~ Unknown (via andrewbreitel)
(Source: lluxuria)
Day 9: A story in 250 words or less about your favorite city
Mijn eindpunt of mijn beginpunt. Ofwel leef ik zomaar verder en sta ik ooit in deze stad en is dat genoeg. Heb ik daar aan genoeg. Om te weten dat al mijn dromen voor één dag bijna werkelijkheid zouden kunnen worden. Dat ik ze eindelijk voorgoed in een doodskist kan steken. Ofwel leef ik niet zomaar verder, maar leef ik echt. Sta ik deze stad, en adem ik hem volledig in. Dan heb ik aan een dag niet genoeg, maar zal ik ontdekken en mijn maken. Dan zal ik misschien eindelijk thuis zijn. Of misschien, sta ik ooit in deze stad en adem ik hem in. En dwaal ik rond zonder verliefd te worden. Dan geef ik het op. Niet de liefde. Nooit de liefde. Maar mezelf misschien. Mijn eindpunt en mijn beginpunt.
Day 9: Quickly jot down four verbs, four adjectives, and four nouns. Write a poem utilizing all 12 words.
maken, krijgen, spelen, houden
eerlijk, uitdagend, rood, blind
muziek, stoel, dans, hartmijn hart houdt niet van
mijn muziek maakt doven blind
alles wil ik geven voor een dans
een rode avond zonder zon
de nacht, uitdagend
dat is wat ik wilik maak mezelf
en krijg er niets voor terug
Day 8: Write a prequel to that Superhero. Pre-Superhero life. Maybe their childhood.
I was nine when I was diagnosed. Two years of being sick and miserable did nothing to prevent the cancer from prevailing in the end. I don’t remember much of my life before the diagnosis. Maybe I was always intented to become what I am now, maybe I had to die, and maybe my human life has never been and will never be important. My parents won’t agree, but they learnt the hard way I guess.
I remember one doctor in particular though. He was the only one who didn’t treat me like a little child that needed comforting, he treated me like a grown-up. Still he mangaged to make me smile and forget about all my worries. He wasn’t the same fake kind as so many of the nurses are, he was genuinely kind. Years later, when we both were long gone, I found out he had had a son who died of cancer. Sean, was his name, and we were neighbours actually.
He had wished him a star too.
Day 8: Write a Cinquain (2-4-6-8-2) on a topic of your choice.
hallo
ik ben shana
ik weet nog niet zo veel
maar als ik later groot zal zijn …tot dan
Take a short walk outdoors in your surrounding environment. When you find an object you identify with, write a poem using the image as a metaphor for yourself or your life.
Nog nat van de regen
Zwarte zon
Enkel anderen
springen
en grijpen
en vinden
wat ze zoeken
Nooit zelf
Nooit zelf
meer zijn dan
een werktuig
een springplank
een luchtkasteeleen trampoline
Ik wou dat ik ook gewoon kon blijven stilstaan
bedolven in sneeuw
bedekt met afgevallen bladeren
schijnend in een blakende zon
enkel ondergaan
Day 7: Create a superhero. Have he/she save the day.
[ I know he’s not really a superhero, but bear with me ok]
It was the night before Christmas. Four children sat in front a christmas tree, wishing the very same thing. For everything to go back the way it was last Christmas, when their father was still alive.
It’s unknown what does the trick. Maybe it only works on Christmas eve, or maybe four siblings have to wish together. Maybe it only works if you face south, or maybe it’s just chance, but when they wished their wish, the air around them started changing. All four of them, Elisa, age 8, Nathan, age 10, Adam, age 11 and Alex age 13, couldn’t stop they eyes from squinting. When it was over, and they were able to open their eyes, they saw that there were no longer just the four of them. There were five of them.
Day 6: Start your story with: “He glanced at his watch impatiently…”
He glanced at his watch impatiently. He had just looked at his cell phone. He knew the time. As did every one else on the train. We all knew that time was passing, but we didn’t know the person for whom time wouldn’t pass any longer. In a way it shocked me to see poeple getting ‘the wrong upset’ over something like this. I didn’t expect them to burt into tears, but a bit of emotion would have been nice. A bit of recognition. There was an unnamed person lying not so far from us, and he was either dead, dying, or paralysed, and we dealt with it by making a sarcastic remark and looking at our watches.
And I can see myself standing on the platform making a snide remark because someone decided to end their life in that way, making it extremely difficult for hundreds of travellers to get from A to B. But now that I’m actually in such a train, I can’t imagine feeling that way ever again. All I can think of, selfish egocentric me, is that I’d never want to go that way. The source of dissaproval even in death.
