Moderndayscribing - Scribing Away Little Chips In The Wall

moderndayscribing - Scribing away little chips in the wall

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5 years ago

that moment when you start to write another prompt but can’t remember what number you’re doing now

That Moment When You Start To Write Another Prompt But Can’t Remember What Number You’re Doing Now

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4 years ago

i saw this and i had shivers so I liked it and then I saw it again and still had shivers so now it deserves a reblog this is golden

we survived because we were the “smartest” species you say, we survived because jellyfish don’t know how to construct a Fighter Jet. We survived because our environment is ours to manipulate with walls and floors and lightbulbs to capture the sun and tunnel into night.

we survived by being faster in our cars and stronger with our tools, and better than we were before. We survived with language to build on the past with and weapons to fight the future. We survived because of our hands and our heads and the fact we make the universe itself knowable.

But then again, a mother will gain the strength of ten men to lift a full car off her baby. A man will spend eight hours nursing a puppy back to health and that dog will follow his every step from the doorstop to the grave. A best friend will dropkick an alligator in the water for the sake of him.

And I’ll tell you, maybe it was all of it. And maybe it was because we loved each other better than we hated, we loved each other in the dark before the lightbulb and loved each other more in the wilds before our walls, and we loved each other so thoroughly we made pyramids and libraries and monuments, and wrote not for the sake of money and food and living, but for the sake of wrapping each others hearts in velvet soft to escape the sandpaper winds of this world.

And that too is survival. That too is a reason. Not for our brains or our hands or our grit, but for our willingness to wrap each others wounds in bandages and set the broken bones of grandparents and sit outside windows and sing lullabies and love songs and cry over butterflies and sunsets and care too deeply. Care too strongly. Care too much.

That too is survival.


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4 years ago

bold of you to assume my charger works properly

Your bed is a wireless charger that takes about 7-10 hours to fully charge a specific type of human

5 years ago

Writing Prompt #3

‘You have 10 days to live.’

Mortality is a dark subject to dwell on.

We don’t often think about what happens when we die, after it, about the death itself. Often times, we go through our daily lives without even being reminded that we are such fragile things.

I lived that kind of life; a life where I went by the days with a kind of reckless, careless freedom.

Perhaps you could call me ignorant, or oblivious. All living creatures die, but with the way I had lived you would’ve guessed I was chasing death.

I wasn’t. I had no intention of dying. I wanted to live. To live without regret, to look back and to say ‘I’m happy with the way I lived’.

That sentence ran through my head when I learned I had 10 days to live. A measly 10 days - barely more than a week - was all that my goodwill had earned.

Yet amidst the raging thoughts one would usually experience when faced with their own mortality, there was one clear sentence. Found beneath the piles of fear, of anger, of ‘why me?’, there it was, clear as day.

‘I’m happy with the way I lived.’

And I was.

Truly, genuinely happy.

After I realised it, it was easier for me to accept my fate. At least, as easy as it can be.

Those around me took longer; longer nights spent holding them while they cried, longer hours spent pounding away at locked doors because I cannot stand not seeing them again before I left.

I didn’t even tell most people. Those who had been with me for years and years, defended me from all sorts of monsters, and yet I kept this secret from them.

I wished I had enough time to tell them, to be able to tell them and be there to reassure them. But I barely had time to comfort the ones closest to me, and to convince them to accompany me on my plan.

My last journey.

I only had a few days left, after spending them on clearing all my extra affairs. It was then that I realised I had been lucky, in a sick and twisted way.

At the very least, I knew enough to plan for it.

After all affairs had been settled, we packed our bags into our car and went on a road trip. We called out buildings, sighs, horses, cows, fields, mountains, lakes, parks, people. We stopped and ate at the most questionable diner I had ever stepped into - and that was truly saying something, as I’d walked into multiple questionable diners.

We traveled and slept and talked. After a while on the road, I’d noticed that the others had began to relax slightly, to enjoy this final journey I’d planned, to live in the moment with someone without many moments left.

I was glad they did. It made the journey easier for me.

After all that traveling, we’d finally arrive at our destination. 

A long bridge, suspended high above a river valley. From the centre, a single piece of cord.

It had been unanimous that I were to go first. The man in charge fixed a harness around my torso, gave the cord a few more experimental tugs, then nodded an affirmative in my direction.

I took in a deep breath, then I jumped.

After it, my friends had applauded me on my bravery. They called me reckless, as always. I smiled cheekily in return, as I’ve always done.

And then we went home.

Bungee jumping had been the last thing on my bucket list. My last hurrah to the life I’d lived before I learned the news.

I was happy, but oh I wished I’d lived longer. Of course I would. I had plans that went on for years, dreams that plummeted like a deflated balloon.

But I dealt with the hand I was given, and while it was truly a shit hand, I was satisfied enough.

9 and 3/4 days after the news, I climbed to the roof of my apartment. The stars still peeked out beneath the ever-brightening sunrise sky, and I had wanted to see them one more time.

One last time.

Despite how dark the subject of mortality can be, Death always came on time.

And I was ready for it.


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4 years ago

It’s the Little Things

Little delightful things: Cat. Battle. Armor.

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So funky it hurts

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Please get him a little sword actually

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He’s going into the tavern soon to find his next quest

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She’s ready for Warrior Cats Part VI: The Cat-O Period

Bonus:

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Low Budget Version


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4 years ago

What to do if you suddenly find yourself homeless

FOOD

Find your nearest food bank or mission, for food

grocery stores with free samples, bakeries + stores with day-old bread

different fast food outlets have cheaper food and will generally let you hang out for a while.

some dollar stores carry food like cans of beans or fruit

SHELTER

Sleeping at beaches during the day is a good way to avoid suspicion and harassment

sleep with your bag strapped to you, so someone can’t steal it

Some churches offer short term residence

Find your nearest homeless shelter

Look for places that are open to the public

A large dumpster near a wall can often be moved so that flipping up the lids creates an angled shelter to stay dry

HYGIENE

A membership to the YMCA is usually only 10$, which has a shower, and sometimes laundry machines and lockers.

Public libraries have bathrooms you can use

Dollar stores carry low-end soaps and deodorant etc.

Wet wipes are all purpose and a life saver

Local beaches, go for a quick swim

Some truck stops have showers you can pay for

Staying clean is the best way to prevent disease, and potentially get a job to get back on your feet

Pack 7 pairs of socks/undies, 2 outfits, and one hooded rain jacket

OTHER

first aid kit

 sunscreen

 a travel alarm clock or watch

 mylar emergency blanket

 a backpack is a must

 downgrade your cellphone to a pay as you go with top-up cards

 sleeping bag

 travel kit of toothbrush, hair brush/comb, mirror

 swiss army knife

 can opener

4 years ago

A part the ‘what he would’ve wanted’ wip I’m working on rn because this chapter is taking a while and I need to feed the wolves. See if you can guess what’s going on!

He didn’t know what he was expecting, couldn’t understand how he hoped for the same mechanic that had helped his buir all that while ago. What, that after all this time she’d not only still be here, but would also be in the hanger his teacher had chosen at random?

Please. He remembered how the other Younglings would hate it if a story melded perfectly for the character’s usage. ‘He has stupid plot armour!’ they’d cry out. ‘It makes no sense!’

Fool him twice for thinking he had plot armour.

I just thought it was funny :)


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4 years ago

Me, eyeballing the shitstorm that is g*na car*no

*sigh*

Time to add another one into the

"i used to like them but now i cant anymore"

pile.


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moderndayscribing - Scribing away little chips in the wall
Scribing away little chips in the wall

Currently living in Quarantine^2

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