A sonnet I had to write about Romeo & Juliet back in 9th grade. Pfft.
I was in this HUGE hotel that doubled as a mall that had trains, funky ways to get down that resembled those platforms in a McDonald playground, and it was just freaking awesome. Anyways, in the dream, I was looking for a friend of mine that I used to be so close with to invite her to my party. A lot of the guests around my age or younger than me came along and we went on this train (it’s reminiscent of the ones in airports or the subway) in search of her.
The next thing I remember is that this woman is trying to take over the world (as well as ruin my fucking party) and all my guests (which include like a shit ton of Disney characters and, now, my friend) are an audience sitting down with me just watching her. I don’t remember if we all know she’s bad, but, I did. I pretended I was on her side until I could get close enough to her to stab her with a sword made with a special wood that could only kill her. I think I got this sword on the train ride and so several my guests had it as well. I tried to trick her, but she took the sword from me - which turned out the last ingredient she needed to take over the world. IDK.
Then for some reason she turns into this male pig monster thing (Gannon?). The rest of my guests with their swords try to attack her next but fail. Fortunately, some of the fallen swords have become trees, and I climb one (showing off I think), take a twig) and yell at the audience to help me destroy it. But the pig, thinking it was brilliant, went into the audience and pretended to have struggle with an imaginary man that he becomes. This man tries to pass him off as a hero for slaying the pig. I have doubts and so do some of the guests - all breaking into song about it. Yeah. INTO FUCKING SONG. HOW AWESOME IS THAT?
I climb back on the tree, delivering a line about how I don’t trust this other hero, before I do this impressive jump from the tree to before the man. I landed kneeling, looking cool as fuck. I tackled the man and managed to get him on the ground. I shouted for someone to throw me a magical stick to kill him, so someone threw me a branch. I pointed the branch at the man’s heart although I wasn’t certain if I could kill when, suddenly, Snow White decides to save his life, saying she will make sure he’s in line, and turns into this dragon that reminded me of Maleficent. I think I mixed up Snow White and Sleeping Beauty in this dream. Dream ends with me having some doubts about whether I should let the man go, but I decide I didn’t want any blood shed.
In the West, plot is commonly thought to revolve around conflict: a confrontation between two or more elements, in which one ultimately dominates the other. The standard three- and five-act plot structures—which permeate Western media—have conflict…
Developed an idea I had for another novel I will probably write someday.
When it comes other people humans fall in love with appearances, personas, and souls. Sometimes with only one; sometimes with all. Sometimes slowly; sometimes all at once.
My infatuations last as long as matches lit in the rain.
Elise swung open the car door. “That’s not what I meant. We’re leaving the car.”
“L-Leaving the car?” Kara sputtered. “Then how do you intend we travel? Apparition? A blue police box?”
In his previous life, Torance was known as “The Wandering Prince” as he would get so lost that he would end up in other worlds often. This is due to a curse that was cast on him at birth. It has been toned down severely in his new life - a misfortune for the person who waits for him in another world.
He realized the pieces were everywhere. Over here, over there. With him, with her. His heart was no longer his own.
I need to be kissed several times.
I need to have a passionate infatuation every now and then.
I need my heart broken once or twice.
I need to be in love a singular time.
All so I can write about the experiences properly.
How cruel, thought she as the blade with all its bitterness penetrated her armor and pierced her heart. The stabbing, blinding physical pain was nothing like the mental and emotional cut at her heart. She finally knew who she loved above all.
Meg wanted angst. I wanted angst. So CS angst for Meg and me. I was crying already when I thought of this plot. It originally was going to be a cbox plot, but I already have written up a similar plot on the list.