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I know I said that I be posting other things but real life got in the way as usual so here's something that I never got around to posting.
 

This fills the "teammates" square in my genpromt bingo card (which I'm pretty sure is super late because I stopped existing outside of school for a while there). It exists in the AWKI 3.0 universe of my unfinished novel. In this world, powers are known about by the general public but not always accepted. 

 

Devi makes a compromise, gets mad and gets a hobby (not necessarily in that order). 

 

Read more... )
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 Todays six sentences come from my wip novel AWKI 3.0

"I'll have her save something for you," says Ani carefully. They're skirting around something important, but she can't for the life of her figure out what it is. She's saved from having to think of something else to say by the arrival of Elena.

"Morning," says Ani. 

Elena nods at her and allows Seb to sweep her into an embrace. Ani let's her gaze linger on her kissing friends for just a second too long before she drags her eyes back to the skyline. It's hard when everybody seems to have somebody but her. 

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This weeks Sunday Six comes from an essay on mediation because it's finals and I'm very busy. 

By now, I can slip into the place where all of my thoughts hover, ebbing and flowing in tiny eddies. I imagine my mind into a big vat of boiling sap. My thoughts foam on top and I skim them off as necessary. Below that is the roiling sea of embryonic ideas. And below that is the place where the sap turns into syrup, thickening to slow moving amber. This is where I want to be.





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And this has been a very long week indeed and sadly, it isn't over yet. 

I wish I had more time to write this week but It's hell week and midterms and I barely have time to breathe let alone write. It should be easier now that I finished my big research paper (yay). 

Anyway the point of this was a poem. 



The Other Way Around

It’s 4:57 on a Thursday 

And I am fresh out of poetry.

I irrationally hate the month of April 

And it’s been at least two weeks 

Since I took out the trash 

Or did any laundry

 

I’m tired of writing about tragedy.

I’m tired of living in one.

A boy named Nathan died alone in his room today.

I don’t even remember if I met him. 

We have one mutual friend.

(on Facebook if that can even be said to count) 

He’s dead and I’m still worried about

Money and that paper I haven’t written yet.

 

I’m tired of death.

A teacher who died of cancer

A fluffy white dog 

who won’t ever lick my face again

A little girl I never met

A boy who is still haunting me

Five years later

 

I’m trying to remember the steps 

To get out of bed every morning

With a smile on my face. 

(it probably starts with

getting more than four hours of sleep)

I’m doing everything out of order

Make friends, then cry on them

Wake up, then go to bed

Not the other way around

This poem belongs to me and may not be copied or reprinted without my permission
Mercy Victoria, April 2015

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