Newgrounds.com — Everything, By Everyone.

I was the calm before the storm,
Oh so silently I stood.

Waves of emotion washed off my face,
It was only a matter of time before I needed a new slate.
My buttons were pushed,
I was broken inside, oh know here it comes the tide.

All I needed was direction,
It was your decision to beat me down.
I've discovered a path so let go of my wrist,
I'm off to safety now, I can finally unclench my fist.

Here I am on my own, a little bit lost and alone,
But I try and I try and I will continue in stride.

[Chorus]:
There's always a light from the sky leading me through the night,
And I'm far more likely to find my way without you.
I once went to you for guidance but you only turned me down,
so I'll pull out my broken compass and slowly find my way out.
You can stand and let me pass you or like fire, lead the way.

I'm taking the road less traveled,
it might be the harder route,
But the wind will keep me pushing and it's your sea of doubt that will keep me afloat.
My veins are fueled with fire from the anger from the things I've let slide,
I'm sorry but now it's not something I keep inside.

Each and everyday I'm finding my way,
enjoying the ups and working through the downs.
I'll always remember certain faces as I pass through these northern towns.

[Chorus]

I'm the only the only one who has say but always,
like fire, lead the way.

[Chorus]

Written by me, always more than welcome to accept constructive criticism, or questions to do with the poem.
:)

+
I'm a fucking lady.

I wanna be classy, trashy and all around a hot mess. That's how I feel sometimes, screaming out my anger at walls and to people who hurt me, who broke me down and reminded me of the fucked up things. All I wanna do is run run run and feel the rain, the wind and the rush of fire in my veins that fuels me, that picks me up and tells me every single day that I'm going to be something greater than the pieces of my broken heart scattered everywhere, all over. Paint a picture of me darling, a picture of me nude, to expose all my scars and to show people the war that I've fought, to expose the truth that I hide away from the world.
Love me baby, cause when all the souls are lost I'll never stop looking for yours.

Mind the grammar errors, I really do suck at it. I just want some opinions.

I wish one day I could wake up with his arms around me, and not remember them being there before I went to sleep the night before, and there would be breakfast on a tray sitting there for us and we could sit there and have a mutual decision to let the sun shine in on ourselves all day with no interruptions from nothing and he'd have to convince me to stay put while he did everything for the day. When night comes he'd take me outside and we'd go for a walk under the stars and he'd let me pick out all the constellations I knew, and we could make up stories about being rulers on different planets. We'd end the night by going back and cuddling and examining each others bodies like they were still new to us after so long and then we would let our mutual attraction do what it naturally would do, and there would be nobody there but us to enjoy the affection between two people in love. I'd be able to sit there and look at him and tell him thanks for the beautiful surprise that I've been waiting so long for.

Coming from a girl:
Okay,
1) Stop generalizing, there's females out there who aren't "replicates of snookie or whoever else you idolize on television.", go out and find one and stop posting on the forums about how all girls are the same. There's most definitely someone out there who would be more than willing to show you their genuineness if you would take that blindfold off your stupid eyes.
2) Stated before, get off the forums and take that confidence you seem to have and go and get a nice girl, chicks dig confidence.. and if it's not all computer tough guy bullshit then go out and search for her cause she's out there waiting for you.
3) Ever stop and think that maybe women love men who are rich because those men give their women everything they want when they are rich? Sure, some women are materialistic whores who fuck anything with a golden dick but you got to give some the benefit of the doubt... you say you just want a genuine girl, think about all the women/girls out there who are searching for some guy who doesn't just want fuck and chuck them...
/rant.

A guy making a video of what girls are attracted to.... I highly doubt any of them are true but I guess I'll check it out...

You loose the game, some lucky fuck is so gonna get her now.

I've had a clingy boyfriend before, and it was pretty annoying and he expected so much in such a short period of time, which is why we only lasted about a month and some.
I wouldn't call my current boyfriend clingy, after a year and a half we've learned to spend time apart and with our friends... It really just depends what kind of person you are. I personally like knowing that my boyfriend is confident enough to go out without me and that I can go out without him although a lot of the time we like going out together and we always make it known that we're a couple.

My stupid cellphone was supposed to be on lock but it called and they ended up calling me back and I had no clue why or what happened until I looked through my dialed calls -_-

At 4/1/11 03:33 AM, Zombified wrote: I have a pretty clingly girlfriend, but I do my own thing most of the time, so it even's out.

Weird that I find this post... I'm not that cliny.

I gotta say that Donkey Kong1&2 on Supernintendo was the shit and the Sims 1&2 for PC rule and still rules.

When I have a baby I'll name it Noname, like the old lady with the white dog up the road, because it's better then nothing. Then all the kids will laugh at you in the schoolyard and you'll have nothing to defend yourself with, because I was on morphine when I had you, because the doctors couldn't get you out properly. Punish me for my mistake, I'll name you Leeland instead, hopefully that will be better, but then I'll forget the old lady with the white dog up the road, who died alone without a name.

You'll grow up fine and have everything you need.
But you're still going to ask why I named you Noname,
And I'll reply, "The doctors wrote what I said,
And I was thinking about the lady in my head."
She died a lonely death, with no one at her side
Not even her white dog, which died before her too,
But Noname never cried she was happy to be gone.

Maybe when you're old you'll be lonely too,
And buy a little white dog.
But hopefully not,
Because, that would be sad.

Wrote this awhile ago.Not sure what to think of it..

At 1/28/10 01:17 AM, ElectricPlayground wrote: pyjamas with the same dark circles under her eyes from the first day my dad had left. There were the odd days when I'd come home and the house would be clean and supper on the table, and she'd even be humming or even singing the "I will survive" song, I know it now that it was a bit ironic that I'd hear her singing that when she was slumped on the couch with a box of tissues beside her but I never said anything but gave her a big hug and told her about my day because she always asked me if the kids gave me a hard time that day. Sometimes I'd say no, even though they did. You see, the first day I realized that my father Richard was not coming back to see my mother and I was one of the saddest days in all my life and I will never forget it because it has imprinted on me so deeply and would forever change my future and how I saw relationships in life. Although I never realized any of this at the time, all I remember is staying up all night wishing he'd walk through that door. Sometimes I think my mom did that too, but she did it every night instead. I let myself cry the first time when I realized it and there was nobody to go to because my mom needed me to be strong for her. So I sat there, looking at the paper with the number on it and over and over again I contemplated calling him, or whoever's number it was. I slowly got off the bench by the window near the door in the living room and walked over to the phone, it was twenty-five after one, I picked it up and dialled the number that was on the paper, it rang three times and somebody finally answered, it was my father. He answered; "Hello?" in a groggy voice and I stayed on the line for about ten seconds and then hung up. I went up to my room and cried myself to sleep. I made a realization that moment, he wasn't going to come back and he already had another place out there, I had no idea if it was in Sudbury or not, but he was out there living somewhere without us and for all I knew he was happy. I told myself that I'd never go and find him when I was eighteen and that I was not going to chase people in a relationship for the rest of my entire life. I would live for myself and only myself.

Now you see, around seven years later when I was seventeen I met Anita Cleverly and fell for her. I broke the forgotten promise I made myself seven years earlier and never realized it until it was too late. Again, I had to relive the first day of my life.

AGH, totally disregard that this, part... i copied the wrong part.
here:

I looked at those numbers on that piece of paper my father, Richard Thompson, gave me countless times. I knew it was a phone-number but for where had me stumped and I was scared to call. I was told by a councillor that my mother was going to be all right and all she needed was rest and to be taken care of. I was told that my father had left us and there wasn't a very large chance that he would be coming back any time soon if at all. There were many times where I'd come home from school or Ian's house and find my mother spread out on the couch still in her pyjamas with the same dark circles under her eyes from the first day my dad had left. There were the odd days when I'd come home and the house would be clean and supper on the table, and she'd even be humming or even singing the "I will survive" song, I know it now that it was a bit ironic that I'd hear her singing that when she was slumped on the couch with a box of tissues beside her but I never said anything but gave her a big hug and told her about my day because she always asked me if the kids gave me a hard time that day. Sometimes I'd say no, even though they did. You see, the first day I realized that my father Richard was not coming back to see my mother and I was one of the saddest days in all my life and I will never forget it because it has imprinted on me so deeply and would forever change my future and how I saw relationships in life. Although I never realized any of this at the time, all I remember is staying up all night wishing he'd walk through that door. Sometimes I think my mom did that too, but she did it every night instead. I let myself cry the first time when I realized it and there was nobody to go to because my mom needed me to be strong for her. So I sat there, looking at the paper with the number on it and over and over again I contemplated calling him, or whoever's number it was. I slowly got off the bench by the window near the door in the living room and walked over to the phone, it was twenty-five after one, I picked it up and dialled the number that was on the paper, it rang three times and somebody finally answered, it was my father. He answered; "Hello?" in a groggy voice and I stayed on the line for about ten seconds and then hung up. I went up to my room and cried myself to sleep. I made a realization that moment, he wasn't going to come back and he already had another place out there, I had no idea if it was in Sudbury or not, but he was out there living somewhere without us and for all I knew he was happy. I told myself that I'd never go and find him when I was eighteen and that I was not going to chase people in a relationship for the rest of my entire life. I would live for myself and only myself.

Now you see, around seven years later when I was seventeen I met Anita Cleverly and fell for her. I broke the forgotten promise I made myself seven years earlier and never realized it until it was too late. Again, I had to relive the first day of my life.

pyjamas with the same dark circles under her eyes from the first day my dad had left. There were the odd days when I'd come home and the house would be clean and supper on the table, and she'd even be humming or even singing the "I will survive" song, I know it now that it was a bit ironic that I'd hear her singing that when she was slumped on the couch with a box of tissues beside her but I never said anything but gave her a big hug and told her about my day because she always asked me if the kids gave me a hard time that day. Sometimes I'd say no, even though they did. You see, the first day I realized that my father Richard was not coming back to see my mother and I was one of the saddest days in all my life and I will never forget it because it has imprinted on me so deeply and would forever change my future and how I saw relationships in life. Although I never realized any of this at the time, all I remember is staying up all night wishing he'd walk through that door. Sometimes I think my mom did that too, but she did it every night instead. I let myself cry the first time when I realized it and there was nobody to go to because my mom needed me to be strong for her. So I sat there, looking at the paper with the number on it and over and over again I contemplated calling him, or whoever's number it was. I slowly got off the bench by the window near the door in the living room and walked over to the phone, it was twenty-five after one, I picked it up and dialled the number that was on the paper, it rang three times and somebody finally answered, it was my father. He answered; "Hello?" in a groggy voice and I stayed on the line for about ten seconds and then hung up. I went up to my room and cried myself to sleep. I made a realization that moment, he wasn't going to come back and he already had another place out there, I had no idea if it was in Sudbury or not, but he was out there living somewhere without us and for all I knew he was happy. I told myself that I'd never go and find him when I was eighteen and that I was not going to chase people in a relationship for the rest of my entire life. I would live for myself and only myself.

Now you see, around seven years later when I was seventeen I met Anita Cleverly and fell for her. I broke the forgotten promise I made myself seven years earlier and never realized it until it was too late. Again, I had to relive the first day of my life.

I started this in December..ish. It was inspired from one a dude I worked with, it's not about him or even based on him, just the idea stemmed from him. I haven't written anything in a little bit but I want to start again. I'm just looking for some feedback...

"Introduction to Luke Skywalker"

My name is Charlie Anghetti, but sometimes I tell people my names Luke Skywalker. I'm not even a Star Wars fan, but I know my knowledge. I'm 22 and still living with my mother, I know you're probably thinking "oh great, another one of these guys..." Well if you're looking for something with action and crazy adventures stop reading now because there are nothing more then a few tragic stories about my oh-so exciting life in this accumulation.

I should be at the University of Toronto right now studying English Lit. But, because of adverse situations regarding my mother and many other complications, I'm not. I should be living in a condo on Young St. right now, but I'm stuck in my mother's basement in Sudbury Ontario. If you don't know where that is, hit up Google and type "Nickel capital of the world" or, " Top boring cities in Canada" and you'll find Sudbury in the top ten, only kidding about that last fact of course. Although on many occasions I wonder if it would be in the ten top most boring Canadian cities, if those statistics did actually exist. I have many friends that I talk to on a regular basis but only four that I actually speak to in real life and not via the Internet; there's Ian Pierce, Jennifer Weldly, and Brandon Bunker and my psychiatrist Maria Miller. The other ones all have names such as, "cutie_69, ihatetheworld, SlashMeSoICanBreathe". Screen names are what they're called, before I discovered what they were I recall thinking to myself, "Now why would somebody name their kid BeautifulWeakness and then insist to add 633 at the end of it?"

My daily schedule doesn't change very often, I go to work, after my eight hour shift I go and buy Presidents Choice Free Run Eggs to make for my mother every morning, and after that is usually where my day changes a bit... there's usually four things that could happen, I go and see Maria, I go home and sit at the computer for about six hours straight, go to Ian's and have a drink with the other two, or I go for a two-hour jog depending on how much energy and motivation I have left. When I'm not working I spend the majority of my time at the one and only Chapters Book store they have in this city, reading books. I sit there for hours on end and read the entire book, that way I don't have to bring it home unless it's worth the money and my time for my over-analyzing tendencies. I work at an off the charts fast food restaurant called Deluxe Hamburgers, there's only three in Sudbury and nowhere else in the world, or so I've been told, and Google has proved my boss Tim Moyers to be right.
You see my life doesn't consist of much. It once had some purpose, but it ran away with somebody last winter, she said it wasn't coming back. Well, she told me that telepathically when she left and knew I heard it because she never looked out the window like she usually did every time she'd drive away. Sometimes I didn't want to grow up. I think life would've been easier that way. The past is so damn hard to forget sometimes, when all I can think about is how everything was so carefree and simple. Not that my life is one big complication, just if I could stop time for awhile I'd actually be able to sort out all the difficult parts and put them under my bed in the locked box with her name on it and continue with my life.

My name is Luke Skywalker and I'm clinically depressed, I suffer with mild case of Aspergers but my mother covers that up with saying I'm socially awkward, I'm not sure what's worse... being socially awkward or how my mom uses those words as a way of being nice.

"The first day of my life"

It's been twelve years since I've saw my father. I remember the last day I saw him; it was the summer of '97 on a Monday morning. Holding one of his travel bags, he sat me down and gave me some numbers written down on a piece of paper and told me to come find him if I wanted to when I was eighteen and that he'd always love me. At the time I had no idea and put the paper in my pocket, I gave him a hug like I would've done any other day before he went to work. What I didn't realize was that my mother was standing in the kitchen doorway behind me looking at him with pleading eyes until I looked at the reflection in his sunglasses and saw her there with one my father's sweater he always wore. When he gave me that last hug, which I was not aware was my last at that point, I remember thinking about the emotion in his voice when he said the things he said to me. When he finally let go I looked at him closely and saw all the wrinkles in his face when he was looking at my mother, I could've sworn he was my grandfather. I had no idea why I hadn't noticed all of them before, and it was something I was going to look more closely at when he came back later that day. I remember planning the whole day out for how I was going to ask him about them so it wouldn't offend him. When he took his final walk out of the door he looked back and tipped his hat to my mother like he always did and his sunglasses slightly fell down the bridge of his nose and he winked at me and said, "see you my boy". I remember my mother slowly slumping down to the floor and letting out an immense sigh, I turned to her and asked her if she was alright and for the very first time she said, "I don't know how to answer that", actually she didn't say anything for a long time and when she finally did she had tears in her eyes and said "no". I wanted to call emergency because I didn't know what to do, she started crying and I stood there watching her for a whole two hours. I had no clue why and she didn't say anything but "no" every time I asked her something. I asked her if she wanted me to call my father's work, but she said "no" to that too. When she finally got up, she walked into the bathroom and ten minutes later she came out and had a smile on her face and her eyes were all done up in eyeliner. She made me scrambled eggs as she usually did every morning and asked me what I was up to that day. Everything seemed fine after that, until the time when my father was supposed to come home, it happened again but this time, she had the news on and was sitting in my father's usual seat and again she was crying, but this time it was much harder then before and with more panic. I sat there and watched her and observed the dark circles under her eyes and wondered if they had always been there, I told her to go to bed but she didn't seem to hear me. This time I called my best friend Ian's mom and told her my mom wouldn't stop crying, she asked me what was wrong and I told her my dad wasn't back from work yet and she is sitting in his chair in the living room. The next little bit is a blur for me but I'll try to recount what happened. Arlene (Ian's mother) told me that she would be over within the next twenty-minutes and when she showed up, she had a traveling bag in her hand as well, she told me to go to the car and to talk to Ian. I slightly remember me going but stopping halfway down the hall, and heard my mother talking to Arlene, "He's gone for real this time. It's not a business trip; he's gone for good. I shouldn't have pushed him Arlene." That's when everything sort of blurs, I don't really remember much from that night after hearing those words come from my mother's mouth.
* * *

I enjoyed the mood of this, really cool.

The first time I got high goes like this:

Like they say, there's nothing like your first time getting high.. well that was of coarse my favourite haha.
My friend went to our local drug dealer in the neighborhood after I shot a ten doller bill at her and said, "I want to get high finally", after she picked up, we went to a friends place, we made the stupid but classic popcan pipe, and sparked up. I wasn't feeling anything for most of the time, after we smoked the whole thing my friend was really disapointed because it didn't affect me. Well, like, 10 minutes later our other friend was in the kitchen and I walked in, he asked me if I wanted some cheese curds and I started to giggle and tell him I didn't like cheese curds, and then as I started to laugh I turned around and hit a wall and BAM! Everything... was so much more AMAZING. I fell to the floor laughing and couldn't get up for about a minute later. My friends were standing there laughing at me because they knew I was finally stoned as fuck. I walked out of the kitchen and for some reason, everything was so bright(mind you it was the middle of the day in the summertime). I couldn't keep a smile off my face, and laughed at the stupidest thing.. it's been awhile now so a lot of it is a blur, but we ended up leaving my friend's apartment and started walking around, we were heading to our friends place and my dad's car drove by, he stopped and I was TERRIFIED...he asked me when I was planning on coming home and I kept in my giggles and said "Later dad..." and then started walking really fast, as my friends were sort of just standing where I was before, watching me. My two friends of coarse did the (now lame) bubble trick and I fell for it completely..laughing uncontrollably. I remember a bunch of different things, me lieing down in a feild laughing my ass off at the clouds, swinging on swings and closing my eyes with the sun in them laughing at that.. finally we ran into some other friends, they were speachless when they saw me and couldn't believe I finally did it, so they joined in the fun and got some more weed...oh brother.. what a great time. When I finally started calming down, we went to the store, now I'm always kind of awkward when I buy stuff, so when I went up to the cash with a bag of dill pickle chips, I ask the store clerk "Is this bag of dill pickle chips more DILLicious as the other kind of dill pickle chips".. my friend started laughing at me and the store clerk just stared at me, I gave the money to my friend and ran out of the store before I could burst into laughter.. I remember my high coming to a end when I was lieing in one of my friend's front yard, talking about life and how it's all going to be different now, then I woke up a little while later because a mosquito was buzzing around my ear, to find my friends all sitting on the deck laughing at me when they realized I was up... I wasn't high anymore and we just sat around and talked about stuff. I woke up the next morning, and went and got high.
This went on for a good year and a half until my giggles started calming down and I started needing to smoke a lot more weed to get high. It's still fun when I do it, but I just grew out of it sort of thing. Although, I definitely will never forget some of the amazing times I've had while smoking weed or being high.

Thanks guys.
I'll take this advice and probably edit this a bit more, or maybe even add some.
Thanks for the advice TNT, really appreciated and same with TigerKitty, thank you.
I'll probably update this soon.
:)

I enjoyed reading the first one but you should focus on the plot more, as mentioned in comments above.
The seond one the reminds me of Brave New World by Aldous Huxely for some strage reason, very discriptive for both. I like the details.
Don't stop writing.

Thank you, I'm in the process of doing a charcole drawing on canvas with this poem along the side of it in black paint.

Ariel, the recluse

While all the people slap their knees
The recluse just looks at her feet,
Listening to the beat of the music, heads bopping up and down,
The recluse puts her hands to the side and listens with her head hanging to the ground.
Oh she's there, there somewhere in that heavy mind of hers.
Her hands are shaking and sweat drips from her temple; the hair she flattens with an iron is starting to curl.
The recluse is on the run, nobody notices or wonders where.
Because she doesn't have friends who're there,
In fact she has none at all.

When you're born with webbed feet, and a tongue that's tied,
You wouldn't say much either.
Long hair that's different colors, and green eyes that never open quite wide,
It doesn't take long to pass her by.
Take a step back and turn around,
Cause she's there all the time waiting for someone to say "Hi"

I wrote this April20th, 2009. It reminds me of a girl I go to school with...

At 1/27/10 01:23 AM, Laughingbox wrote: I'm... I'm sorry, but i'm lost. You said "you" and now you're saying "I" in a way that switches from Second to third POV. You might also want to double-check your grammar. You don't need to bold your story either.

Thanks for the tips, I should have re-read and edited it. I have such a bad habbit of switching POVs in my writing it's hard to keep up a lot. I bolded it so when I said "critisize away" people would recognize that it's not part of it.

The medicine:
We walk slowly down the park path in a sway. There's nothing to say anymore but talk of old memories. Hand in hand, it feels like I'm holding icecubes instead. It's late fall and there's a thick sleet of ice coating the ground. I look to the sky and wonder in the silence what it was that brought us together in the first place, we were both going through times of trouble,maybe the coming feeling of being lost led us to eachother. I needed someone to occupy my feelings just as much as he did.
"Are you okay?" you ask, "I was okay before I met you and I'm still okay right now, you just help a little" I say and look to the ground. When I looked up he wasn't looking at me, he wasn't looking at anything in particular, just staring ahead. The path was nearing an end and I looked him through the side of my eyes and mine met his, I turned my head to look at him, "I wasn't okay before I met you, but now I am, I'm more then okay and you helped a lot." He tells me this like I should be thankful, am I? Maybe I don't know. He lets go of my hand and leaves it freezing. The path ends and we look at eachother for a good two minutes.
He smiles, "I'm okay now", I smile back at him, "I'm a lot better now".
I walk home and go to sleep,not feeling anything at all. It's been three months since I've saw him, I'm still okay.

Okay, critisize away.