapted, not to be the wolf or kill the wolf directly, but to live easier. no matter what, the rabbit dies. so does the wolf.

the rabbit thinks about eating, shitting, and fucking. not being better than the wolf. to do this, it knows its own strengths, and does as necessary.

strip humans of their need to better THAN SOMEBODY and maybe life is a little easier for our rabbits of society. now. all we have to do and think about is eating, shitting, and fucking. anthropologists know how this turns out.

so who is better? the rabbit with no purpose who becomes worm food, or the human who never reaches their purpose, who becomes worm food?

[little-writer-boi]

Beautiful Eyes/Just Tell Me

Your eyes are golden diamonds that would leave jewelers in awe./

Twenty-Four carat golden portals to your soul./

Eyes that can make the most beautiful sunset, weep out of jealousy./ 

Eyes that pierce right through me./

Seeing into who I really am./ 

You are a telescope, I am a petri dish./

You analyse my every move and record your findings for later use./

Just tell me./

Why you find me so interesting./

Just tell me./ 

How badly this is going to hurt me./

Just tell me./

When you plan on leaving me./

Just tell me./

So it’ll hurt less./ 

When I see those beautiful eyes look away one last time./

[fitz-parks]

Check out my profile on Wattpad, https://www.wattpad.com/FitzgeraldParks?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_profile Just recently got back into creative writing. Working a novel right now, was looking for a place to receive editing advice and constructive criticism. I have a goal in place for finished product and really look forward to hitting it. Summer 2019.

[little-writer-boi]

A Dark Scene.

Deep, muffled sounds in the deep ocean. Darkness hides all. Tentacles slither around, waking from a thousand years of rest. Ancient bodies stir awake, each one standing up under the great pressure of the ocean’s depth. Their slumber is over. Fish swim quickly away, unsure of what monstrosities have just reared their ugly, deformed heads. Crabs and other shellfish scurry away as fast as they can from these alien-like creatures.. A giant beast wakes and stands above all else. It’s mouth opens to reveal rows and rows of sharp, jagged teeth. Once opened, it lets out an deafening roar that shakes the very earth it stands on. It hungers. 

[little-writer-boi]

#2

To quote Pat Benatar, “Love is a battlefield”./

We put ourselves in the line of fire for others for what reason?/

In most cases they repay us with acts of treason./

Unwilling to handle a relationship that changes like seasons./

Start off in Spring with the cute lovey dovey teasing./

Turn into summer with hot hearts that start feeling./

Fall away from my heart, that’s what you’re stealing./

But when winter comes, you stop dealing./

with me, myself, and my feelings./

My heart chambers peeling./ 

Lie on the floor bleeding as  you’re leaving. /

You’re beautiful, sweetie./

An angel whose horns are holding up her halo that she’s keeping./

Spring often brings life and new beginning./ 

But, please/

Just leave me be now that my heart has stopped beating.

[little-writer-boi]

Painting a scene with words.

An old dusty factory, long forgotten with the passing of time. The forges that at some point had a fiery heart in them, have been cold for ages. A thick layer of dust and cobwebs lay upon the cogs and gears that once powered this great factory. it’s workers used to produce the finest weapons in all the land, some used in the great war, some were stored away due to admiration for the craftsmanship, and some used for security around this old, now decrepit factory. Tools lie neatly next to, and occasionally on, the work stations and anvils, all  infected with years of rust and decay. In the factory a beast now dwells. This beast is tall, adorned with different colored scales going from a deep auburn red to a mustard yellow. This beast also curls up when it is sleeping, making what looks almost like a mound of scales with a long tail that can demolish any structure with a hard enough swing. When standing, this beast stretches out its long, red and yellow, wings, occasionally letting out a horrifying roar that shakes the heavens. It horrifies, and can definitely murder, any one that decides to enter. So enter at your own risk.