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Can't finish the job....
I was writing this morning, but I was talking to my friend Andy at the same time. It was kinda weird because I was in the mood to write, and then it like, went away. Anyway. I wrote a paragraph and a half from Lanif's view that takes place after everything that's happened so far. Here is that:
Lanif was lying on the overstuffed chair of his living room. The apartment was sparsely decorated, but the furniture was comfortable, if not old. Lanif’s mother had made sure of that before she died. Sometimes Lanif felt like all he had to remember her by was the furniture he sat on and some random objects still left in the apartment. Losing her had been like losing both parents, because ever since then, he rarely saw his father, who spent his time working and spending all his money on drinking. He would come home between two and six in the morning, if he came home at all.
Charlotte had woken up about and hour after Timria had left. She left too, saying she would see Lanif soon. He wasn’t sure how they would meet again, because they hadn’t arranged anything, but Charlotte didn’t seem very….normal to him. Well, she shouldn’t. After all, she had healed that guy with her hands and some white light, hadn’t she? That’s crazy, she couldn’t have. And yet, Lanif knew she had, even though it was impossible. It was late, but Lanif didn’t plan on trying to sleep any time soon. Images and feelings kept replaying themselves in his head and he was powerless to stop it.
I like the first paragraph more than the second. The second one doesn't make much sense....I'll have to develop this further because the only thing I have in mind of writing to progress the story is some characterization of Lanif, so that's basically what this is. And then I started writing a poem, but didn't really finish it, or maybe I did...it's poetry, so it's never finished. The 'you' I refer to isn't anyone specific, just kind of a general person.
Sometimes when I talk to you,
I can feel my chest open and bleeding.
But you don’t notice.
feels like I can’t swallow properly
feels like I’m cold even though
it’s warm in here
Crying should make me feel better,
but it never does any more.
I guess it’s not much of a release
when it’s all you ever want to do.
Lanif was lying on the overstuffed chair of his living room. The apartment was sparsely decorated, but the furniture was comfortable, if not old. Lanif’s mother had made sure of that before she died. Sometimes Lanif felt like all he had to remember her by was the furniture he sat on and some random objects still left in the apartment. Losing her had been like losing both parents, because ever since then, he rarely saw his father, who spent his time working and spending all his money on drinking. He would come home between two and six in the morning, if he came home at all.
Charlotte had woken up about and hour after Timria had left. She left too, saying she would see Lanif soon. He wasn’t sure how they would meet again, because they hadn’t arranged anything, but Charlotte didn’t seem very….normal to him. Well, she shouldn’t. After all, she had healed that guy with her hands and some white light, hadn’t she? That’s crazy, she couldn’t have. And yet, Lanif knew she had, even though it was impossible. It was late, but Lanif didn’t plan on trying to sleep any time soon. Images and feelings kept replaying themselves in his head and he was powerless to stop it.
I like the first paragraph more than the second. The second one doesn't make much sense....I'll have to develop this further because the only thing I have in mind of writing to progress the story is some characterization of Lanif, so that's basically what this is. And then I started writing a poem, but didn't really finish it, or maybe I did...it's poetry, so it's never finished. The 'you' I refer to isn't anyone specific, just kind of a general person.
Sometimes when I talk to you,
I can feel my chest open and bleeding.
But you don’t notice.
feels like I can’t swallow properly
feels like I’m cold even though
it’s warm in here
Crying should make me feel better,
but it never does any more.
I guess it’s not much of a release
when it’s all you ever want to do.