http://slow.writerscafe.org/Bobisnotmyuncle The original writings of author Bobisnotmyuncle en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775249563 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Negative reinforcement is too quick to turn into something more sinister. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2950425/ Be careful out there. The Tongue Stealer wasn't birthed out of thin air, you know. It was harnessed to grow in strength. Don't even trust your dad. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2939654/ Apple and Pear walk down a rocky road. Its a rural land on a known trading route in between 2 small towns. Apple says to Pear, "Hey, Apple, what do you think about the new Lord?". Apple thinks for a moment and sighs. "I don't know, Pear" "I hear he doesn't eat his vegetables". Pear immediately takes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2939052/ He let out a hoarse cough of cigarette smoke and unpursed his lips from the butt. "You know its not like that!", "You know that!". The man, younger with a permanent smirk of aloofness and a burnt grease-trap of hair; his hair sprang out of his skull like curious leaches, searching...for som.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2938521/ Pie, Pie, Pie! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2938520/ A bicycle can only be ridden with wheels in the shapes of circles. Life can be a stick in the spokes, but the wheel will always remain a circle. 4 8 15 16 23 42 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2924341/ Experience is a gracious host for a searching happiness http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2922651/ "Get away from my pumpkin patch"-Jack http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2913295/ Suicide is man's way of telling God, "You can't fire me- I quit"- Bill Maher http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2912504/ We have quite the connection-you and me. We've been at it for ages. Do you remember when this all started? No, you don't, huh. That's quite a shame. I know your darkest secrets. It wouldn't put anyone to rest, knowing how much I know of you. You couldn't possibly get rid of me, right?The doomsday st.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2884781/ You'll see that your life is still worthwhile if you'll just smile. Or not. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2882069/ A delightful night, a banana split, and percussive bliss. What more could you ask for? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2881450/ Those who seek shall be judged, unbiased and lowly forgotten. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2881071/ If it is okay to speak letters, than surely it is okay to feel words. The words are but distant thoughts to an internal battle of woe. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2878984/ The day was a normal one and the wind howled its same song. I've always liked the wind; its white noise soothed me. But this day, as normal as it seemed, felt... off. I can't quite put it into words. My ears have always been sensitive to sounds. I remember as a child, I was always the one to point o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2878513/ It seems the world would rather continue to play than be put on pause. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2877446/ A beautiful end to a nightmarish present. The troll's life has been a taxing one and has taken a toll. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2877212/ It bellows and howls, rocking back and forth. It does not know who or what is the cause. It only knows that it is in pain.  A pain it remembers no doubt. It remembers a time of joy and fondness for life.The asphalt it trekked upon was a good surface to employ its powers. &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2877167/ The dusty cellar has experienced the stream of time's flow for an incredible length of time now. It has seen the good, bad, sorrowful, and most joyous of times. It has stayed constant while each new tenant flickers quicker than red phosphorus exposed to meaningful friction. Its always there, and its.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2848935/ Does a dog feed on its master's flesh when they have perished? Or do they simply wallow and howl about? Let's say in this scenario, the master, a rather dislikable, antisocial hermit, groans about with a constricting chest, toppling over like a forest's tree. From the dog's perspective, it knows tha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2847396/ Death Dialogue squawks at my doorfrothing a swath swordbreathin' a heathen at my doorstep  An orthodox tongued whoremountains of words loaded afloated reciprocated with filthy fluttered muttersConversation implores at my entrywaypleading an intelligent foe to sprayan unsheathed chuffed scuff in.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2847100/ The lonely cave, I often find myself locked away. I take peace in its hideaway. The comforting chill of the rocks-the thinking dark in the atmosphere. The repose I feel lying in its hallow, can only come from that there in the cave. Its not buzzing with bees, or gawking with shes, hims, and all in b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2846842/ Was that the wind or a fart?I couldn't have known, thought it a shartTo the bathroom, I walk and swayPraying to the Gods, the poops awayStall doors shudder in fearstomach cries, for more poop is nearThe winds howl and cheerthudding all that hearsconsistency soft and gooey like Playdohwinds have gath.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2846840/ Trapped and confined under dense iron chainsthey clatter and bangthe resonance of their echoes seem to be my only friendsmy stringent, masochistic friends cannot satisfymy yearning, my hunger, my appetite they can only offer me the painful remembrance thatI'm hungryhow thoughtful of them http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2846606/ She cut into her flesh once more, indifferent to its poor. The sensation it gave her wasn't as euphoric as it was before; it was losing its charm. She braced the sharpened rock upon the drought, hardened soil and laid down, soaking into the kneading feelings of guilt. What goes up, must come down, a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2846597/ The stowaway made quite the effort to keep his cool, seemingly petrified from the events that unfolded. He not dare to make his whereabouts known to that, to that..thing. The blood curdling screams moistened his skin, soaking through the pits of his ragged shirt. It was eerily silent, keenly aromati.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2846492/ When imagined, it seems almost plausible to breathe while simultaneously drinking water. This is untrue, of course when performed. But, what if this wasn't just my imagination? I drank the water, and it tasted like it was full of air. A rather unexpected sensation, I thought to myself. U.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Bobisnotmyuncle/2846479/