| welcome |
[28 Dec 2007|12:39am] |
I know new people have joined. It'd be nice if some of you posted... at least, if you feel like it. As it says, there's one rule: exactly 100 words. I'm fairly flexible on how you count, as long as I can figure out how a reasonable person might interpret your post to have 100 words (even if M$ Word doesn't think it's 100 words).
If you feel like writing a promotional post and posting it to ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif) asylum_promo, that'd be great (having the promo in the 100-word format is a nice touch, especially if you mention it in the post).
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| well, exactly 100_words once i added the line about x-posting... |
[28 Dec 2007|12:21am] |
x-posted from ideas because it’s exactly 100_words
following the earlier post here and the well-commented post to asylum_promo and being a long-time IJer, i'd like to suggest making asylum_promo fully moderated with a significant number of moderators to facilitate quick approval. further, i'd suggest explicitly stating max 1 promo of a given asylum per week and any post longer than ~10 lines, promoting more than ~3 asylums, or containing *any* images goes behind a cut.
edit: of course, please discuss the specifics of the restrictions in the comments, as people have already begun to do--my choices were somewhat arbitrary.
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| bedtime |
[09 Aug 2007|12:37am] |
You’re having one of those days—it doesn’t matter why.
Remember to breathe.
You don’t want to go to sleep now, but since you’ll still feel that way in an hour, you might as well try to sleep now anyway. Sleeping on the floor isn’t as stupid as you’re starting to think it is. Maybe it’s stupid to be sleeping on the floor and not have cleared enough space for a proper twin-size air mattress, but you can deal with that tomorrow.
And if you keep putting things off like that, you’ll never actually do them.
Are you remembering to breathe?
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| strange evening |
[08 Aug 2007|06:03pm] |
Schedule your date as late as possible since you work late. Unfortunately, as late as possible isn’t really that late, but you should be able to make it from work. Decide to take off early at work. That way, you don’t have to rush and you’ll have time to have a snack and brush your teeth.
When you get home from work, take off your pants so they might unwrinkle a little. Find something in the freezer that won’t upset your stomach and won’t smell bad. Eat your snack, surf the net, and post to IJ. Don’t be late now…
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[27 Jul 2007|11:52am] |
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Hello, I’m new to this community and I joined because I’m currently addicted to writing drabbles of a hundred words, which is kind of weird, because at the same time that I’m completely addicted, I’m also going through Major Writer’s Block. Which isn’t good and not much fun. I am a bit annoyed about how Microsoft Word counts words, though, because I can write-like-this and the last three words will be counted as one (so that’s how I count them, because I’m too lazy to count them myself) but I kind of know that they’re really three and not one...
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[08 Jul 2007|01:58pm] |
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mood |
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gloomy |
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music |
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boy sets fire... my life in the knife trade... |
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I can hear you through the floorboards; singing to me about the death of all things, about better than nothing, about the reality of my loneliness, and how there's no changing things now. This course is home. I missed my mark by miles, now there's no going back.
Tomorrow will never bring the kind of hope I need. It’s over far too soon for anything to set in. the names change, but everything else is the same. Life is on repeat, the cycles always ending… never beginning.
The sun never rises; it only sets.
The end is only the end.
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| Tell me you want me... and I'm yours |
[18 Jun 2007|12:23pm] |
Sitting in darkness
watching the night
waiting for stars to fall
he sleeps peaceful, oblivious
of silent tears falling
I know he loves me still, that he's protecting himself
He knows that I love him; I was just afraid and stupid
He punishes me in small but un-subtle ways
To assuage his ego, to calm his hurts, I pretend not to know
Quietly, obediently, I do all he asks
as I search for the answer he won't give
“How do I prove myself to you?”
I'm here because I want to be
and I'm not going away again
His.
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| SNOBS |
[07 Jun 2007|04:08pm] |
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Snobs annoy me. There are snobs in real life and snobs online. There are book snobs, music snobs and even Harry Potter snobs, if you can believe that. I don’t like elitism. People thinking themselves or their ways are superior to those of others. Much hasn’t changed in the last two hundred years. I’d hope people don’t think I think I’m superior to them. If so, I wish someone would put me straight. I can take criticism, I don’t get offended either. If anyone here says, “She talks a lot of crap in her 100 words”, that’s OK, It’s true.
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| Caught in my own trap |
[06 Jun 2007|09:22pm] |
Loving you...
Missing you...
Is like a surprise awakening to a shifting of realities, paradigm.
Words fail, change, confuse.
Feelings, like static, not what they were... Misunderstood.
I said I love you because...
I wanted you to hurt at the thought of letting me go.
I wanted you to dream you could've had that future you asked for...
But every ringing phone, passing car, approaching shadow...
My heart leaps at the thought it could be You.
Until you left, I never thought I'd miss you.
Didn't know I meant those words, until you were gone.
Where did that come from?
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| So many questions. |
[06 Jun 2007|12:36pm] |
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A hundred words written not in my first, but in my second language, left me struggling not only with the number, but also with grammar, style and content. Drabbles based in fandom are easy, but elliptical description is out of the question if you aren't writing in a known universe.
And then there are the intricacies about how words are to be counted:
"Are not" are two words, but is "aren't" truly just one?
The word count in Word produces different counts than the word count in Openoffice if used on the same text.
So many questions.
So few words.
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| Welcome Everyone! |
[06 Jun 2007|01:13am] |
Looking at the 100_words user info now, there are forty-five members! I remember being excited to see a whole ten members (though that was more than two years ago). As I’d said back then, I’m glad that people have found this to be an interesting concept and have joined and it’s really nice to see more people posting here.
For those of you that are new, you really can post about anything so long as your post has exactly one hundred words (I write entries in Microsoft Word and use “Word Count” in the “Tools” menu to check the number).
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| Whispered Lies |
[05 Jun 2007|04:47pm] |
Warm caresses, soft as satin and tinged with the sweet perfume of honeysuckle and jasmine. The weight of them rests heavy on my skin while at the same time making me light headed with want as my body responds with both fear and need.
Your words, softly sung whispers, float on the warm night air like pixie dust sprinkled by fairies in order to mesmerize, bewitch.
My skin tingles and trembles and I know I could easily allow this to happen.
Slowly, I push it all away.
My ears heard the spoken promises, buy my heart heard only the lies.
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| Library Hours |
[05 Jun 2007|10:12pm] |
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You - Head on your arms.
Me - Hidden behind my laptop - tap tappety-tap tap tap.
You - Beautiful when you yawn.
I'm typing porn now, and you smile.
Red lips, dissolving into fantasy, re-emerging on my screen. They stretch obscenely around word clusters, clumsily arranged cock-roaches, black on white, tappety-tap.
Luscious lips, they kiss and swallow and smile. Harsh words, they sting. Phantom lips, not yours anymore, they smile. Red as blood, white as snow, black words - I delete them all.
I smile and follow you to the vending machine.
Later, at my lap tappety-tap, words, busy as ants, obey - tap tap.
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[05 Jun 2007|02:55pm] |
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It is interesting how we start but never finish a task or an idea. At the time, we think it is the greatest idea we’ve ever had, then a few weeks or even months down the line, we lose steam. Why is that? My theory is that there is too much stimulation. We are plugged in to the television, computer or MP3. When is the last time we just sat and listened to the commencement of the morning? When is the last time we listened to the moonlight flow on the meadow below? Unplug and unwind, enjoy life for once.
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| ...with you in mind |
[16 Mar 2007|08:06pm] |
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mood |
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drained |
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music |
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pan's labyrinth soundtrack |
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In our search for completion of our imbalanced hearts we look beyond the here and now and forget that this moment is already crumbling in our memories as we pass up the chance to shift course for an improved tomorrow. The corrosion of what we first envisioned has distorted into the entrapment of our best intentions to fulfill a place in each others lives. We have left behind the sincerity that once drew us together to protect ourselves from exposure to the thoughtless mistakes we stumble into an attempt to improve our descending bonds that have always been paper thin.
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| Masks! |
[01 Jan 2007|11:19am] |
There they are side by side, one happy one sad, but yet they can't be without one another.
For the one that is happy makes you smile and feel good inside, where the one who is sad may bring tears down your face, and together they carry on.
Life is a stage and those in your life are part of the cast of characters, some make you laugh and others make you cry.
It seems everyone at the auditions wants the lead, sometimes I'm happier as the ensamble, but it is my life so I must play the lead
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| opening your horizons is not equal to opening our marriage |
[11 Oct 2006|11:30pm] |
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i bought some new shoes. don’t worry, you won’t like them. they cost too much, especially for what you’d (ever-so-delicately) refer to as hooker heels.
you’ll gripe, of course, for hours. but darling, do you think i’ll forget all about what it is we’re really here to talk about?
there’s dinner on the stove, love, and a glass of wine on the table.
how was work today, dear?
did mrs jims tell you any stories, sweetpea?
what’s her name then, bastard?
that leather smell of my spanking new shoes is all that will keep me from screaming;
bastard,
bastard,
bastard.
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| Who you are... |
[06 Oct 2006|11:55am] |
| [ |
mood |
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quixotic |
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music |
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The Kill - 30 seconds from mars |
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When was the last time you really looked at yourself in the mirror? Really thought about who you were? So many people are walking around today clueless as to whom they really are. All they know is what society thinks they should be. When will people start realizing that they don't fit this perfect mold that complies with all the social standards? It is time to liberate ourselves from these meaningless chains that others have put upon us. Find out what makes you who you are and most of what makes you happy! That is what is important in life.
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[02 Oct 2006|12:17am] |
What do you do when the one friend you've known the longest, who you trust implicitly and completely (even though you have other, really better friends) does something that pisses you off so much that you can't bear to talk to them at all, much less about the one or two things for which you really feel like you need them?
I still have the incredibly strong urge to call her, tell her about my brother (she should already know), and tell her about this weekend (the things I need to talk about, I’ve never discussed with anyone else).
Fuck.
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[12 Aug 2006|03:40am] |
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I am at once both petrified and emboldened--I have been having the most vivid dreams, neither good nor bad, neither awesome nor ordinary, always vivid. I have been waking up still remembering things, seeing them as clearly as if they had actually happened, the images and sounds and tactile feel and taste and smell fade slowly over minutes, hours. I have seen my friends and I have seen people I don’t know or haven’t yet met. I have seen events from my past replayed with new and different characters but still the same emotions. None of it is real.
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