All posts by plutorawr

Just someone blogging to try to cope and manage anxiety and to reach other people and communicate! Thank you. I would also like to put here, as is in one of my posts, all pictures in my posts, besides the header used in the default blog design, are taken and edited by me and I ask you don't use them without my permission. I know not everyone will listen so, if you do, please at least credit this blog for them. Thank you.

Lost

Many years ago I knew a young lady. Her name was Hazel Moss. Her and I would joke countless hours about how her name pretty much described moss. She would argue that it was creative. I would argue that her parents were drugged up hippies when she was born. She never argued with the latter.

Hazel loved to take walks. She’d walk in the woods. Walk around the lake. She’d walk anywhere as long as she could take the camera I gave her for her birthday with her. She loved taking pictures as much as she loved walks. She would give me her camera and ask me to develop her favorites.

Hazel didn’t have a job.  She said that working with people brought her down and exhausted her soul. She preferred to be in nature. Whenever we met we would meet in the abandoned shack in the woods that she called home. She frequented the free boxes at yard sales. All of her furniture, decorations, and necessities came from yard sales with the exception of her pictures. She hung her pictures everywhere. She said they made her feel like she was in different places at once. Like she could fly.

For many years Hazel lived in that shack. She loved it and maintained it as well as you could for a jobless person who lived in an abandoned shack. One day a few drunk teenagers came across Hazel’s shack while she was taking a walk in the woods with her camera. They kicked her furniture. They tore down her sheets, and smashed her ceramics. They peed on her bed and poured gas on her clothes. Maybe this could have all been forgiven. Maybe if they had left after all that I wouldn’t be writing this story. Unfortunately maybes have yet to turn back time. They burned her pictures. They took each one and torched it in the flame of a lighter. Such a small flame and yet, it did such damage. After all her pictures were a pile of charred ash and only a few colorful corners remained, they burnt down the rest of the shack. The wood charred and discarded on the forest floor. I don’t know Hazel’s reaction to this. I don’t know what she did when she came back and witnessed what had become of her beloved home and her treasured pictures. She might have cried and cried. The wailing mixing with the birdsong. She might have yelled and threw whatever was left until her throat was sore. Knowing Hazel I find it most likely that she sat on the forest floor. Quiet for a very very long time.

I do however know what she did next. You see I know what happened to the shack because it was in the news the next morning. I was sitting there with my morning coffee and a cucumber sandwich halfway to my mouth when the story flashed across the screen. It was in that same news story that showed my darling Hazel, laying at the bottom of a cliff off of highway 10. She had jumped, of course, because she would never had ridden in a car. Besides there were no other debris besides her fragile body, now broken.  She was in a better place now I suppose. One positive thought to brighten the pain and sorrow that I felt. At the very end my darling Hazel had learned how to fly.

*************************************************************************************

So first let me say that this story is entirely fiction and made up. The names are made up, the highway is made up. Even the cucumber sandwich is made up as I’ve never had one in my life. This started as a story to a picture writing prompt that showed only some bare wooden trees. I started out with a very different idea but I definitely like this one better. Please let me know what you think! Thank you very much.

Advertisements

First Line Generator

So I used a first line generator which generated part of a first line for me this time. Hopefully you all like this short story. Please leave me some feedback below and thank you for reading. As always, have a good night.

*************************************************************************************

The pen hadn’t been worth stealing but there it had been. Sitting on his shiny desk. Seeming like it was mocking her and her dusty desk. Her office that used to be a closet. That was haphazardly put together when there had been nowhere else to put her. It had no mouth but the new, shiny pen spoke volumes. Volumes about where he was in the company. Where she hoped to get to but so many people doubted she would. And then there was the other side. The other reason she had slipped the pen into her pocket. It had been easy of course. He was at another meeting, another luncheon with the heads of the company. Things she was never invited to.

She admired him, as much as it pained her to admit it. Admired the way he walked as if walking on clouds. With such a strong air of confidence it couldn’t be missed, even in this busy office building. She could sense when he walked into a room. Almost as if an invisible line were connecting them and she could tell when that line was tugged. It horrified her but she even suspected she was gaining feelings for him. The way she looked up when he walked by. How she straightened her skirt when he walked into the room. The agonizing time she was spending on her hair and makeup lately when she had never cared for makeup before. She was changing herself for a guy who didn’t even know her name. A part of her hoped he’d notice the pen missing. That he’d look for it, attempt to find it. Maybe she could pretend to have found it and return his pen to him. Or, maybe she would be daring, maybe she’d use the pen right in front of him. Maybe then he’d notice the frumpy clerk across the hall. The on who was always looking at him when he was on the phone. Talking and laughing with his clients as if they had known each other for years. Maybe, like for her, the room would be in a blur except for her and he’d see her clearly.

She went to bed that night with the pen in her purse. Wistful thoughts filling her head about how she’d return the pen. How they would strike up a conversation and it would begin his realization that they were meant to be. That them working in the same office was fate and he had just been blind before. Maybe he’d open his eyes and realize that she was his dream girl. She drifted off with these thoughts in her head.

The next day she took extra care picking out her outfit. Sleek black pencil skirt and royal blue blouse. The only one that had golden buttons on the sleeves. She slipped on her black pumps and her pearl necklace. Her hair was up in a bun and her makeup was applied with utmost precision. She arrived at the office early, hoping to catch him before another luncheon took him for the rest of the day. Maybe, after their encounter, he’d even cancel lunch to spend longer with her. As she entered the office however her spirits dropped. There, on his shiny desk, was an identical, brand new, shiny pen sitting exactly where the old one had been. The stolen pen had been forgetting and, with it, her wistful dreams.

*************************************************************************************

Anxiety and Driving

So, let’s get straight to the subject of this post:driving. Does anyone else have serious driving anxiety? I am aware this isn’t restricted solely to people who have anxiety but sometimes mine goes a little over the norm. I frequently find myself taking a dirt road that probably isn’t great for the vehicle just to avoid the traffic on the hard road. I put my blinker on prematurely for the fear of getting rear ended when the driver doesn’t realize I’m turning. I’ve had my license for almost 3 years now and I still won’t drive on the highway. The actual speed doesn’t worry me. It’s other people driving that scares me. I have no idea what they’re going to do, you know? I don’t know, let me know if you have the same problem. I know this was a shorter post but it’s earlier in the day than I usually post so there will probably be another post later (with pictures!) and a poem or short story as well. Keep looking and as always, have a great day!

The Sun Is Failing

So I decided to follow a writing prompt generator found here:https://thestoryshack.com/tools/writing-prompt-generator/.

Below is my writing prompt details that I was given and under that will be my story. Thank you and I hope you enjoy it!

  •  Word count: 550
  •  Genre: Fairy Tale
  •  Character: A repairman
  •  Material: A mysterious liquid
  •  Sentence: “You will take the fall for this.”
  •  Bonus: The Sun is failing.

 

The Sun is Failing:

It had been a long hard day at the workshop. Leprechauns kept paying him in fake gold for their expensive repairs and he couldn’t ban Leprechauns from his shop because of that blasted Fair Creatures Act of 2200.  Jack started his walk home after work and tried not to think about tomorrow when he’d have to explain for the fiftieth time that, no he wasn’t THAT Jack, and he didn’t have any idea why the beanstalk had popped up in the middle of town and if magic beans were to blame. He was fine with magical creatures, fairy tales, and even the bubble gum river some amateur wizard has created in his backyard. Lately though, everything seemed to be getting out of hand. The centaurs wouldn’t come out of the woods and the fairies were tired of low flying vehicles getting in their way. It was enough to drive any human crazy. Finally home Jack settled in with his modest dinner of bean soup and turned on the news. The beautiful blue sprite that Jack always rushed home to see was already done with her news and had switched over to Temple, the elderly gnome who hated his job. Jack just caught the end of his news story.

“…Well folks, it seems as if the sun IS indeed failing. The city council assures us it has their best people on the job but so far, nothing seems to be working. Back to you Sunder.”

Jack barely even paid attention as the blue sprite came back onto the tv to talk about the unicorn showing. The sun was failing? How could that be? In the millions and millions of years the Earth had existed, the sun had never failed. Why now? Shaking his head and wondering what the world was coming to, Jack washed his bowl and went up to bed.

The next day was even weirder for Jack. Sure no one asked him about any beanstalks which was a definite improvement but all anyone could talk about was the sun. He heard countless theories from his customers about what the cause could be but they all seemed as unlikely as the last. The Alien community had been peaceful for a century now and vampires had declared their annual slumber weeks ago. All the usual culprits of big crimes were in the underground lockup and, with the new dragons in place and the trolls finally armed, they weren’t likely to escape.

It wasn’t until well after lunch when Jack heard something that caused him to take pause and listen. Two old hags were walking past when he overheard their conversation.

“I heard it was that beanstalk that popped up in the middle of town. The thing is so high that its poking into the sun, and there’s a mysterious green liquid that’s been pouring down the beanstalk” , said the hag with the crow hat.

“I don’t know, there hasn’t been a beanstalk that size in ages”, exclaimed the other as they walked away.

Jack sat as his workbench pondering this for a moment. Could the beanstalk have something to do with the sun failing? It seemed unlikely a beanstalk would reach that high and even if it had, wouldn’t it just catch fire? He shook his head and started packing up his tools for the day. He decided it was time to have a talk with Kiwi, his old friend.

Walking downtown always made Jack feel a little uneasy. Sure the Orcs hadn’t attacked recently and the relations between Orcs and humans were getting better, but humans still weren’t that welcome in the downtown area. Here the Fair Creatures Act had been ignored but humans were targeted with buildings everywhere bearing signs that read, “No Admittance to Humans.”

Finally getting to the old brick building, Jack knocked on the wooden door until he heard steps. Finally the door was opened to reveal Kiwi, an elderly elf who had become a hermit in his later years. He was one of Jack’s only non-human friends after they worked together in a factory for many years.

“Jack! It’s so good to see you! What brings you to these parts?”

“Hello Kiwi! I wanted a word, might I come in?”

“Of course, of course. Come right in!”

Jack followed Kiwi in and shut the door behind him. The room had dirt and grass on the floor with plants growing in every spare place they could be put. Kiwi was a wood elf and filled his home with the forest wherever he could.

“So Jack, what did you come to talk about? I haven’t seen you in ages!” exclaimed  Kiwi.

“It has been quite a while with work and the Leprechauns are back at their old tricks during this season. Actually I came to talk about the news recently Kiwi, the sun is failing!”, Jack said, surprised Kiwi didn’t know.

“No! I hadn’t heard without tv, and you know I’m not much for visitors. Do they know what’s causing it?” inquired Kiwi.

“Well everyone has their speculations, but no one knows for sure. I heard an interesting bit of conversion today though that has me thinking. Two old hags were walking and discussing that maybe it was the beanstalk that sprung up in town recently. No one knows where it came from and I thought perhaps with your knowledge of them…I know you’re reluctant to talk about when you dealt in beans but, it could be of some use. Can they really grow that tall Kiwi?” Asked Jack, still in shock over the rumored height.

Kiwi was quiet for some time, as he didn’t like to talk about his life before moving to the city and settling down. Finally he nodded slowly as if deciding he best impart some wisdom.

“Yes Jack, they can indeed grow that tall. Taller even. One was rumored to reach the heavens in the olden days. I suppose it is entirely possible one is causing issues with the sun. They are flame-proof you know, and grow very well in bright light. The sun has been flickering as of late. I suppose I should have known the rumors, even here in the dregs of town, had some truth to them.”

“Wow”, whistled Jack, “flame proof…are they indestructible Kiwi?” he mused.

“No, no nothing like that. They can be chopped down just like any ordinary tree. The bean juice that they’re filled with keeps them safe from flame since they flourish in bright lights.”

After this Kiwi was silent for a while. Finally he looked at Jack with calculating eyes.

“We both know who your great great grandfather was Jack, but you don’t have anything you must live up to. I’ve never said a word and no one even knows your family existed in anything but a fairy tale. Beanstalks are dangerous. Not the stalk itself but what it can draw to the town and to the one who destroys the beanstalk. You know the giants have never signed the peace treaty and wherever there is a beanstalk a giant is far from trouble. Please don’t go looking for trouble Jack.” pleaded Kiwi.

“No I suppose I shouldn’t.” mused Jack. Though even then he was considering how hard it could be to cut down a beanstalk. He could win the town’s affection, charge better rates. Move out of his rickety shack of a home. Kiwi must have seen the look in Jack’s eyes because he said next, in a warning tone.

“Your great great grandfather may have saved the town Jack, but he’s also the one who planted the magic beans in the first place and brought them to this world. DON’T get involved Jack, you will take the fall for this whole situation if you do.”

Jack nodded his head in agreement and headed off back home. He was sure Kiwi was right. Getting involved would do more harm than good and really there were plenty of other young men who could cut down a beanstalk. Still, he wondered as he neared his home, it would be nice to afford a new cow.

*****THE END*****

************************************************************************************

Well I went over my word limit lol. I decided not to completely finish the story with the sun getting fixed. I like the allude to the cow in the original fairy tale and I think I like this ending. If you really want me to make a part 2 let me know in the comments section! I hope no one was too bored with the long dialogue. I’m more used to writing poetry and I’m still struggling with short stories a bit. Look for more to come and thank you again for reading!

Some changes and some notes

Hello everyone!

I am going to probably post a short story tonight but this is just a maintenance post about the blog. I have added a menu to my blog but I wasn’t sure how to really add posts to pages and take them off the home page. To basically have certain pages for different themed things like one for poems/stories, one for thoughts etc. So as of right now I’m going to be adding my short stories and poems to the menu bar until/if I can find a better way to organize that. The dog in the header is my beautiful dog. Again not giving away a name for privacy purposes. Another note is that I am going to try to add a post every day. If I don’t I tend to get offtrack and forget to post and then it turns into me not posting for a month and a half. You will only see all my posts if you follow :p.

That’s about it for this maintenance post, keep an eye out for my short story which I will either post tonight or sometime tomorrow before my daily post. I’m also thinking about doing some contest thing where I have a writing contest and whoever wins gets their blog featured in one of my posts etc. Really not sure and I don’t have enough followers for that right now so stay tuned! Have a wonderful night.

Late Anxious Nights

So here I am at 1:12am after a long day of work, writing my 3rd post for the night because not only can I not sleep, but I don’t really want to. Does anyone else with anxiety or depression stay up late doing things because when you lay down to go to sleep, all the thoughts in your head come out and you can’t get your brain to calm down long enough to fall asleep and you end up either crying yourself to sleep or worrying yourself into a restless sleep? I’ve had both occur so sometimes staying up and writing or playing on my phone until I’m so tired that I just pass out seems like the better option. It definitely doesn’t help with my sleep schedule but it helps with my sanity not staying up late and letting my anxiety come up with new things to worry about. (might write a poem about this soon so look for that.)

I’m going to shut off my laptop and play games on my phone until I fall asleep but just a short thought I had before bed. As always let me know what you think in the comments and have a good night/day. Thank you.

The planet was her spouse.

She awoke, at what time she wasn’t sure. She floated to look out the window of the spacecraft. There it was, spinning slowly and gracefully, huge and blue, with stripes of grey. One lone teal ring orbiting around the planet. She admired it for a few moments more before heading to the small kitchen for a coffee.

As usual the coffee was stale and the air had the same filtered and artificial quality to it that it always did. She went back to the middle of the cabin and got her helmet on before proceeding to the spacecraft door. She waited in the chamber for the cabin to pressurize before exiting into outer space, her suit attached to the spacecraft. She floated as close as she could safely get to the planet. Gazing with love and admiration. It was 2080 on Planet Earth and they had become so progressive that you could marry anything you wanted basically. Even if it was already married, or not even alive. She had married this planet. It was 20 years ago now that she had become an astronaut and taken her first trip to outer space. As they went through their mission and were heading home, they had passed her planet. It was love instantly. The colors spinning on the surface, the wind gliding in the planet’s orbit. So she had gotten married to it and now she spent several weeks up here every year. She would love to spend more time up here but unfortunately it was too dangerous for the human body to be up in space for that long. Last time she had stayed a week past when she was supposed to come back and was threatened with losing her traveling privileges. She could visit more if she lived on Mars with the rest of her family, but she loved the natural air and green grass on Earth and the crisp ocean water on her skin.

As the spacecraft drew around the planet she turned on the gravity in the cabin, took off her clothes and laid in front of the window. Craving some personal time with her spouse before she had to head back to Earth tomorrow. The planet where she would never truly feel at home.

*************************************************************************************

I’m in a writing kind of mood today so I went on a writing prompt generator and the writing prompt was the same as the title of this post “The planet was her spouse.”

Let me know what you think and if you’ve written any short stories that you’d like me to read please let me know. Thank you!

 

 

 

I didn’t have time for suicide

This is in fact a poem, I like to write poetry, another one of my coping mechanisms and this is one that I wrote today. Not one of my better poems but it was how I was feeling. I hope you all like it. Please comment and follow if you want to see more. Thank you.

 

I didn’t have time to kill myself today

The laundry wasn’t done

The dishes weren’t clean.

I could have done it after lunch,

But I had to mop the floor

and there was too much dust to ignore.

I had to go to the grocery store,

and the checkout line, was out the door.

I could have done it when I got home,

But on my way, I had to answer the phone.

After the phone call and dishes and tea,

There was no more time to kill the other me.

So I went to bed and pull up the sheets,

Maybe tomorrow I thought, as I fell asleep.

*************************************************************************************

 

So I didn’t write this to glamorize suicide or anything like that. I wrote it with the message in mind that the chores and all the things I have to do in a day are sometimes the only things I have to hold onto when the depression kicks in. Sometimes when you’re feeling suicidal and down and alone, you look for the slightest thing, anything, in your life to keep you moving, to hold onto when you feel like everything is slipping away and it’s not worth it anymore. So something as small as chores can get you through this bump in the road. I’d really like to know what you all thought of it, thank you and please comment and follow if you’d like to see more from me!

 

 

A new start

So, as you know from a couple posts back, I decided to stop doing SFI. Along with at I went through and deleted all of my posts from doing SFI. I want to take a new direction with this blog and make it more personal and more a discussion type of thing.

Another reason I decided to get rid of the older posts is because they link to my SFI page which has a picture of me on there as well as some private information. Some of my posts on this blog are going to be a more personal nature and talk about sensitive topics and I’d rather remain anonymous. I’m always here to talk and have a discussion but would rather not share any personal details about myself. There is, however, an exception to that. I have decided that if I get a significant amount of followers from this I will switch to video blogging and post my videos on YouTube as well as on here. I don’t expect that to happen soon, if ever, so for now I will be leaving this anonymous.

Now, on to the actual content of this post: anxiety. I suffer from really bad anxiety (undiagnosed) and depression (also undiagnosed) Sometimes I have a hard time coping and convincing myself everything is going to be ok and other days i’m fine and everything is sunshine and rainbows. I overthink almost everything people say to me and around me, I reread text messages that I send and that people send to me multiple times to make sure it sounds ok and I will usually find a hidden meaning in them that’s not actually there. I panic about the smallest things like going to a friend’s house or asking someone a simple question.

As for the depression part, I have cut in the past. Thankfully it’s been a long time. I feel emotions very deeply, especially love and sadness. Sometimes I find myself deeply upset and crying for no apparent reason. I cry myself to sleep more often than I let people know and I have days where I would prefer to sleep the day away and not get out of bed. I would also like to say that as someone who has cut, it is not romantic or “beautiful” and should not be glorified in anyway, shape or form. I’m not shaming those who do it or have done because I can relate but in my personal experience I didn’t do it so people would see my scars and pity me and feel sympathy for me. I did it because at the time  the pain from cutting wasn’t as bad as the emotional pain I was feeling and it was a sort of release. Luckily I have found better ways to cope since then such as reading, doing this blog, bubble baths, and listening to music. Sometimes exercise when I get really bored.

I find that something I really struggle with is being able to talk to people about how I’m feeling without it being medically diagnosed by a professional. I commend people who are going through these problems and struggles and who seek professional help and are getting the help that they need. I can neither afford professional help, nor do I want it. I don’t fancy the idea of taking medicines that will make me feel numb or nothing at all and as for talking to people I have my amazingly supportive boyfriend and all of you. However, sometimes people don’t take me seriously when I say I’m anxious or depressed. Yes I may not be CLINICALLY depressed or anxious but I know on some level the emotions I’m feeling and the way I’m thinking aren’t normal and I don’t feel that that should make my struggle any less concrete and important.

For society’s and simplicity’s sake I usually just say I’m feeling anxious or unusually upset when I talk about my feelings and I suppose I will do that through these as well. Please comment below about ways you find to cope even if it’s not with anxiety or depression but with any struggles and obstacles you may have and please NO negative comments. This is a safe space for open discussion and support. You are entitled to your opinions but DON’T be rude!

I am going to say goodnight for now and just share a song below that I heard for the first time today that I really relate to and explains how I feel and I hope it will help and comfort some of you as well!

 

PS-any pictures that I share in my posts have been taken and edited by me if they were edited. Please do not redistribute or use them without my permission. If you choose to ignore this then please at least credit this blog if you use them. Thank you!