http://slow.writerscafe.org/Richardo The original writings of author Jessica Faith en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776028709 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I thought I was better than that.I figured that I would never be tempted...I never thought I would become addicted.I'm not what I want to look at. When I look in the mirror,I can't stop to praise and stare.I can't help but to glare.For it's the thing I hate and fear. Wh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Richardo/822807/ F**k this world. No one has ever created what I have, no one. What I have created is a monster, something unimaginable. No one can ever understand what it even is; they don’t want to come near it. They fear its mere presence.  As shadows move on the ground around the corner they disperse .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Richardo/807297/ Coldness;It is cold in this tunnel.Coldness is what I feel.But all feeling is subtle.Suddenly, my stomach begins to reel.I took too much...  Darkness;It is dark in this tunnel.Darkness is what I feel.It makes your senses dull.And then you start to seePatterns forming in the dark.You .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Richardo/804234/ Make my thoughts into sounds.Drum like my heart pounds.Guitar solo how my soul seems.On stage where light beams,I display my feelings musically.So others can relate easily. Take these words,And think of what they mean.Songs by birds,Coming from music queens.Sounds absurd,Like how you s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Richardo/803038/ Verse One:Conformist clothes consume our young nation.Rebels and politics take away our patience.Instruments may display my soul,But will they reach my goal?Chorus:Am I the only one seeing this growing problem?Am I the only one ending up lonesome?Because I don’t act in the worl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Richardo/800591/  I didn’t want to stop, not now. I ran, just ran until my legs became noodles underneath the weight of my body and I collapsed here on this overpass. I know I shouldn’t be here, but it feels more safe then where I was, and the fresh air will do me good. I just can’t be in that.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Richardo/797946/ I get the chills as a cool summer breeze blows over me through the open balchony door. This reminds me of the coldness that has settled in my heart, which is the sole reason I am going to vent my thoughts through this diary.        Lately, dark clouds of grief fo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Richardo/797556/ The young female narrarating this novel has a problem of drifting off into an imaginary world at inconvinient times. But this world is no dream, it is a nightmare. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Richardo/797546/