How grammar and punctuation are used is only relative to your audience. There are a number of formats preferred for writing depending on your audience and many of these have conflicting rules on punctuation and grammar; because there is no exact science on the way we convey thought, no-matter how much there are those who would like to think they can control it. But, if authors wish to reach their widest reader base possible, their work should convey meaning as clearly as can be penned so all who read the work will understand. This requires punctuation to clarify thought. When it comes to creative writing in dialogue: very few people, if any, speak in proper grammar 100% of the time; thus slang contractions and sentence fragment are used and should be used, because it’s real. But, who of us here doesn’t see the need for “quotation marks” encasing your protagonist’s dialogue. Would there be clarity of thought of what’s happening, or who’s speaking if the quotation marks are left out? Will this limit your audience if they can’t see charity in the narration? Periods and capital letters add clarity to a break in thought in sentence structure. Ask yourself: How much will my readers truly understand if I remove all punctuation and capital letters. Are you truly conveying thought that will reach your widest audience? My friends, all of us here post because we want others to read our thoughts and written works-of-art. Hopefully we are also here to learn from each other.

“To me,— Good Writing,— Lives.”

We haven't met.

Here we are -

at this party -

wearing these pseudonymous masks,

sharing words,

enjoying drinks (among other spoils),

exchanging spirits.

I feel so connected to this

family

I have never met

in person.

Thank you

for being here.

Just wanted to say -

I sincerely

love you all.

I need help.

I don't understand what's going on in my mind.

I feel like I don't know myself.

I have so many questions that I can't answer.

I need help.

I'm not ok...

Perhaps I don't have anything to say anymore? I have opened this laptop to the blank document and stared for hours on end, waiting for some kind of insipiration. Words once flowed out of me like waves to the shore. To breathe was to create. Images upon images. Even in the darkest moments of my life, these pages filled with color and torment. As if I was reaching out in desperation for someone to share in my sorrow. For it is only suffering if it is in silence. I have been silent for a long time. "You need routine," the doctors would say. "In routine, you find stability. And in stability you will find your peace. And also, don't trust all of your thoughts. This kind of disease can be tricky." And so I burried the voice within. The voice that came from the downward spiral of a shattered heart. "It's a cruel and grueling life," it would say. "A place where death is the only certainty and all else is fickle." I have heard many names for this voice. Pessismist, sketptic, cynic and misanthrope are but a few of those names. Depression was perhaps the most common categorization. So I shoveled the medicaton down my throat and as time went on, I establsihed routine. I made new friends. I found love. For all this, I am thankful. However, whenever I come back to this blank page......nohting flows. There is no colorful depiction of the depraved. No vivid visualization of the demons I once held within. I had thought...perhaps...that when the grief had passed and my heart had mended, I would write about life's great triumphs and passion. That my writings would hold joy and light. But instead, I am left with shallow words. As if I lost my voice in the monontonous cultivation of stability I had always craved.

The Jeep swerved back and forth. Eric did his best to drive ahead of the gang chasing them.

But they were not going to stop the chase. Not even as they approached a cliff.

Eric looked at Sam. He told her to trust him. With tears in her eyes, she gave a nod & their car went over the cliff.

The car went flying into the air before making a SPLASH into the frigid waters. Eric held his breath and tried to make his way out of the Jeep, the door didn’t even budge. He pushed it and a flood of the sea water flowed into the car.

He pulled Sam’s hand and did his best to hold her tight. As soon as he was almost reaching the top of the water, he slowly lost his firm grip around Sam.

Eric gripped her hand~ tighter & tighter- until he felt her let go. He pushed himself, diving toward her...her body sank into the water and he could not hold his breath under water for much longer..

His head rose from the water and he gasped for air. He looked around to see if the coast was clear. He dived back into the water to see if he could spot Sam’s body. Nothing. She was gone.

#DEEP

18 June, 2020 (Thursday)

For years I've watched from the sidelines

Longing to be a part,

But always being apart,

Because one loophole makes me afraid.

But I won't do it, I can't, I won't,

No matter how much I want to be

One of them;

Be on the stage, feel the light.

They say I can do it anyway,

But whether I can I'll never say.

I cannot ask, though I have tried,

And now I'll never have the chance.

If I really wanted it, would I have done more?

But it's too late now, and I'll move on.

But still look back and wonder:

How would it have been

If I'd had the courage to speak up?

—phone rings—

my heart beats

f r a n t i c a l l y

—phone rings—

why does he decide to call now?

it’s been years

of voicemails

and

s i l e n c e

years of

l o n e l i n e s s

and

w o n d e r i n g

(wondering where i went wrong, or if he still cared)

—phone rings—

Y E A R S

doesn’t he realize how much that hurt me?

years

of

late night

whiskey tears

years

of

straining to read

glowing texts in the dark

attempting to find the answer

to all of my

b u r n i n g

questions

—phone rings—

no

he does not get to call me

after all of these years

of

e m p t i n e s s

(it isn’t fair)

—phone rings—

(i take one deep breath)

i will not stoop down to his level

“Hello”

(that one word was the start of a conversation but the end to years of suffering)

I'M SORRY

for what?

saying that you didn't matter

and?

turning my back against you

anything else?

leaving. staying. talking. staying silent.

I miss you and I wish that I could do it all over...

... (silence)

i'm really sorry and i want you to know that.

I'm just in your head and you know it. It's too late. You knew that I was going. You know that I am gone, gone with your tears from long ago.

... (silence)

I miss you too.

x libbythepencil x

Does the caterpillar believe

his world is ending

before he’s reborn

and begins to fly?

Is the blossoming tree

just starting

after the autumn leaves

wither and die ?

Why do plants

undergo change

to nourish our bodies

and also our mind ?

This is the cycle

as you are becoming

Are you leaving

parts of you behind?...