AnimeSuki Forum - View Single Post - The Creative Writing Thread (All writers come all!)

Qwazar · 2008-05-30, 13:55

I am certainly not the greatest writer of all times, but as all 16 year old loners (or semi-loners), I sure have tried my hand in fiction. There was a time when I hoped I could write professionaly, with practice, of course, but internet people, well, while not disaproving, mostly ignored my work. I still try to write something every now and then, though. Some of my shorter stuff (I am translating on the spot, by the way, so a lot could be lost in translation)

Jasmines (or a story about the funeral of differences):

Bodies, bodies, dead bodies. Dead bodies are moved in coaches, in coffins. The coaches ride along, the friends and family follow, drinking and celebrating. Then this dead body falls in a pit, some earth is thrown on it, as it ignites in bright flames. It smells of jasmines. The whole graveyard- it smells of jasmines. And burning earth.
The friends and the family, breathing too much of the jasmine smoke, become more passive, slower, but also smilier. They peel off their orange suits, while all that's left underneath is grimly grey tracksuits. But now they love each other far far more. So they set themselves on fire, and smelling of a field of blossoming flowers, one after another they shoot up in the air.
The ones looking from the side, they feel truly fulfilled and joyous, because the fireworks they witness smell of roses, daffodils, geranias and camomiles. There was still, indeed the smell of burn, but no one seemed to be truly worried about it.
From the overwhelming joy, the spectators, all of them, ran up in the air, and afterwards fell down, breaking arms, necks and hearths. Pessimists and cynicists collapsed underneath, under their flowery umbrellas. They survived, yet they didn't become any happier from that. In fact they were all even sadder and more miserable than before.
There was a faint smell of jasmines in the air, and another catafalc brought another body towards the graveyard.

--------------------------------------

Can't be arsed to translate more. If you liked it, i just might. Oh, and I don't usualy write like this. I was influenced by a surrealistic book, whose name I couldn't remember to save my life.

2008-05-30, 13:55	Link #29
Qwazar Senior Member Join Date: Mar 2006 Location: Wherever life takes me.	I am certainly not the greatest writer of all times, but as all 16 year old loners (or semi-loners), I sure have tried my hand in fiction. There was a time when I hoped I could write professionaly, with practice, of course, but internet people, well, while not disaproving, mostly ignored my work. I still try to write something every now and then, though. Some of my shorter stuff (I am translating on the spot, by the way, so a lot could be lost in translation) Jasmines (or a story about the funeral of differences): Bodies, bodies, dead bodies. Dead bodies are moved in coaches, in coffins. The coaches ride along, the friends and family follow, drinking and celebrating. Then this dead body falls in a pit, some earth is thrown on it, as it ignites in bright flames. It smells of jasmines. The whole graveyard- it smells of jasmines. And burning earth. The friends and the family, breathing too much of the jasmine smoke, become more passive, slower, but also smilier. They peel off their orange suits, while all that's left underneath is grimly grey tracksuits. But now they love each other far far more. So they set themselves on fire, and smelling of a field of blossoming flowers, one after another they shoot up in the air. The ones looking from the side, they feel truly fulfilled and joyous, because the fireworks they witness smell of roses, daffodils, geranias and camomiles. There was still, indeed the smell of burn, but no one seemed to be truly worried about it. From the overwhelming joy, the spectators, all of them, ran up in the air, and afterwards fell down, breaking arms, necks and hearths. Pessimists and cynicists collapsed underneath, under their flowery umbrellas. They survived, yet they didn't become any happier from that. In fact they were all even sadder and more miserable than before. There was a faint smell of jasmines in the air, and another catafalc brought another body towards the graveyard. -------------------------------------- Can't be arsed to translate more. If you liked it, i just might. Oh, and I don't usualy write like this. I was influenced by a surrealistic book, whose name I couldn't remember to save my life.