Friday, July 27

Raise your voice.

Dear Blog,

Now is a time in which I have said too much, shared too much... and far too quickly. In the need of fresh ideas, I turn to my audience and seek for their advice. Has anyone got any ideas which could inspire me to write more? Should I post more on my thoughts? Poems? Stories? Would you be interested if I shared my pictures and artwork I have posted alongside some of my stories? As you can see, I also enjoy the art of photography very much so it would be a pleasure to share some examples. Please answer, I beg you. I'm counting on you, dear reader. So don't be shy; raise your voice.

Until next time,
An Aspiring Author - Lit by the Increasing Luminosity of the Crescent Moon

Saturday, July 21

A petit selection of curiosities.

Dear Blog,

I found several unnamed, peculiar experiments I played with when intending to write poems. I decided to just call them curiosities. And where best would you find curiosities better than this very Blog? Well, I say we keep this question rhetorical. Enough talk! Enjoy these two, peculiar knickknacks.

Curiosity #1 (and my personal favorite)

Waiting for your prey, 
Hidden in the gallows.
Day after day,
Alone in the shadows.
Creep on the innocent,
Sense their fear;
Forever present.
They know you're near.
Unexpectedly rush,
To get your feed.
With terror they flush,
Ignore what they plead.
Like a hair-raising shiver,
Waiting to go up someone's spine.
Drown then in a river,
Trip them with a vine.
Think to yourself...
What have you done?
You wanted wealth,
But you got none.

Curiosity #2 (which I am also very fond of)

I think of you every day.
Yes, I remember.
When you lead the way.
Back in September,
You always knew what to say.
Like burning ember,
You never cooled away.

Until next time,
An Aspiring Author - Lit by the Silver Crown of the Crescent Moon

Thursday, July 19


Dear Blog,

I'm sorry this text is so short, but at least I managed to share something with you today. It is a bit like a metaphor, all written using personification. I hope you can see what I meant when I wrote it. Thank you for your support, dear reader.

Hope stood there, in the deserted alleyway, hidden away by the shadows as dark as death itself. Her once frail and delicate poise seemed to have crumbled into pieces. Her alluring copper curls were covered in dark stains of ink. They had lost their glossiness and were now a dull shade of chestnut brown that no longer glittered in the moonlight. Her peachy, porcelain-like skin was found under dirty smudges of coal all across her body. Her full, cherry lips no longer formed a merry smile, but were dry and bruised. The dress she wore was torn and ragged, displaying the scars on her sore legs. Her fine, elegant fingers were scratched and bare, shivering in the bitter iciness, no longer in the comfort of formal, silk gloves. Like an ancient and abandoned doll in a playroom, Hope was lost.

Sunday, July 8


Dear Blog,

The piece of writing I present to you was actually a task I wrote for school. I was asked to do a descriptive piece of writing about my favorite place, and here it is. Enjoy!

Of all the different ways to entertain oneself, reading has always been amongst the most popular activities throughout time, despite the great variety of modern creations made recently. Dear reader, it should cross your mind that it seems there is nothing more soothing than a serene afternoon lost in the pages of a gripping book. As our piece of writing commences I must make it clear that, reader, you are correct. Indeed, reading has no match.

Picture yourself in the comfort of your home. A thick odor of smoke fills the room, coming from a cackling blaze that purrs contently in a fireplace. Above the flames hangs an orb-shaped mirror, reflecting the surrounding cream colored walls which are covered with framed photographs of the bustling streets of Paris, the lurid sunflowers of Tuscany and the snow covered rooftops of Colorado. 
From time to time, an antique grandfather clock's chimes interrupt the tranquil stillness- yet the sole sound of it is angelic. You run your toes through the thick carpeting as you position yourself on the snug, velvet cushioned window sill.

After making way through numerous layers of lacy curtains, you press your face against the wide, icy window. Raindrops trickle down it, as steadily as teardrops do on cheeks flushed crimson with desperation. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. The rain continues falling in the outside world, as you feel grateful that the warmth and comfort of your home is there to shelter you from the bitter chill found simply through the clear glass. The contrast between the interior and exterior is significant and one would never guess they were so close together. Outside, the rich landscape of the lush countryside can be seen. I the far distance, the faint image of a village can be stopped peeking over the horizon like the first rays of sunlight awakening over a valley.

Once satisfied, you then open a book. Any book will do, as long as you can loose yourself in its labyrinth of ink and savor every word found. You must be able to feel locked away in a sanctuary; in your own little world. As you progress through the novel, you bring a cup to your lips. Instantly, you feel warm cocoa gush down your throat like a stream of gold. You put the cup down again and continue to wonder around in the realm of literature. 

Can you see it now, reader? Can you picture what was explained previously? If you can't, try harder. Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Let your imagination take you to this very room. Accumulate all the different segments of this little description. The window, the fireplace, the grandfather clock. Everything. Put all the separate pieces together to form one, complete jigsaw puzzle. Can you see it now? One should think so.
Dear reader, you should now certainly believe that nothing can eclipse an afternoon spent feeding your mind with reading.

An apology to my readers.

Dear Blog,
I am so very, deeply sorry I haven't written any stories lately. Believe me, I shall do so very, very soon. I have been away several weeks, so I couldn't have access to the internet and this Blog. Luckily, now I can continue. I wish you have not lost hope yet and you will read my work sometime again or check if there is anything new. Thank you for being supportive and actually getting me carried away and posting stories. If the demand wasn't so high, I would have never even managed to post any of the pocket watch story ever. Thank you, reader.

Until next time,
An Aspiring Author - Lit by the Silvery Figure of the Crescent Moon