Young Writers Society

This type of insanity is new to me, incomprehensible. The light dances off ofhis crystal eyes. Awareness is crowned as one of the scariest experiences.<<I love this sentence. Certain conversations have rooted themselves into my mind until they’ve reached the center, shadowing all other memories. It becomes hard to remember what I was before… before I became aware of him. His words taught? do you mean taunt? Taught doesn't make sense to me. me in my head, “My mom wanted me to kiss the Asian at Prom.” They tease the jar of butterflies I thought I had industrially sealed inside my stomach, cracking the glass until a slow trickle of fluttering beasts emergesIt should just be emerge. from their icy prison. Feelings I didn’t know I had come to the surface, and I begin to live inside a horrific nightmare. What is this nonsense? Was he beautiful? He’s him, my friend. I observe him as the days go by, wishing I could understand what was going on. The light brushes against his blonde hair, creating faint gold highlights. He doesn’t speak to me or answer the questions I haven’t askedThis sentence doesn't make sense.. Instead, he hides behind his blue pillow. Everything on the yellow bus fades, and my curiosity ignites. He looks adorable cuddled against his pillow and even cuter with his glasses on the night before, snuggled inside his cocoon reading on his computer for the competition. It reminded me of being at a campfire and it made me feel warm. My motto is to ignore your problems and allow them to fade away, but I’m not sure if I can black out this information with my life pen… I am aware.

crescent wrote:This type of insanity is new to me insert semi-colon here incomprehensible. The light dances off his crystal eyes. Awareness is crowned as one of the scariest experiences. You jumped from describing this guy to talking about awareness. Try to stay on one topic and then transistions into the next. Certain conversations have rooted themselves into my mind until they’ve reached the center, shadowing all other memories. It becomes hard to remember what I was before… before I became aware of him. His words taunt me in my head, “My mom wanted me to kiss the Asian at Prom.” They tease the jar of butterflies I thought I had industrially sealed inside my stomach, cracking the glass until a slow trickle of fluttering beasts emerges from their icy prison. Wow, this last sentence is really great! You used seom nice imagery. Feelings I didn’t know I had come to the surface, and I begin to live inside a horrific nightmare. What is this nonsense? Was he beautiful? He’s him, my friend. I observe him as the days go by, wishing I could understand what was going on. The light brushes against his blonde hair, creating faint gold highlights. He doesn’t speak to me or answer the questions I haven’t asked. Instead, he hides behind his blue pillow. Everything on the yellow bus fades, and my curiosity ignites. He looks adorable cuddled against his pillow and even cuter with his glasses on the night before, snuggled inside his cocoon reading on his computer for the competition. It reminded me of being at a campfire and it made me feel warm. My motto is to ignore your problems and allow them to fade away, but I’m not sure if I can black out this information with my life pen… I am aware.