You may not love where you live, apartment, trailer, shack… but it’s still a house, because it’s your home.
It’s impossible to say the word Vegemite without sounding a little bit Australian.
Craving coffee but only drinking coffee that doesn’t taste anything like coffee.
Lighting candles that smell good, only after cleaning the whole house with citrus smelling products.
Baking cookies when your stressed but you live alone and are on a diet.
A group of tough guys in yellow pants who save lives for a living but have a tiny lap dog as a pet.
Born and raised in a state with the best Mexican food and freshest avocados, and completely allergic to the delicious green treat.
Spending two hours in the gym to relieve stress and lose weight, and then buying Taco Bell for lunch.
Working in a job that offers paid time off, but never being able to use it.
A mind filled with ideas and no time to bring them to fruition.
Wanting to have a good conversation with someone but they never answer when you call.
Painting a beautiful picture in your head, but hand to paper doesn’t compute.
Pouring your heart out in poems, no one reads.
Some would call it balance or yin and yang…
But me?
I call it an absolute fucking outrage, at best.
About the Creator
Amanda McGuire
Just a girl writing for fun… With a passion for helping others and striving to always be my most authentic self.
Keep reading
More stories from Amanda McGuire and writers in Poets and other communities.
Six Feet Under
Buried alive. What a horrible way to go. Yazz lay there, in her own thoughts. What else could she do? She was hungry, thirsty, tired, mentally, and physically exhausted, and more than anything, she was bored. She hoped she would die of boredom before anything else, anything else would've been more painful. Like many people had, she and her friends had talked about what they reckon the worst ways to die were, it was a morbid subject, but it came up every now and again. Yazz had always been one to argue her point on drowning, others had mentioned burning alive, slowly and painfully bleeding to death, hung drawn and quartered, and being starved to death. It was strange that none of them had considered being buried alive, it had never come up. But now, she was thinking back to those conversations her and her friends had had, how could they have not thought about it? It took a lot longer than the others, you were completely confined, you couldn't move or do anything, you just had to wait, until your body was physically unable to support a life system anymore, which could take up to four days. Four! By far the longest out of all of them. She recounted some of these conversations just to try and pass the time, anything to pass the time. It was difficult to know how much time had passed since she had been underground, it was difficult to know anything. There were many things that Yazz didn't know, she didn't know where she was, she didn't know how she'd got into the coffin, she'd just woken up there. Yazz also didn't know what time it was, or even what day it was, she guessed at Tuesday, it was Sunday evening when she'd been buried alive, intentionally, and although it had felt like weeks had passed, she was still alive, which means she hadn't died from dehydration, and therefore it couldn't have been more than four days.
By Liam Storma day ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
So much real-ness in this!
Well, I'm reading you...and I am taking notes. May need that coffee, and a little more hope in my own writing. ;)