ataraxy's profile
AGE:
20
LOC: Saint Paul, MN
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: June 20
LOC: Saint Paul, MN
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: June 20
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Status: In a Relationship, High School Graduate
Inspirations: Daily life, jealousy, nostaliga, bitersweet memories, people, nature, the human body, mountains, music, life experiences, radiant colours and deafening sounds, spirituality (not Christianity), acoustic guitar, Montel Williams, foreign languages, sunset and sunrise, real-life beauties, Sigur Ros, Surrealism, Dadaism, Shannon Hannigan, Sufjan Stevens, violin and piano instrumentals, homelessness, eating disorders, rainfall and thunderclaps.
Currently Reading: “Running With Scissors” – Augusten Burroughs
Writing style: I write what I like. Sometimes it’s poetry, sometimes it’s prose. I write to express, not impress. I hope to make a career o…
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Version 2
2 Reviews
0 Comments
I saw him from across the café hall—he was leafing through a magazine and smoking a slender clove cigarette from between the opaque fingers on his right hand. His eyes—green eyes—struck me like a shrapnel. His fingers were laced along thick blue veins with streaks of white flesh crawling up around them, bony and weathered, stretched like the fingers of a man only a few heartbeats from death. His face was the pale color of floating ash, with sunken eyes and a black gaping hole for a mouth prot...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
1 Review
0 Comments
What could this be this light at the edge of my window where I see the fire, the outline of an angel the brightness that illuminates the shadows before me? Oh the divinity of the mystery, the reincarnation of the golden sun as it might have been! I see it, and it sees me a light so brilliant that it creates its own day and flashes like the moon on a cloudless night. And what a surprise it was to me as I lay here in my sleep naked in the arms of my blankets, when all of a sudden it could have ...
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Version 1
3 Reviews
0 Comments
I smoked my last cigarette tonight, though I wasn't with myself while smoking it. I was projecting myself into the living room of the people who live in the house that's behind mine through a wall of naked trees. Their lights are always on at night. I tried, at times, to roll the smoke on my tongue so that I might remember it someday when I would no longer be able to have it, because I'm making promises. Promises to, you know, be kind to myself, to not poison myself or stretch myself too thi...
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Version 1
1 Review
0 Comments
That night, the night she was wearing her black robe with the strings tied tightly around her body--it made her ribs stick out, you remember, like wire and the scent of illusion--she was thinking about the last time she had witnessed a full moon. You watched her slip between the creases in the absense of all light, in the shadows; you watched her move between the doors, you tasted the soft flesh along the long arches of her ballroom feet as she walked, as she danced; she waltzed around the na...
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Version 1
2 Reviews
0 Comments
Riding in the bed of an old metal truck as the velvet of the sky passes overhead--this is not allowed because it is beautiful. I say, let men burn their constellations. Let men burn what should not be right. Let us burn that which is forbidden. Forbidden is the space and gravity between bodies of time and virtue. Forbidden are the things that make us smile. A kiss, secret pages, the push and pull of nature. We are not to touch that which lies behind the glass. The sweet collision of skin-on-s...
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The title of this isn't befitting the piece it's attached itself to--really, I think that every writer goes through this same kind of thought process at LEAST three or four times a day, whether it be consciously or not, and the fact that you can articulate doubt certainly says something about you as a writer. I found it easy to understand this piece because I know exactly where you're coming from with it. I have these kinds of feelings every day. However, all of that aside, I've got to tell y...
As a backstory, this is an excellent start. If you want to develop this into a story, you should write more about what happened with Molly. What did she say? Why did she say it? What is her relationship to Maggie? To Nikolas? Obviously you've got a few things you could build off of here; you could go in the direction of the pregnancy, or you could go in the direction of Nikolas needing to tell her the "truth." Something that might not be completely relevant to the story, but might help you an...
I can see a lot of potential in this piece, but I'll be honest, I was extremely confused about what was going on, especially towards the end. I think you should expand the piece and clear things up a bit. You've got a very vivd way of describing things and the tone of the piece is well set by the way you describe what the main guy sees in the sheets, the stars spinning, things becoming blurry, etc. Work on it and bring out a story, and if you can, try to make the story character driven as opp...
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