Tash Johnson
Bio
Stories from a seventeen year-old.
Stories (3/0)
Stuck
Every living thing on this Earth shares similarities soaring off into space that when a foreign Earth member looks down, we all appear to be habitual and alike. Different species, mammals, reptiles all sharing atoms full of familiar fundamental forces. The force of each and every heart pumping, beating, dilating, constricting ties us entirely together as we divide our planet into sections that only appear to be visible by one organism planted in their periodic lifestyle. Differing species being subsided from here, billions of ants from an extent appear identical having the same structure, build, formations. The way they act, behave, and move seems to be absolutely predictable as the way they appear to live their day-to-day life’s as if it is already written. They read the book, writing it is not an option.
By Tash Johnson7 months ago in Writers
Enclosure
My dark fur was whirling in the wind as I crossed the streets of the big city. The buildings hung over me as l glanced back behind the large muscles caving over my back. They were coming for me, I should have never freed the others from the soul draining complex what the homo sapiens call a zoo, I should’ve just let things be the way they are. If I take just once glance behind me this perception of me spread out on a hard wooden death bed approaches my mind like a tornado souring through a family home.
By Tash Johnsonabout a year ago in Fiction
- Top Story - December 2022
Feeling With No MovementTop Story - December 2022
Silence, the noisy world we portray this crazy life in has become silenced. All the thoughts running through my head had come to one jarring halt. Wings of birds stopped flapping, particles of dust that you could see from light beaming through the glass window held still in the air. Flaky is now strong. Action potentials sweeping through my brain thousands of times, every single millisecond, and notions constantly interrupting my daily existence. They finally felt as though they had been suppressed and hushed to sleep like the little girl I used to be. His eyes converged into mine. Uneasiness is now calmness like life is born from death.
By Tash Johnsonabout a year ago in Confessions