Comments Posted By vish
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It was the calling that I’d always lacked. I think I’d always been listening for it, sitting under trees in the nighttime and feeling my soul ebb and flow in my chest, hoping for a sign about what I should do with my life. I heard plenty, but it was either directionless or multidirectional – nothing providing a sense of purpose. No calling.
» Posted By vish On 09.06.2010 @ 5:32 pm
It was weird, sitting across the table from my cousins. These two people, a boy and a girl I had a familial relation with, were foreign to me. We hadn’t had the traditional memories of growing up together. There hadn’t been times spent eating around the dining table, playing in the backyard, or conspiring against our parents’ draconic bedtimes. It was just a relationship of obligation, one which I wished I could cast off and leave behind.
» Posted By vish On 09.05.2010 @ 1:33 pm
Haha, typoes. I’d like to ignore it and focus on the word that should’ve been today’s word, but I’m too distracted now. It’s interesting how a simple break from the norm, from the expected, can fracture your attention span and prevent you from thinking.
» Posted By vish On 09.04.2010 @ 8:47 am
It was sweltering summer day, so what else could we have done? We swung from one tree to another, our hands grasping branch after branch, vine after vine. Before we knew it, we’d left behind all the vestiges of civilization that were holding us back before, and the tranquility of the forest was the only thing left around us.
» Posted By vish On 09.01.2010 @ 12:25 pm
What’s the origin of “tongue-in-cheek,” anyway? I never quite got that. It’s not a terrific description of the type of communication it reflects, which is one I use rather infrequently anyway. Though maybe I should learn to use it for writing purposes. It tends to be amusing.
» Posted By vish On 08.30.2010 @ 1:49 pm
I thought about this yesterday — not this specific word, but the idea that if you’re unwilling enough to do something, you essentially become unable to do it. If there’s something you despise doing, then forcing yourself to do it may break down some of your barriers against it; but is it really worth it?
» Posted By vish On 08.28.2010 @ 3:38 pm
The rustling fabric of the blanket hinted to me that you, like me, might still be awake. Our bare skin touched underneath the sheets’ embrace, and I sighed quietly and closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. You didn’t move again, so I opened my eyes again and continued staring at the ceiling, asking myself what the hell I was doing here.
» Posted By vish On 08.23.2010 @ 5:05 pm
I nodded my head meekly. These experiences, standing shame-faced in front of my father as he wagged a patronizing finger at me for misbehaving yet again, were my first with the art of acting. Feigning remorse when I truly felt none would serve me well for the rest of my life, and was my gateway to a whole host of other false emotions I discovered how to render.
» Posted By vish On 08.21.2010 @ 10:55 pm
One of the worst feelings I’ve ever experienced is that of writing under pressure. I hated sitting down during the SAT and being forced to write a formulaic essay in 25 minutes, drawing upon relevant historical or personal examples and all of that other bullshit that doesn’t even truly indicate how good of a writer you are. Maybe they should just make all the students write a few things on oneword for the test.
» Posted By vish On 08.20.2010 @ 2:31 pm
Someone stood up and started applauding. I, being the uncertain and spineless follower that I am, followed suit. Before long the entire hall was standing and applauding, right in the middle of the politician’s speech. But the whole thing was staged — amidst the applause, a gunshot went unheard.
» Posted By vish On 08.19.2010 @ 7:18 pm
I don’t distinctly remember when I first fell out of my childish innocence. Despite my mom’s cancer diagnosis when I was around six, I didn’t change immediately. The magnitude of the responsibility that was to be placed upon me came slowly, seeping in bit by bit until, at some point, the free-spirited and carefree child I used to be vanished forever.
» Posted By vish On 08.18.2010 @ 2:11 pm
The deafening blast occurred right as I walked through the doors to my workplace. A slab of concrete that some construction workers were working on at a nearby sidewalk catapulted into the air, landing in the ground with a sickening thud inches away from a car on the road.
» Posted By vish On 08.17.2010 @ 3:03 pm
“Eternally yours” is the first phrase that pops into my mind. Is that a song? I think it is. Does it matter? Not really. The phrase is common everywhere, inundating love songs, romantic movies, and over-the-top romance books. It’s what everyone wants, isn’t it? To have someone you can always turn to and rely on and cherish and love — eternally.
» Posted By vish On 08.16.2010 @ 8:06 pm
“Saved!” he proclaimed as he caught the frisbee with a graceful dive right as it was about to go out of bounds. That aspect of his personality, the comfortable security in his own abilities that bordered on arrogance, was what annoyed me the most about him, especially since he was so damn good at everything. But I suppressed my misgivings, and stuck around him anyway. Maybe I hoped to absorb some of his natural prowess.
» Posted By vish On 08.14.2010 @ 3:15 pm
It’s amazing, really, how much the span of a few seconds can change your life. Calamitous events aside, even a sentence, sloppily blurted out at an inopportune time, can take something beautiful and ruin it forever.
» Posted By vish On 08.13.2010 @ 6:23 pm
“It’d seem probable… If it were not impossible.”
I sighed in frustration. Those endless ellipses, inserted into his catchy one-liners, always got under my skin. Why couldn’t he talk like a normal person? Why did he have to always confuse and belittle me? And, above all, why was he so damn brilliant at what he did?
» Posted By vish On 08.12.2010 @ 2:52 pm
I feel like one sometimes. An immobile porifera, set adrift by the currents to roam around its surroundings, soaking in whatever it encounters. It’s fragile and has no real characteristics of its own — just a shell housing whatever gets injected into it.
» Posted By vish On 08.11.2010 @ 3:01 pm
The popping of a cork. The sloshing sound of amber liquid pouring into a glass. A pause. More sloshing, as it pours into the other glass. A clink, followed by a murmur of appreciation.
» Posted By vish On 08.08.2010 @ 7:41 pm
“That reflex, that innate protective instinct, is simply how we were created.”
I almost twitched. Anything relating to religious beliefs or creationism, especially in the setting of scientific inquiry, bothers intensely.
» Posted By vish On 08.07.2010 @ 2:51 pm
This is interesting. I just watched “A Beautiful Mind” for the first time yesterday, and its schizophrenic protagonist believed he was working on a top-secret anti-Russian mission involving cracking codes in major publications. I (not to be arrogant, but I think rather aptly) summarized the plot as “Fight Club Plus Math.”
» Posted By vish On 08.07.2010 @ 8:08 am
Every once in a while, when nobody was looking, I would toss down the shovel in disdain and scoff at the whole situation I was in. Underground, digging a tunnel with an infinitesimal chance of going in the right direction to escape this prison I had wrongly been locked up in. What was the use? But before long, the sound of steady digging replaced the silence.
» Posted By vish On 08.05.2010 @ 2:54 pm
^ This is what comes to mind? A couple of possibilities whizzed through my head upon seeing that word. Maybe someone’s “cross” with someone else, but that just seemed too old-fashioned. Then anime characters with an X in their face popped into my mind, and that uproariously laughing emoticon followed them.
» Posted By vish On 08.04.2010 @ 6:16 pm
The art of jumping fences is something I envy. I’m not entirely inept at it; I can leap over short-to-medium length fences with a smidgen of finesse, and maybe even a bit of flair. But the parkour artists of this world put me to shame, with their incredible vaults and fence-climbing abilities. I’d love to be like them, but I don’t think I have the perseverance or athleticism for that goal.
» Posted By vish On 08.03.2010 @ 4:07 pm
Nothing I saw felt like it could appeal to me, ever. None of the people, none of the activities, none of the locations… It was all just so grey. I guess it took a while for my eyes to adjust, and begin to see the subtle hues of color they had ignored before.
» Posted By vish On 08.02.2010 @ 3:34 pm
Strings of lights, tinsel, and mistletoe were hung in a flamboyant, almost gaudy fashion throughout my home. I’d always hated my parents’ decadence during Christmastime, but this year, it was a welcome sight after months away from home.
» Posted By vish On 07.31.2010 @ 4:09 pm
I’d seen images of people with cracked, bruised, infected feet before, when I was studying common foot illnesses for medical school. By that point, I had been desensitized to the disgusting nature of medical images. But nothing could’ve prepared me for the endless miles I’d have to walk through on desert roads once I got stranded in Africa during an MSF expedition, and the pain was indeed excruciating.
» Posted By vish On 07.30.2010 @ 4:32 pm
You don’t even notice it usually. You’ll be sitting idly next to someone, in close proximity, your skin almost contacting with theirs, and you’ll pay it no attention. And yet when that person means something to you, the experience is electric.
» Posted By vish On 07.29.2010 @ 7:44 pm
The lady stood there idly as the chambermaid buttoned her dress.
“Why are we doing this?”
“Doing what, my lady?”
“This. Why am I putting on this elaborate, uncomfortable costume just to please my husband at tonight’s ball? Why should I do it just for him, despite all his abuse against me?”
“This is our role as the women of the home, my lady. Now turn around so I can tie the back of your dress.”
Quietly, she turned around.
» Posted By vish On 07.27.2010 @ 7:45 pm
Oh, I’ve definitely seen this word before on here. The problem is that it was pretty recent, so I actually remember what I wrote. It was about some woman, being strung up because of a stressful life. I even remember using the phrase “frayed nerves” in it. A lack of variety in these words definitely stifles my creativity.
» Posted By vish On 07.26.2010 @ 3:46 pm
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“You complete me,” squeaked the blonde woman in the romantic comedy I was watching, as she rested her head against the charming, muscular man’s chest. I facepalmed.
» Posted By vish On 07.25.2010 @ 8:30 am