diren's philtatos

What I read ... If I Was Your Girl by Meredith Russo - This book was quite important to me as it is the first novel I read following a trans character. I think the majority of the book failed to adequately portray the issue it promised to handle. Most of it could be read as just an ordinary high-school finding-yourself romance with one character having a huge secret. I have read many coming out fanfictions which basically had an identical outline. But I really appreciated Amanda's flashbacks and her experiences in her old life. I didn't love Grant and her but I guess they were alright. My favourite character by far was Bee - SPOILER ALERT - (... until the author made her a total bitch and let's be honest that character development made no sense and was just unnecessary. Also, would it have been so bad to have a friendship between two females where the bisexual one doesn't fall in love with the other? I had appreciated their friendship so much and kind of felt betray...

Prompt: What is your favourite word? Write a scene around that word. Sophia had been building a rocket in her backyard for more than three months now. And tonight would be the night where she finally finished her masterpiece - she had checked and double-checked if all the safety measures were in place and if she had taken enough of her favourite chocolate with her. Just looking at her work made her giggle like a maniac so she lay down on the grass to calm down again. Above her head the stars shone in all their beauty. Sophia reached her hands out into the night, longing for the stars but never getting there. »Tonight,« a voice inside of her whispered. »Tonight, tonight.« Before getting inside her rocket, Sophia stood up and had one last look around. The old treehouse her father had built when she had been a child, the never-ending fields in the back, their neighbour's car in which she had puked when she had been nine years old. Sophia had always thought this would be harder, bu...

What is Black Out Poetry? ::: Novel I used for these ... The Book of Tomorrow by Cecelia Ahern. #1 Can't Deny They say this story wasn't happening. I struggle to believe those people - their minds are in dead ends. #2 The Lies We Tell Ourselves Leaving everyone, I haven't told whatever could be said. Sometimes people close their minds, they say: »I tried furiously to bring him back.« Endless stories. #3 self-destruction I liked getting lost to be perfectly honest. I loved him all by myself. I wasn't sure if I said it - I meant it. #4 Human Tragedy People live waiting and waiting and I know now we took an awful lot of tomorrow. #5 What Happens Any way, the ones that I like go eventually as if nothing had ever happened. I hope we'll find the way to yesterday again. #6 Before I used to think I'd rather be dead than spend the day with you. #7 Carry On On the other side of the world, somebody's leaving everything and carrying on. #8 W...

I built a castle for you, my dear - I spent my years on it, day after day after day. I listened to songs written by some lonely souls far across the ocean and thought of you. I wrote you a poem, and another poem, and another poem, and then tried prose but I learned quickly that all the words in the world weren't enough. I drew your face on a serviette, on the back of my hand, on a piece of paper, on the pages of my favorite book, on walls and on the whole world. I spent a thought on you and became addicted. I let your name roll over my tongue, again and again and again. This is my castle for you. I built it all by myself and I will go down with this castle - let the earth beneath choke it all. I built you a castle, my dear - but does it even matter if I never had the courage to show it to you? I HAVE SO MUCH TO DO I DON'T EVEN HAVE TIME TO THINK. BUT AT LEAST I ALSO DON'T HAVE TIME TO MISS YOU ANYMORE.

Fear is asking yourself What if nothing will ever be as good?

There's a fly in my head and it just won't shut up. It keeps flying and buzzing and drawing its circles. Fuck you, stupid fly. And fuck him, really - for being the only reason why I'm still wide awake in the first place.

I let ordinary life part me from someone special and I pay the price every morning after having dreamed he's still here, he's still with me only to realize that he is not. I let him be taken away by  The-Way-Things-Just-Go and now things just go the way I never wanted them to.

One of the biggest lies we tell ourselves is that we want to be happy. We just don't. As humans we have a dying desire to be constantly unhappy and sad and heartbroken. Why do Romeo and Juliet die? Why do we love sad songs? Why don't you call him? - The telephone's right next to you, there's his number. All it takes is you calling him and telling him that, damn , you have never quite loved anybody the way you love him. He would say something like "I love you, too." and you would live happily ever after. Why do you stay with her knowing better than anyone else that she is toxic and that all she does is hurt you again and again and again? Why didn't you go to New York, huh? Why weren't you in London, or Iceland, or South Africa, or wherever it is really that you're heart was hungry for? Why didn't you work harder? It could've been you walking up that stage and her watching you, not the other way round. Then she would've been t...

Everybody has one person they will never be able to forget.  My person comes in a blue-green ocean.  And I'm drowning in this ocean. At night I drown in the memories, unable to sleep as I am dragged to the bottom of the ocean. I fall deeper and deeper into the blue-green water, letting it take me, fill my mouth, lungs, mind. And I will die in this ocean, die at its bottom without air to breathe - hoping that perhaps in death I will be free from you. Free from the chains you have put on my mind, never letting my thoughts get out of the cage that is you - thoughts about you, dreams about you, tears for you. Everything is just you, you, you. There's no room for anything else. I WISH I COULD STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU, I WISH I COULD STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU, I WISH I COULD STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU, BUT IT ALL COMES DOWN, DOWN, DOWN ON ME. Will you always be there in every sad song, in every painting, in every stranger's face I pass on the street, in the sunshine an...

So, I have been meaning to write a novel for ages. Even had a go at NaNoWriMo a couple of times but it never wanted to work out. The story lost steam and every sentence I wrote seemed like the wrong one. Currently, I'm working on another thing. Sure, it's probably condemned to fail just as it has happened all the times before. For some reason, though, I'm hopeful. Perhaps that is naïve. Somehow, without having written one single word of the novel itself, I'm closer to a finished first draft than never before. I have been planning a lot lately - a lot . The idea of the story is kind of a mixture of all the ideas I had before. It takes the good from each of them. I've been working on the idea for quite a time now and I'm still not tired of it which is definitely a good sign. I have done some wordbuilding with more than 2,000 words until now and that's not even the half of what I have to do to fully grasp the world and the setting. After that, I will conc...

The man came and went like a lightning.  He came on a friday - the rain was heavier than anyone could remember - and spent the night in the only pension the village could offer. He was gone in the next morning and would never come back. However, as is commonly known lightnings aren’t measured by their duration but by the amount of catastrophe they leave behind. "The Man", Ed Sheeran

Today #1 Today was an absolutely shit day. I'm left again thinking that I'm a worthless and ugly piece of shit. Also, I was ignored by someone I kind of may or may not care about. Which - you know - really, really sucks. And now that stupid hoe has just entered the bus - god, what have I done to deserve this? Today #2  I feel like throwing up, do you even know what an asshole you are? Do you know how much it hurts? And I'm sick of wondering what exactly it is I have messed up and this is not the first time that I'm feeling like this because of you and I just don't want to see you anymore, don't want to talk to you anymore. All I want to do is to throw up because there is no way, no way at all, I can keep all this inside of me, all this bullshit, all this hurt, the rejection, the aching, the pain, the feeling of being unnecessary and not welcome and just a worthless piece of shit and waste of time. Thank you for making me feel like that. Thank you very mu...

My brother disappeared on the coldest day of the year. It had been snowing for a week straight and it was impossible to go anywhere. It kept snowing and my mother was a mess. I waited for spring to come and things to get better again. But it never came.  The home in which my grandfather lived was not very far so I used to visit him frequently during that time. I had a few people I hung around in school but I wasn’t too fond of neither of them and couldn’t imagine having conversations about anything that mattered. He always greeted me with a cup of hot chocolate and gave me his favorite blanket to sooth the winter’s cold away.  My grandfather was an amazing man. He had refused to fight in the war and gotten into quite a bit of trouble but that was probably what I adored so much about them. He met my grandmother and it was love - real, proper, true love, the sort one would only find in romance novels. They had brought a son to earth - a wicked, adventurous and handsome ...

I don't know how to start. It's weird really - feeling as if you have so much and nothing to say at the same time. Just yesterday I passed all the places in which we used to spend so much time together. Where I told you my biggest secrets and you told me yours. If I could turn back time ... I wouldn't. I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore. The thing is, I am not the same as I was before and you have changed, too. You have changed so much, I don't think there's anything left from my former best friend. It just saddens me to think how quickly everything can change. Losing you wasn't difficult because you were hurtful and toxic and not meant to stay. But if lost you - you whom I was so certain of would stay - then who else can I lose? And I didn't only lose you, but I also lost him and while I've long gotten over you, I still haven't gotten over him and perhaps never will. He still poisons my dreams, the loss of him haunts me a...

So. I did some writing, I guess. It is very incoherent and just me rambling, really. I do quite like the first one. I'm currently reading »The Secret History« by Donna Tartt and the influences should be very obvious.  I am probably not the right person to tell this story. From the beginning to the end, I can merely be described as a minor side character and even now, looking back, I cannot say that I have fully understood what had happened to Hanna Grace that winter. Still, I will try to explain my impressions as clearly as possible. Despite being not the right person to tell this story, I guess I am the only one left.  The thing is, even now, after so much time has passed by, no one knows for sure who really had killed Hanna. It could have been anyone. Personally, I still believe it was Audree. But as I said — one cannot be sure. One might wonder why I have come to talk about this now, now that it is much too late, now that it has been ages since we all have seen o...

Prompt: Pick up the book nearest to you. Use the last sentence on page 89 as today's writing prompt. I picked "The Book of Tomorrow" by Cecelia Ahern, haven't read it yet and there's probably no character named Cedric but I actually quite liked what I wrote. Which doesn't happen that often. I was smoking in my room and I didn't open the window because it was absolutely freezing out and whenever I opened my doors they used to just slam shut, which was a total head wreck. The air was filled with smoke soon, making it hard to see, even harder to breathe and hardest to think. I could totally just kill the world right now. My mood, of course, had nothing to do with Cedric. Definitely not. It was the fact that I was covered with smoke and couldn't open door nor window and had missed the bus in the morning and broken my favorite mug and my mum had stressed me out and my period was probably on the way. I didn't give a damn about that Cedric guy, rea...

I'm probably not the only one who really loves reading but somehow fails to do it in the right way. Most people's problem is that they want to read a lot but don't find enough time. My problem is slightly different: I also want to read more and I even spend a lot of time doing so, however I find myself struggling to finish the books I start reading. It's not that I don't like the books and therefore stop - I read each "The Messenger" by Markus Zusak and "Eleanor & Park" by Rainbow Rowell to approx. the half but never got beyond that point despite enjoying it. The reason for that is that I always read several books simultaneously and forget about the others I was reading when starting a new novel. So, in order to read more and especially more efficient I have set myself a few reading goals for the new year. My aim is to read at least 54 novels over the next twelve months. Considering that I'm a very slow reader it could be a lit...

1am // The tiny village I call home where nothing ever happens has long drifted into sleep. Silence surrounds everything around me, but inside my head it's unusually loud; filled with the voices of people who thought that their stories would forever remain unheard.  I don't know how I came across them but at some point I found myself going through the lost and forgotten corner of the web - blogs people had written in 2001, ...3, ..11. They barely include one or two posts; all directed at people they had never had the courage to tell the things that are now left untold. Strange thinking that I was a child then; completely unaware of everything people experienced around me. What I did is easy to explain: I visited all websites that followed the structure of dear randomname .blogspot.com . It'd be a lie if I said I was in any way prepared for what was about to come. Without knowing what was happening, I found myself in the middle of the night listening to people and their...