http://slow.writerscafe.org/Bleuloohoo The original writings of author AutonomousAmbivalence en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776218655 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I've always had this strange attraction to death. Death and life after death are things we all crave to understand. The things we can't permanently say we know exactly how they work. I admit, death scares me. All your thoughts, ideas, memories, everything your brain has ever consumed is all of a sud.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bleuloohoo/1252351/ Actors vs. ActressesMy vision became more narrowThe smell of iron and disgustThe bite of chills along my arms,and this world is getting too tight to keep turningMy shins gashed and ached,from stumbling on the steps of a biased discoveryYou can't tell me yours are pretty and cleanYou ca.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bleuloohoo/1249720/ I wrote this almost 5 years ago, but after I wrote it I never read it again. Please critique it, I could probably do so much more with it. But I was told it was getting too long for the class and I'd http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bleuloohoo/1249715/ This is supposed to be a scene of a bigger short story, but I wanted to try and outline this a little more first. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bleuloohoo/1249218/ An ode to my hatnow how silly is thatit looks good on my headbut dumb on my catShe stepped on it flatand on it she spatAngry she wasfor me doing thatMy hat is whiteIt's bright in the lightAnd when I go walkingYou can see me at nightIt can help fly a kiteand has a harsh bi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bleuloohoo/1249199/ He wakes up, as tall as a heart, palms fully stretched overhead This is the day love is returning homeAs eager as his heels, with the words unsaidShe's just on the other side of the phoneThe flight leaves at nine and all the whileThe shared baggage soon down to oneHe's ready no.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bleuloohoo/1249197/ The heat thickens the airIt's a constant pressure on your lungsand a constant smell of autumnthe old neighbor is in his gardenspicking his red ripe tomatoesand I can hear the cows across their barricades I'm sitting, swinging, my feet smoothing over the soft planks of stained.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bleuloohoo/1249196/ If only I had the power to change things. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bleuloohoo/1243671/ Waking up in a panic of sorrow. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bleuloohoo/1243669/