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A Poem About WordsA Word on Words

I’ve never been very good with words.
I spend so much time searching for the right ones,
For that one perfect phrase to describe a feeling.
Slippery as a sunfish it incessantly escapes me,
Or gets hooked upon my lip.

It’s difficult to say what I mean,
Let alone mean what I say.
And words make it so much harder;
Ineffectual, impersonal and imprecise as they are.

I might say I love a steaming pot of tea in the morning,
Or a big cozy sweater on a winter’s day.
But sweaters and tea don’t quite add up to how I feel about you.

You might say a rose is pretty,
Or a sunset.
But I am hardly a flower or a sink

Men"Men don't write things!
Men kill wild boar and the blood splatter spells out what they want to say!
Men don't even own computers!
They live in lavishly decorated caves and eat raw meat while smoking cigars and playing guitars and are constantly walking away from explosions without looking back.
Real men work out by strangling nazis and saving orphans, kittens and women from various threats.
They also all fly jets in their spare time and go skydiving without a parachute, surviving the fall every time by punching death in the face, thus coming away unharmed.
Men never speak.
They communicate purely through fist fights."
Was talking to a friend about what a man is.
Sometimes I laugh at my own jokes.
This was one of those times.
Thought I'd share.

What Have I BecomeThey say just to let the emotions flow,
Is the secret of poetry,
The art within the writing of words,
Of placing the letters, carefully,
Not to be shy of filling the blanks,
Just defining what you know,
To use your feelings,
And to decorate the sheets,
But how can I write,
When all I feel,
Was ripped away,
By a force that I cannot describe?
When my core is a void,
And I cannot avoid,
Feeling nothing at all...
How am I supposed to choose,
The words that used to come,
By night, my quiet saviours,
Now lost within my soul,
Empty eyes,
Roaming the sky,
Searching for...
For this feeling of inspiration,
That I once cursed,
But was blessed with,
Now

Bracelet projectThe Bracelet Project.
Each disorder has a color that corresponds to it.
Schizophrenia is Gold
Bipolar/mood disorder is Silver
Anorexia is Red.
Bulimia is Purple.
EDNOS is Pink.
Depression is blue.
Self harm is Orange or Black.
Fasting at the time is Green.
Suicidal is Yellow.
Overweight/Obese is Turquoise.
Anxiety/Panic disorder/OCD is Teal.
Adding 1 white bead means you're trying to recover.
If your bracelet is half of the color that your disease is and half white it means you're in recovery.
You can also make the strand the main disorder you have then add beads to your lesser disorders, or if you have EDNOS, if you have more anorexic or bulimic tendencies then you can add a red or purple bead.
If you see a girl in public wearing one, you are supposed to make eye contact and point to your bracelet. If she nods then you know she is part of the bracelet project.
Spread awareness about the bracelet project.
***Quoted from Tumbler: http://thatpunkdrummerchick.tumblr.com/post/27398380436/t

PersolusI’ve been alone for a very long time. I’m not quite sure who I am – identity is such a fickle thing, especially when you have no one to prove it to. Sometimes I remember things from before the fall. I remember what I’m called – Persolus with a “p” – but I don’t recall ever hearing it spoken. I can remember hands but not faces and lips but not words. All the people disappeared a long time ago.
I don’t think it’s a bad thing by any means; the suffocating warmth of other people was replaced with the crisp chill of time spent alone - and that’s how I’ve always pref

Night Windows !!PLEASE READ AND CRIT!!Night Windows

Wake up.  Lie in bed.  Stare at the ceiling.  A crack runs across the center of it – spider webs decorate the edges.  I should fix that sometime.
The clock ticks.  It wants me to move, it wants me to go.  It whispers in my ear – it reminds me of you.  Its breath doesn't tickle my cheek the way yours used to, though.
Tick, tick, tick.
Get up, you're lazy, get going.
Out of bed.  Two tooth brushes – blue and pink.  Take the pink one.  Brush my teeth.  Spit.  Look

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Submitted: November 28, 2012
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Scene From Magsby ~tribble-of-doom

Literature / Scripts & Screenplays / Skits & Sketches / Drama

©2012-2013 ~tribble-of-doom

Yo, critique would be wonderful! Had to write a short scene and a treatment for screenwriting class, any suggestions greatly appreciated <3

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~TuVaisDeVela Nov 30, 2012 Hobbyist Digital Artist

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~Panthera--Shadow Nov 29, 2012 Student General Artist

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~CloudyTheWolf Nov 28, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Love it, your descriptions are amazing and the entire screenwrite is wonderful to read.

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=VajikTheChimera Nov 28, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Wow, that's a really good screenwrite! I can feel the emotion from both Maggie and Jack. Your writing style is really good, and I love the way you describe things.

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~Flameclaw101 Nov 28, 2012

Coolio! Great job Tribble!

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~21kittyluver Nov 28, 2012 Hobbyist Artist

I love it!

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~Jayfeather34 Nov 28, 2012 Hobbyist Digital Artist

Your first name is Madeleine!!! One of my BEST FRIENDS in school has the name Madeleine. Everyone calls her Maddy though. Coincidence? I think not

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~Jayfeather34 Nov 28, 2012 Hobbyist Digital Artist

Awesome by the way

sorry I got side tracked by your wonderful name!!!

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Mood: Eye Candy

~MagTehPapillon Nov 28, 2012 Student Traditional Artist

My name is Maggie- and my brothers name is Jack... Whoa. o.o

Love it though Tribbs! ^^

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