Jan 13
earleyg's picture

It's A Crazy World


Remember to take care of yourself.
Don't beat yourself down over something you can't handle.
Remember to make time for yourself
To gather your thoughts and count your steps.
Remember to self advocate for yourself
Not too the extreme, but not so little that no one hears you.
Don't give others the satisfaction that they can somehow manipulate you to do what they want you to do
But don't turn your back on someone who needs your help
No matter who they are
No matter what they look like
No matter if you know the person or not
It's a crazy world
No doubt.
And by finding yourself before finding anyone else
It makes the world a little less crazy
A little less hectic
A little more organized
And again, by getting yourself in order, it makes it easier for others
So I suppose helping yourself also helps others
In that roundabout way.
Oct 29
fiction 0 comments challenge: Ghost
earleyg's picture

Vessel of the Voices

For weeks now, the brother and sister pair had seen shadowy figures and haunting mist surround their house, specifically the attic. They were afraid to go upstairs, afraid of what they might witness. Together, they tried to tell their parents the strange occurrings, but neither believed them.

"Ghosts aren't real, kids. They're just myths." Their father had said, brushing them away. When the kids confronted their mother, she too agreed with her husband.

"You guys have been watching too much TV. Go outside and pla. Have a friend over."
Oct 27
earleyg's picture

Dakota Ashton Poem


It took a while for her to find
Solid ground to stand on and define
Her place in the society
Acknowledging propriety
In others that surround
Her home town

She was a prodigy from the start
With a fire in her heart
She won every battle
With the fierceness of a rattle
[Snake]
She worked day and night
Preparing for a fight
That just so might
Be the last
One
Of
Her
Time

Her kinship
Effected her leadership
It was a father
Like daughter
A mother
Like no other
Surviving with one another
Not bothering to look back
Down the track
Where everything was out of whack
Enough to give a heart attack

Well, that girl went to the frontlines
Oblivious to the blood-shine
A force to be reckoned with
A legend in the making with
Her weapons
That left her others
Dead, dying and smothered
Aug 27
earleyg's picture

The Race

Cross Country running. Fiercely competitve. Every girl and boy for themselves. Yet even though we run alone, we run together. Even though we are individually running by different opponents, we run as a team. Except for that one, fateful day.

One course that will remain anonymous. First year in high school. I had done cross-country running all throughout middle school. I was one of the fastest on my team, and I would hear my name get announced over the loud speaker. Now, I was one of the slowest, one of the smallest and definitely one of the shyest. Only three boys from my team last year were doing cross country again, and they never really paid attention to me, except for one, and I was very grateful for him.
Aug 25
earleyg's picture

Escape From The Burns Garden Part 3


I hunched over in the hedge. I was very confused, and there were so many questions. What did Abigail have to do with that man? Why was he keeping her contained? Who was telling the truth? I know one thing I'm going to do. I'm going to split them up and find out the truth.

I follow my scruffy tracks I made in the dirt path and miraculously find my way out. The man has returned to the gazebo and at first, I can't find Abigail.

"Why did you come back?" She whisper-hisses over me. I flinch and glance up. Abigail stands over my head.

"Why did you send me in there?" I demanded.
Aug 22
earleyg's picture

Escape From The Burns Garden Part 2

I faced the man again.

"Nice to meet you. Who are you?" I tried, though I didn't try to enter the gazebo. The man blew a puff of blue smoke out through his mouth, fogging the glass up. When the fog cleared, he had disappeared. And apparently, so had Abigail.

I turned around to see where she had gone, but it was like she was never there in the first place.

"You leave my daughter alone." The man roared from directly behind me. I jumped nearly five feet into the air, my nerves shrieking, my skin crawling. Behind him, I saw a flash of golden hair and a purple shirt in the gazebo. Quieter than a mouse, Abigail had slipped inside. She perched herself on one of the benches and gazed both longingly and sorrowfully outside.
Aug 21
earleyg's picture

Escape From The Burns Garden Part 1

I walked along the rows of hedges and bushes, some over seven feet tall, others knee-high. I had my sketchpad and a pencil with me and was just looking up from a drawing I had done when I noticed her. She had a beautiful sheen of golden blond hair and a bright purple top on. She wore dark, skinny blue jeans and she was gently brushing a hand over a peonies flower. She glanced over her shoulder at me and I quickly looked back down, my cheeks flushing.

It wasn't long before I heard her footsteps approaching me. More frightened than embarrassed, I just stood there like an idiot until she was directly in front of me.

"Nice drawnings." She told me softly. I didn't look up. "What's your name?" She asked me.

"Kody." I whispered.
Aug 19
earleyg's picture

Red Velvet


She was the most mysterious person in New York City. Dressed in the reddest of dresses with a fawn-brown cloak wrapped around her shoulders, she slipped in and out of shadows cast by the city skyscrapers. Usually, she had the hood drawn up over her head, hiding her eyes and casting shadows on her fine face. But peeking out from under the hood, falling below her shoulders and half the length of her arm, thick, wavy, reddish-brown hair swayed with every step. Though her eyes were usually cloaked in darkness, every now and then, two piercing, steady gray rings shone with black pupils staring out, seeming to penetrate skin and bone.

She called herself by a name unknown to everyone, but everyone titled her Lys, a play on words jumbled from the word 'sly.' And that was just what she was.

Lys was secretive.
Quiet.
Isolated.
Alone.
Dangerous.
Aug 19
earleyg's picture

Stars of Wonder


The sky is full of stories tonight. Each star linked with another to tell a legend or a myth, and others are separate entrees all their own. "The father you look, the more you see." My father had told me, but I continued to look up at the night sky and I just couldn't be able to read what he saw. All the sky revealed to me was the glistening, shimmering dots that would wink and flicker in the darkness like a single lightened flame from a candle. Deeply, I know that a star is a huge, burning fireball that will shine for millions, billions, and sometimes even trillions of years. But the story they tell goes beyond what I can make out for some reason.

All I see are the shimmering dots that are stars shining on a dark blue-black background.
Aug 13
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How Old Can A Day Get?


The sun, the moments, the day
Ages with each passing moment
"The day is young," my mother claims
"There's plenty of time before."
By young, do you mean it's only 9:30 am?
That's like a day in its early 30's.
The day begins technically at 12:00 am
But who's counting?
"It's only noon." My father points out
By noon, do you mean the day is in its 50's?
We're getting older!
Aging, the light is still strong
The sun at dawn is a baby yellow
At noon, it's a rich blond
When it's setting, it's an elderly gold
When they say there just aren't enough hours in the day
Do they mean that when the day is 100
It's still not old enough to die?
"The night is young." My brother says
But he's no concept of time
The night is not young
It's not even night
It's in its 60's and 70's
And when the day dies
A new one dons
Over and over
A never-ending cycle of 24 hours

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