Baxter
09-01-2011, 07:14 AM
This is my first piece on the forum. I was encouraged to post it in this section too, so here it is!
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The sky darkens as if ink's been spilled somewhere on the horizon opposite the setting sun. I look at her and she smiles at the sky and for an instant I feel like I know her like no one else ever could, which I assume cannot be true because I just met the girl, but that's the way I feel, and I suppose it's not impossible.
Anything's possible. Anything that humankind puts the mind to can be achieved. I realize this as I stare at the full moon and remember somebody walked there; somebody's boot touched that. It's beautiful. Truly anything can be achieved. I look at her. Right now she is (this) man's biggest challenge.
Wait a second: is this love? If this is love, then what did I feel all those times that I thought I felt love - like? She's still staring at the sky and I conclude that whatever I'm feeling, she is not. It's probably love. And if it turns out to be unrequited love, that's still love, and I felt it. It's beautiful.
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Here's an experiment: I started thinking about how different writing could sound when read by different people, so I recorded me reading this short piece. Read it yourself, type what you think, listen to it, write more, and then post your thoughts. http://soundcloud.com/baxter-4/its-beautiful
__________________________________________________ ______________
The sky darkens as if ink's been spilled somewhere on the horizon opposite the setting sun. I look at her and she smiles at the sky and for an instant I feel like I know her like no one else ever could, which I assume cannot be true because I just met the girl, but that's the way I feel, and I suppose it's not impossible.
Anything's possible. Anything that humankind puts the mind to can be achieved. I realize this as I stare at the full moon and remember somebody walked there; somebody's boot touched that. It's beautiful. Truly anything can be achieved. I look at her. Right now she is (this) man's biggest challenge.
Wait a second: is this love? If this is love, then what did I feel all those times that I thought I felt love - like? She's still staring at the sky and I conclude that whatever I'm feeling, she is not. It's probably love. And if it turns out to be unrequited love, that's still love, and I felt it. It's beautiful.
__________________________________________________ _______________
Here's an experiment: I started thinking about how different writing could sound when read by different people, so I recorded me reading this short piece. Read it yourself, type what you think, listen to it, write more, and then post your thoughts. http://soundcloud.com/baxter-4/its-beautiful