http://slow.writerscafe.org/NDBaldor The original writings of author Nicholas en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776215542 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Most nights I watch the moonBecause she out shines all the starsWhich pale, in comparison, at the edges of my visionThe night is sleek black hair, that only accentuates her beautyand makes me focus on her face at its center,Impossible to draw awayHer face always glows,&nbsp;And emits a kind of cryst.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/1123763/ The rainbow echoes of each of their "F**k you Dudek" rattle around in my head, so that I hear them every time one of the balls strikes a wall in my brain, splattering my skull with colors. &nbsp;Splat--the too&nbsp;pink highlighter color of Kali's particular "f**k you", like something directly out o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/1120379/ The girl was quiet now, mercifully. &nbsp;It was a blessing I knew would last only as long as the strawberries did. &nbsp;But even so, it was a relief. &nbsp;Her over sized brown eyes, still glaring at me suspiciously, held only the last fading traces of tears. &nbsp;Something in her reminded me of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/954449/ "Tough times never last but tough people do" http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/823025/ Go, with a friend, without aparent, to a town where there&rsquo;s a perfect peace untouched by recession.&nbsp; Take an old car, your grandparents&rsquo;gift, over 150,000 miles on it.&nbsp;It&rsquo;ll probably older than you are.&nbsp;Drive out to visit them, maybe, or to look at a coll.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/822535/ Dear Onee-Chan,I wanted to thank you, when I hugged you for the last time before you left. &nbsp;Thank you for everything. &nbsp;For exploring the High School with me, for watching pokemon with me, for showing me Anime, for being a sanctuary, for staying up till 2 a.m. with me. &nbsp;But I couldn't... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/817697/ "You'rethinking of her again aren't you?" he asked. &nbsp;No, not asked, said, itwas not a question. &nbsp;Ilooked at them. &nbsp;"Am I that obvious?""You'rekissing your iPod... that's what you do when you think of her." &nbsp;Itwas true I realized, I had my i-pod head .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/816360/ Stench swells, reek rises, smoke shadows,crowds crawl like a single motley caterpillar,a river stained with an oil rainbow, flowing, pushing, fighting its banks"out of my way!" echoes from every end of the alleystaining it a&nbsp;belligerent&nbsp;brick red,so you can hear the heat rising from angry .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/808396/ The summer is all wrong for running.&nbsp;&nbsp;It stifles you.&nbsp;&nbsp;Chokes you.&nbsp;&nbsp;The heat gets to you, so you&rsquo;re sweating before you even finish lacing up your brand new running shoes your parents got just so you could start running.&nbsp;&nbsp;And you don&rsquo;t want to run,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/800459/ The envelope was eight inches long, four inches wide andeight ounces, tops and smelt like dust.&nbsp; Don&rsquo;t let the sound fool you: thesound it made when it slipped unnoticed through my fingers.&nbsp; It was thesound of lead, clanking on tile, the sound of a plate breaking onhardwo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/800447/ This is a story I've never told anyone before, so bare with me please, it'll probably come out a little messed up, I'm typing with a hand in a wrist brace now... so I hope this works out okay. &nbsp;I'm not sure when exactly karate became important in my life, or when I put started to tell you about.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/796217/ An apology... of a sort. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/796202/ I told you that grief is a fourletter word that describesWhen the last leaf twirls andfalls in autumn&nbsp;When the fledgling leaves thenestwhen the lock clicks behindThe first graceful fluttering flakes of snowthe gently folding and unfolding clouds&nbsp;When the brook.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/796201/ There's a kind of morning that makes you want to crawl backinto your warm, cozy bed, and refuse to face the daythat begins with a gray-blue sky and the promise of rain.When the gray-blue sky comes you just want to lie cozy and watchthe rain go: down&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/795408/ A thank you I can't make myself say http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/795404/ Love http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/795400/ Like a statue, a family is always there for each other, no matter how cold http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/795396/ Suddenly the lock clicks shut and he's trappedin a cage. &nbsp;He glances around, puzzledby the maze of iron bars that surround himslowly comprehending that there is noway out. &nbsp;Then he goes into a frenzyof shrieking, clawing and scratchingto break free from the bars, knowing that there's noway.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/793214/ Confident strides, assured by our new strengththrough white plaster halls,clogged by a thousand identical othersclass to class,&nbsp;paper to paperrise with the sun, stay out much laterwe know where we're goingdrive the roads we've driven a thousand timesevery step of the way memorizedwith no idea w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/789295/ "You're thinking of her again aren't you?" he asked. &nbsp;No, not asked, he said it. &nbsp;I looked at them. &nbsp;"Am I that obvious?""You're kissing your i-pod... that's what you do. &nbsp;When you think of her." &nbsp;It was true I realized, I had my i-pod head phones pressed to my lips. &nbsp;".. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/786253/ Dream my little cousins, dream, life can be good beyond measure. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/701929/ I hate this,you know?All this bullshit.I hatethe web of lies and half truthsI hatebeing tangled in your liesI hatebeing alone, surrounded by friendsI hatethis game, this bullshit gameI hatelistening for hidden meanings in every wordI hatelooking at your maskI hatethis bull shitI want to knowwho's hi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/701368/ They say that anything that doesn't kill you can only make you stronger. &nbsp;For the longest time I thought that was something Kanye West made up. &nbsp;Well, for the longest time I was a fool. &nbsp;In all honesty I probably still am. &nbsp;'Course for a long time I thought it was true. &nbsp;Now.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/692970/ This is what happens when a class of High School Juniors and Seniors go on a field trip... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/669337/ When I get THAT tired http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/666121/ Another Vignyette (yes I know i miss-spelled it) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/656031/ There's a magic in the treeThat brings a child to lifeOn Christmas morningThe lights of the tree,A hundred glistening starsDancing off a hundred orbsand shining ornamentsThere's something in the dancing glowthat brings a child aliveand brings a grin clambering,&nbsp;unstoppable,to their face :) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/653701/ <3 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/653692/ This is whyI&rsquo;ve gone insaneThe one puzzleThat I can&rsquo;t figureoutThe one questionThat I have to answerThat one xThat when I solve it,Y doesn&rsquo;t fitThis is whyWe go insaneThis is why We liveWhy we dieWhy we exist, I guess,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/653279/ Some saythat we&rsquo;re clay&#2013266048;"molded into shapeSome saythat we&rsquo;re wood&#2013266048;"to sway with the windTo bend andnot break&#2013266048;"just like willow trees&nbsp;Some saythat we&rsquo;re dolls, toys, dress up play thingsModelsoldiers for some dei.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/653276/ I love you has 8 letters, but baby, so does bullshit http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/653272/ Here&rsquo;s to youTo the hallwaysTo the schoolsTo the damned hellholesTo the prisons.&nbsp; Why?Because they draw ustogetherTo the hallwaysWhere 1000 kids fight To be on timeWhere 200conversations take placeAt any given timeWhere 100 friends are.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/653271/ Fairy tale gone wrong http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/653268/ What do we plug ourselves into? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/653265/ Golden grains tricklefrom my hands and fallJoining their&nbsp;shining, shiftingcarpet beneath my feet.&nbsp;In the distance asmall child builds a Sand castle, andanother playswith his dad.&nbsp; A third child of threefinds a tidepool, and pokes at the sea urchin wit.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/653262/ That used to be me http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/653259/ Everyone comes from somewhere... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/652797/ "If you do not ever take time how can you ever expect to have time?"--the Marovingian (The Matrix Reloaded) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/651075/ Just an idea... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/651058/ Chapter #1 of the 1st adventure of Baldor... we meet our narrator and hero http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/648995/ Fantasy, Adventures, Gods, Magic, Elves and wars... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/648994/ You know who this is for... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/648965/ You know who this is for... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/648960/ We all know defeat http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/648951/ Goals... forever out of reach... but only just http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/648655/ Its gone. Gone. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/648653/ Who I am Who we are Is written By who we are with. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/648651/ Remember? It used to be better... didn't it? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/648646/ The invisible http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/648644/ We all wear a mask. Who are we underneath? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/NDBaldor/648639/