My family is very religious, so it was a suprise to see that it wasnt only just people dying and lava all around. Its basically just a prison with âTourture Tuesdayâ. I never thought Iâd end up here, I mean, Iâm a Christian..but I guess thats not enough. I mean, sure, I told a 9 year old to cover her sholders..and told my wife that I hate her food..annd called Asians âCorona contaminatorsâ and âWeird porn watchersâ âŠâŠand also hit on random women at WalmartâŠand told my son he would go to hell cause hes gay⊠But other than that im a amazing person!!
(Multiple writing in a day ?!?! đ€Ż)
Tw??
He sat in the large room Many of his other peers ïżŒflooded into the close together seats Chatting Laughing And wondering whose going up onto the cheep looking school stage first
The lights turn off And shine onto the principal who is welcoming all and teaching how to act
No talking No eating No disrespecting No leaving
When he leaves a girl comes up She clears her throat Picks up the microphone And sings
He watched silently Hearing the singing Hearing the beats Hearing the others clapping along And some even singing along
Hating it
It ends and everyone claps Some whistle The room filled with noise
His chest pounds His head hurts His hands shake His flight or fight sense kicking in
But no time to think, more people will come up and show their tricks
Lights flicker People dance People play instruments Lights moves
Its getting repeative
People clapping People whistling People cheering Clapping Whistling Cheering
But he has to remember the rules
No talking No eating No disrespecting No leaving
Even if hes shaking Even if his chest hurts Even if his ears ring Even if his body wants to move Even if his voice is shakey Even if he gets unpleasant butterflies Even if he wants to cry Even if he wants to grab onto something
Remember the last rule
Dont Leave The Auditorium
(This is based off smth I experienced :,] ) (Also idk if this is considered a poem)
âMr. Shlong, whats the secret to the amazing food that you create?â The interviewer asked the chef. âWell..thats a secret for another day!â He replied, giving a small grin. He knew he couldnt say the truth about his food. It wasnt that he was some murderer or cannible, it was just cocaine.
I didnât sign up for this No, seriously. I thought I was gonna work with giraffes and penguins, not jackalope, unicorn, dragons, and soâŠso much more. If you think this job is âuniqueâ, your not wrong, but if you think is âfunâ and âeasyâ you so wrong. For example, theirs a enclosure,ïżŒ that has two female unicorns and two female pegasusâŠcan you guess their names? If you guessed that their my little pony names then DING DING DING, your right! Another thing, one of the most dangerous âanimalsâ their is a mini-kraken. Apparently some zoo thought that it was a octopus, and then half of their employees died, and we have that thing here, so thats fun! So the moral of the story is to never work at a zoo, or else youll be stuck here, like me.
(IM NOT DEAD I SWEAR YOU GUYS T^T)
Nick and John were on a walk, Nick then looks at John with a smile
âYou wanna go to the park over there?â
He points to a surprisingly big park with brightly colored slides and swings. John looks up at Nick with a puzzled look
âYou want to go over thereâŠ?â
He responds in a way that made it sound like a statement and questions at the same time. He looks over to the same park with cobwebs in some corners and the dull colored paint chipping off.
âYeah..no.â
âCome on! Why donât you want to go? We could go on the swings like when we were in elementary-â
John gives a loud sigh.
âFor fucks sake, FINE! Fine..â
He glared at Nick with annoyance.
âWe can go to the stupid park where someone in a white van is gonna kidnap usâŠâ
âYay!â
He hugs John with a smile
âI know I can always count of you buddy!â
(NICK AND JOHN ARE THE BEST DUO IVE CAME UP WITH AND IâLL NEVER STOP PUTTING THEM IN SILLY STORIESâŒïž)
Iâm still alive, itâs just been school thatâs been stoping me from being able to write stories and poems! And also the fact that my friends is currently writing a book with my help has stopped me from doing these little prompts, but Iâll be on break, so Iâll be able to write more!
Let me sum it up quickly:
Iâve been helping a friend write a book, and schools stoped me from being active đ„Č
Click click the keyboard goes, like James pen in the other pod.
Looking at the words makes you wonder..
how people came up with words.? how did people react when others made random noises..? How did people fix arguments. Would their be any fashion of some time in that era..? Why do people show cavemen as fat and dumb, even though they ways had to hunt and think of ways to do new things..? How would I look if I was born in that era..? Iâd probably be- âAY! WHATHCA DOINâ SLACKING OFF EH?â Damn it my boss caught me âUhh, Iâm now, Iâm just thinking about some stuffâ âLike what?!â âUhhhhhâ you think to yourself âDrugs!â âYour firedâ âAwe man :[â
MORAL OF THE STORY: Donât think about dumbs things at the wrong time, think of dumb things in the shower đ
Ann clicked the âgenerateâ button on the Ai based website, also known as âThis Person Does Not Existâ. The Ai takes many photos of many people, and in only seconds it can pump out a image, and Ann was fascinated by it. Click. Click. Press. Click. Every second of every hour Click. Even in school she would use it, and she sometimes got caught..but..one day, as she tucks herself in her bed, and opens her phone for the last time. She goes the the website and clicks, but something felt..off. This time, it looked a little like her. Same brown hair and same green eyes. Every new click looked a little more like her. She looks at the phone in awe, feeling her stomach turn. After a not so long time every photo generated was her, and reloading the site didnât fix the issue.
(Inspired by a silly creepypasta đ btw Ik this isnât supper good Iâm just tired đą)
From the corner of my eye I see them every day and night
From the corner of my eye I watch those things laugh and cry
From the corner of my eye they always see them hide in plain sight
From the corner of my eye I see and hear them snicker and plan
When I eat When I sleep When I cry And when I die
I always see them And they always see me
(My first poem!)
