I haven't posted here before (mainly because I wasn't aware of it's existence
) but I thought that this was pretentious and bad enough to put on
here. Oh that sounds insulting: I don't mean the rest of the work on here is bad, what I've read is very good and often thought provoking.
thought I'd put it here if anyone wanted a template for 'how not to write' (by Ramadwarf). I callled it "Forse le lucciole non si amano più"
because I based it on Loconda delle Fate's song of the same name. Enjoy!
A light began flickering rhythmically in the most static of clouds as a beast’s howl resonated from the very black of the night; it’s sadness
carried off with the frosty breeze until no more than a dying thought.
What is it that captures the imagination in this tranquil environment but the mysteries that remain mysterious because they do not exist?
Why can I not see the sound that is so physical to my senses?
Where does it come from and where does it go?
Away into the night, like the ghost of my candle as it rises to the sun’s closed eyes to disperse into oblivion.
The light in the object of a desire unlike others of artificial content did begin to swirl until the weeping cloud became no more than an illuminated
shadow now exposed and beaten; trodden into the ground of the past.
When did this luminous substance absorb that which spawned it? And from where did the pureness of silence erupt and conceal that which did deafen
So delicate are the stems that carry these thoughts I dare not wipe from them the drops of a dew- the remnants of a period where this personality ran
rampant throughout the halls of careful constructions and precious but contaminated clips of a life once led.
Surely now I see that tomorrows life will be the same as the one I am living today: so what remains is only to continue through an undiscovered
segments glow only after their passing; so onward through this abyssal existence until all that will be is completed and I can only move on in the
dark- without the comfort of knowing what has passed me by…
Ramadwarf on automatic writing