Some of you might be thinking that this thread will involve pictures of some kind. In some ways it will, but the pictures will not be posted. These images, must be written out. The purpose of this thread is to express a sense of imagery to all the other users. No matter what image you want, try to explain it.
Now obviously, just stating one sentence about something you see is boring. So how about you make something that is exciting and suspenseful. Something that engages other members of the BBS to ease into a comfortable position on their chair, and relax their eyes as they start to imagine. Your words will guide us as to what to see... what to hear, what to feel. Anything that provokes the senses, or brings back certain memories can be acceptable.
It would be best however in my opinon, if you expressed a story or even a poem. That way, its not just a boring sentence, but rather, something you would like to read and can pick up imagery throughout reading it. Now, expressing imagery is easier than it seems, just look at the second paragraph, and you notice that I used it.
Just write what you feel is good. I am sure I, as well as many others will tell you whether or not your story/poem was good, and what we were able to get out of it. I guess I will start off things with a simple story. The story doesnt have to have a point by the way, but it would be nice if it did.
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It was beautiful that night. The moon shining brightly like a gigantic pearl in a dark room. The stars were aiding in lighting the ground I was lieing in. I could see the little reflections of light that were cast upon each individual blade of glass. It was moist in the air, and a little chilly. However, the warm and comforting wool sweater that hugged my body was more than enough to enjoy the night. The blanket I was lieing on was cozy, and the candle that lay to my right was still flickering slightly each time a fentle breeze swept my path. I looked at my watch... I was early. The basket to my left was sitting there... staring at me. I stared back. Another breeze came across my face, this one slightly more violent then the previous one. I had to squint my eyes. But, once I opened them, my heart started to pump blood with more force. I could see that gorgious smile from a mile away.
She was finally here, and it was time to begin the best night of our lives.
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So you see, it isnt that hard to project images into the minds of others. All you need is a little creativity (and hopefully, some proper grammar), and doing this should be a piece of cake. Good luck to everyone. I shall post more eventually, but until then, thank you for your time.
It was a dark and stormy night. The wind was racing towards me. I felt my body began to shiver, like a fish out of water. Thunder echoed inside the small room, while my heart was beating ever so fast. I held tight to my blanket as I heard voices from the walls. Darkness then filled the room, as I fear for my life. Lighting screamed within my head. Then, as worse as things were, the door started to crack. I could feel the end coming. To numb to move, I stayed in my corner, awaiting my fate. The door creaked ever so slowly, like someone wanted me to suffer. I door finally flew open. I closed my eyes and never wanted to open them again. I then found myself lying in bed. My parents had returned. The nightmare was over.
the push
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as i sat there, i pondered how to approach my current situation, would i attempt the single big 'un, or would destiny take me down the path of the machine gun. I would not be long finding out, because the cycle soon began. At first all seemed normal, my ass cheeks parted, and the oak coloured logs began leaping out of the depths of my anus like crazed lemmings, but soon i realised something was wrong, when after 15 minutes of solid defacating, my bowels still produced the soggy brown presents.
I lifted my gellutonus cheeks from the seat slightly, i could feel the skin peel from the ceramic lid. I reached down and parted my hairy ass even more with my hands, accidentally fingering my ringhole in the process, it stung slightly, the cons of taking a 15 minute crap previosuly. Then, with every ounce of strength i had, i pushed. It wasnt long before the sweat glistened on my forhead, dripping every now and then as a constent reminder of how hard it is to tease out a pretty impressive shit. I could hear the very splatter as each individual log that parted with my posterior, i was overcome with emotion, and began to weep silently, deep down i felt like i was drowning babies, these massive craps were indeed, like children to me. My wandering mind frolicked back to happier times, and i remembered the day i shat in a jam jar and took it for a night on the town.
My daydream was suddenly shattered as from the deepest reaches of my stomach, i felt a tremble, then a groan, and without any further warning, my cornhole vomited out a three metre stream of hot sticky runny crap. So powerfull was the spray, that i could feel small particles of crap bouning back onto my naked body ( i had peeled my clothes off and discarded them in a small pile at my feet because of the sweat ), and it took all my remaing stamina to simply remain in that position, and not be propelled forward by the jet powered wave of diarreha Finally, the diabolical torrent subsided, and i breathed a happy sigh of relief.
....
well... how did i do ?
this thread is lame, with a capital L
as a wise man once said - " i don't know whats i be doin'... "
Why not make a poetry/creative writing club?
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Nervous but excited, -NightCrawler- clicked new topic, his palms sweating with anticipation. He rarely ventured into the C&C section, occationally for a stimulating discussion on the juicy details of Splinter-cell. But he was determined to do it. Newgrounds was full of uninteresting, overdone topics about sex, drugs and private parts. What it needed was some TLC; what it needed was a creative writing/grammar club. He could almost taste the end product as his new crew was being processed by the interenet, awaiting sweet sensual authorization.
Suspense hieghtened, as his 33.6k "sportster" modem caught on a teporary infinate loop. A swift kick, and it resumed its primary course.
.
.
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SUCCESS!!1
His baby was born into the world, and he would nurture it for days (months? [years???]) to come. But little did he know, that the infamous ramagi was lurking through out the forums, prying for overdone, un-original topics, and the C&C section happened to be her favored hunting grounds.
All he could do was wait, and hope her wrath would not be unleash upon his new creation. At least, not today…
…
…
…
(to be continued…?)
Ok... some of these stories are ... interesting... but the sense you get from the words are pretty good, yet disturbing at the same time. Anyway, I am back to give yet another story. Hopefully, more will engage afterwards.
I had to wipe off my glasses constantly because of all the fog. It was a cold day... but I was sweating furiously and the heat caused the sweat underneath my eyes to fog my own glasses. Every breath I took, I savored, for it could have very well been my last. I was gripping the handle of my gun with such force, I was surprised I couldnt break the solid steel. My knuckles were whiter than pure snow that was painted white.
BOOM... I instantly covered my face with my arms, breathing even harder than before.
BOOM... This time, It came from the right side... I once again gasped for air as if I was under water.
BOOM... A mere two feet in front of me, a huge cloud of dirt and dust rocketed upward and back down. I cowered beneathed my arms and let out a small yelp. I had nothing... I knew my death was inevitable. But why die as a coward who is begging to go back home. That home is too far to comfort you at a time like this. I looked slightly above the mound... making sure my helmet was covered with dirt. I saw nothing.... at first. But, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a reflection of myself. Except, it was different, the person in this reflection had different facial features, different clothes, no glasses. The fear in his eyes were the exact same however. My enemy and I lock eyes, and we know what happens next. Both of us beg to be home... to not be involved, but its going to be his life or mine. I squeeze the trigger. The roaring sound of gunfire emerged from the rifle and into my ears. I closed my eyes. I continue to hold down that trigger. I can not see... I can only help. I let out a loud scream, more of a Roar rather than a scream. This scream wasnt for pain, but just to get my body pumped. Bullets were flying by my ears left and right. The distinct sound of near-death was all but too bearable. I let go of the trigger... and opened my eyes. My enemy was down on the ground, undoubtably dead.. I look down... and instead of seeing the color of my green uniform... all I can see is a dark crimsom red. I had been hit... several times.
It was over, I could see the bright light shining down upon me. The screams of fellow comrads became to a point as if they were on mute. I could hear no sounds at all... except one. It sounded like music. It was devine and welcoming. I could see in the sky... it was the angels. They were singing for me. The sound they produced were beyond words, it was as if I would never be sad again.
It was time...
Time to live, time to die.
Time to say goodbye, and time to say hello.
It was finally time to leave for good
and time to go home.
i'll try my hand at this.
So funny was it, that i was to perform instead of my friend, who was much better than me at singing. the bright lights had made me sweat, even when it wasn't my turn, my legs shook so much i could barely keep them up. i felt my nose running, but when i sniffed, nothing. even thought the audience was dark, my tall father was quite visible in all the darkness, i smiled, and i know, for i had the feeling, that he smiled back. i heard my music play and i began to sing, to my surprise, my voice rang out of my mouth like it had been stored there, waiting to get out, for the longest time. i hit every right note, never made an error, i even sounded like Elvis, the man who made the song. After finishing, every member of the audience stood up and gave me a standing ovation, my father, again, easy to point out. i had been happy that night, but i looked at the seat next to my father...i sighed, mother couldn't make it again.
The day at work was done, now there was time for Halo 2....logging on....*click on team skirmish matchmaking playlist* the game has started, the round starts of good with blue team advancing further into red team territory with the bomb in their hand. All the red's gathered in the base for the final defense, but quickly got over estimated as a blue guy sword whored them all, getting a kiltacular, telling the other to quickly come in and make haste, *The Bomb is Being Arm.......* suddenly it starts lagging, followed by a blue screen, after 10 seconds of oblivion the game came back to its original form, but there was something wrong... blue team were all dead, thus losing them the game BECAUSE OF SOME STANDBYING BASTARDS!
At 5/3/05 06:52 PM, BigLundi wrote: i'll try my hand at this.
So funny was it, that i was to perform instead of my friend, who was much better than me at singing. the bright lights had made me sweat, even when it wasn't my turn, my legs shook so much i could barely keep them up. i felt my nose running, but when i sniffed, nothing. even thought the audience was dark, my tall father was quite visible in all the darkness, i smiled, and i know, for i had the feeling, that he smiled back. i heard my music play and i began to sing, to my surprise, my voice rang out of my mouth like it had been stored there, waiting to get out, for the longest time. i hit every right note, never made an error, i even sounded like Elvis, the man who made the song. After finishing, every member of the audience stood up and gave me a standing ovation, my father, again, easy to point out. i had been happy that night, but i looked at the seat next to my father...i sighed, mother couldn't make it again.
Hey that was really excellent. Could have used more detail about the singing and how you felt about it, but other than that, it was pretty much flawless. I like how the story ended. I can relate to that, so that made it a lot better in my opinion (but it was usually the mom who came to my concerts and the Dad who couldnt make it). In any case, that was excellent. But again, I felt... a desire for more.
Anyway, great job, and thanks for your time.
I bring to you...
The First Stick Imagery:
there was a stick man. Along came another sitck man. They fought. TEH EDN!
I begin to take my pants off.. sexily. I do a little dance and then throw a smoke bomb down, appearing completely naked when the languid fog dissipates. You quiver with excitement as I perform the MC hammer dance closely followed by a naked headstand. You explode in delight, the fleshy chunks showering my naked form in a gorey red rain. The warm liquid flows down my body, I swiftly dress, silently and stealthily leave the compound and report back to my Master. "the target has been eliminatd, lord." I whisper reverently. "Excellent work, you sexy ninja bastard"
This seems to be a story thread so I decided to put down parts from one of my short stories in excepts since I can't put it all down at once. I was inspired to write this story three months ago because of the things I've seen and saw my friends get into that I couldn't stop. This story is about a person named Gabriel who is a pothead that has seen his freinds go through many hardships because of drugs. I named this story...
I'm So High
My name is Gabriel. I’m 17 years old and, I’ve smoked pot since I was thirteen. I’ve never taken crack cocaine, meth, E, Angel Dust, LSD, or any other kind of drug in my life but I know the downside to them though. If you have a problem with me being a pothead I strongly advise you now to get over it. What makes me different from any other smoker? Get on their nerves before you step on mine. I have three stories that I’d like to share with you. The first story is something I’d like to call “Fast Enough?” These stories involve friends of mine that decided to step out the fly as a kite zone into the purple haze of other drugs. I’ll get on with the first story. My good friend Jessica, was a pot user like myself and was a great student at my high school. She had a system. Her system was to get all of her homework done, pop by my house, get high as all get out, and have fun with her friends. She had been doing this for years and yet the weed never affected her. Her father was someone I detested with a great passion. He kept forcing her to be the best she could possibly be. With all that tension I can understand why she became a pothead like me. Senior year of high school we all had to go through the lame A.C.T.’s and SAT.’s once more. Jessica took her test last year and through all of our eyes we all agreed as her friends that it was really good, sadly it wasn’t good enough for her father. Her father yelled at her to do better, better than anyone else’s kid. Jessica was scared, she wanted to find an effective way to stay up at night and study for hours non-stop and get ready for the A.C.T.’s and SAT.’s. She had heard about a drug called speed. She met up with a user of the drug, and that user happened to be the fourth smartest person in school. That news shocked her. Knowing this, she willingly bought a huge quantity of the drug and began studying. For a week straight she studied and studied. Something was up, and I knew it. I visited her. I entered her room to find that she was still studying and was ecstatic and frantic. I looked and saw some Speed capsules by her computer. She lost weight, she hasn’t bathed in quite awhile, and her body was cold. I tried to pull her away from the drug and massive studying but she wouldn’t let me. After that frightful day I kept returning to her house trying to help her, sadly I couldn’t. Her grades began to drop a little. The funny thing about Speed is that when you’re on it, everything is great, excellent, and perfect. She didn’t realize that. The tests came and went and she got her results. She got what she had wanted but guess what? Her father was still not happy. I went to her house the next day and had found her father beating her. Screaming at her “Why can’t you do better?!” I ran into the house and punched out her father and said back to him “Why can’t you be a better father?!” I took Jessica back to my house and called the police. My family took her in shortly after that event. We had her stay downstairs in the basement. The news of her failure to please her father made her depressed, and the crash and withdrawal from the drug made her depressed. My friends and I got extra jobs to put her into a rehabilitation clinic. Just when we had enough money I rushed downstairs to tell her the good news, only to find a puddle of blood coming out of her wrists. My friends and I took her to the hospital immediately. I stayed in her room by her bedside all night. It was 6:56 A.M. and Jessica woke up. She was very weak. She told me that she was going to die. She knew it, and felt it. I began to cry in disbelieve to what she had said. She dried my tears and put my hand against her face. She looked towards me and said “I always loved you.” and then she passed away. She was my friend ever since kindergarten. I smoke now for two reasons. One, to get high, and the other reason was for reminiscing about the girl I never knew loved me more than a friend. She’ll always be with me in spirit.
Still original, creative & innovative, most known unknown.
I guess I'll throw my hat into this.
It was cold and dark outside, with a terrible snowstorm bearing down on my fairly sized one story cabin, with trees shivering, as you can tell when you see snow fall off their branches, and nature all around quiet. Although this terrible weather would make anyone feel as cold hearted as the weather outside, the Christmas season made it feel different, almost a pleasent welcome to beautify the beautifly decorated cabin.
The Christmas decorations were hung all over my small one story cabin, tinsel covering all of the doorways, the mini kitchen-ette littered with candy canes, Santa Claus jars and 2 tins of baked snowmen cookies on a counter with little chocolate chips going down their stomach, an orange piece of candy for their noses and two gumdrops for eyes. Inside the bedroom was filled with red ribbons on the walls, green and red covers on my small bed, a small carpet right in the middle, tot he right of the nightstand witch was on the left of the bed, and a small television with a figurine of an elf singing on top of it. Inside the living room was the most extravagent, with a warm roaring fire casting both light and warmth at the nearby furniture, stockings hanging on top of the fireplace with all sorts of names, the misletoe dangling alone, yet proud on the ceiling, ready to be used. The titanic christmas tree, a beautiful symbol of the beauty of the season, with ornaments of angels and elves, snowmen and reindeer, all signs of happiness and welcoming, along with the wrapped tinsel, the tempting bright red candy canes and the star sitting on top, watching it all. And here I am, laying on a couch, sipping from a cup of the warmest and richest cup of hot chocalate anyone could ever have, and with the puffiest marshmellows to boot. With a small, yet warm blanket on and a nearby radio lightly humming hymns of noel and good tidings toward men, I fall asleep, knowing it will be a merry Christmas.
"Eggplant tastes like eggplant....but meat tastes like murder and murder tastes pretty God damn good, doesn't it?"-Dennis Leary (No Cure for Cancer)
At 5/3/05 10:43 PM, Psycho_Crusher wrote: I guess I'll throw my hat into this.
Good, any stories or poems with imagery are always welcomed. I am always glad to see people participate in threads such as these... it makes you actually do work for your post... and think thouroughly before you actually post something.
With a small, yet warm blanket on and a nearby radio lightly humming hymns of noel and good tidings toward men, I fall asleep, knowing it will be a merry Christmas.
I must say... that was an excellent story. The imagery was absolutely compelling. It was very clear as to what you were staying all the time, and you gave an enormous amount of detail. If this were an animation, I would give a 5/5 for you. I love the ending line as well, extremely fitting. Thank you very much for contributing.
I shall throw another story at you guys... not sure if this is a story or a poem that doesnt rhyme. Anyway... here it is... (its sexy too!)
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She was gone...
The night before was so great... I didnt want it to end.
I dont know if it was the fact that we had intercourse on the beech,
Or, was it because this just might be the lady my dreams are about.
Her curves made me bite my lower lip ever so gently.
Her laugh made me practically faint.
Those eyes... its like an ocean of lust, that I cant help but drown in.
Everything about her made me smile.
I had planned this evening for the past week, making sure everything was perfect.
I picked out the beech because of the rippling sounds of the waves,
The gleaming reflections of the moonlight against the ocean tides,
The oh so distant ringing of the bouies (sp?) that added to the beauty.
She was walking ever so slowly towards me that night.
Her sexy walk put thoughts in my head.
Lucky for me, those thoughts would become a reality in a matter of hours.
She walked over to me, and placed her lucious lips onto mine, until they locked.
Her head facing slightly downward... and her eyes looking up into mine...
She said "Hi" and I smiled...
I said Hi back...
Thats when it started... the perfect night was underway.
We talked for hours... about anything and everything.
Whether what we talked about be sad, romantic, or sexual,
the conversation was continuous, and there were no awkward pauses.
After the talk, I reached my arm to the left, trying to grasp what I had placed there.
I said I had planned this for a week didnt I?
So naturally, that meant I had plenty of time to learn an extravogant recipe or two.
Her eyes opened up wide, as well as that smile once again.
She was so impressed as to what I had made... she couldnt resist any longer.
She took the food, put it back into the basket, and jumped on top of me.
I was forced to lie down flat on my back, while she positioned herself to "please" me.
She slowly pulled her shoulder straps off to the side with such an attractive look.
She was sitting straight up, her private area right against mine.
Her hips ever so gently started moving back and forth,
the movement was so arousing.
There was only one obsticle... our clothes.
We werent animals however... we didnt dare to rip off our clothes.
Only people who were interested in sex tend to rip off their clothes,
Its the people who are in love, who try to savour every ounce of time that they have.
We were in love, our clothes came off slowly.
Once I had "penetrated" her, we were off, never keeping our eyes off one anothers.
Its felt so pleasing, to the point where I started moving faster.
She giggled... and started moving even quicker.
Soon, it was like a race to the finish line.
Thirty to forty minutes later, we both had reached our climax.
It was a moment to truely enjoy.
Her body was still cuddled against mine.
We were both hot... too hot, we had to cool off.
Fortunately, we were on a beach.. so we went skinny dipping.
After cooling off, we went back and slept.
It was pure magic,
we both looked into our eyes until we fell asleep at the same time.
I woke up the next morning, and she was gone.
I looked around, the morning sun blinding me to see exactly where I was.
I started to get worried, thinking that she was only wanted sex...
While I was truely in love.
I fell onto my back again, with my hands on top of my head.
My eyes were closed, for the sun was so bright.
Even with my eyes closed however... I could still see the light coming through.
Suddenly... that light stopped, and it was completely dark.
I opened my eyes... and I saw that smile again.
She hadnt left... she was carrying a bag in her hand.
"What, did you think I would leave you?" She said, laughing as she did so.
I smiled... and replied "I love you."
It had been the first time I had ever said that to her...
I didnt know how she would respond, hopefully she doesnt take it the wrong way.
She smiled yet again and spoke the words I desperately wanted to hear...
"Not as much as I love you."
I love that smile.
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So, that was my thing... yea.. not sure if its a poem or a story. Either way, hopefully you guys got an image as to what I had pictured in my head. I appreciate your comments, and I shall post more eventually. Until then, thank you for your time.
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