writing letters

hey

i love writing, i don't care if it's handwritten, typed, in an envelope or an email. i always write letters to my friends, just short things, but also i write little books to friends, who write me little books back
not that i'm a great writer it's usually just blah blah blah
like this:

i tried, i did, but i didn't dream of you, i dreamed about
tin soldiers crossing the northsea instead.
writing is a hard thing to do.
thousands of things are going through my head millions of thoughts, images, feelings i can't describe. if i could just send you a sound or color my problem would be solved.
though i like writing, it's got something, something special.
the power of poetry can not be discribed in words.
and however hard i try to 'just' write something to someone, i can't.
i always seem to need to ramble on about uninteresting things.
have you ever been to a place so different from your home, that it made you feel more at home, than at home?
you want to know my favorite feeling?
imagine an old car, blues music, or the doors maybe, imagine it being dark outside, no people around, imagine driving down this highway seeing lots of citylights, slowly fading into the unknown land, the deep lonelyness the feeling of laughter while you're breaking down, got to keep on goin' on, you're a million miles away from what you've ever been but more yourself than anybody could ever know, you're silently screaming, breaking on through, never to be the same old-same old, and you're loving each second of the pain, then you close your eyes and everything is gone, oneness is all that is remaining, and deep inside your heart your memories are fading, while your emotions try to get out of hand, interior war is driving you and your car down the lonesome road of feelings never felt.

hold that thought.

those were the days of roses
of poetry
and prose
and all i had was you and all you had was me

there is a hunger for war and sickness
disease of mind will kill the earth
and as long as we feel homeless
we be fighting world war third
goin' home will bring great sorrow
will born in sweetness of spring
in the land that i can borrow
hurtin' achin' i will sing
that i'm a human of grand pleasure
born from a burning state of mind
and i sleep around with the treasure
that keep the eyesight from the blind

everyone around is around you for one season
and if someone must leave set them free ask no reason



yip, well i guess i thought i post this cuz this forum looked rather lonely and that's sad, i mean i don't get why there's so little posting on these topics. so i hope that this useless, silly, confusing, uber bad little letter of mine will get some people to type down their stuff too, i mean, it can't get worse than this, don't be afraid

 

haha yo lisa. yeah i scrolled through alot of it as it is rambling, and it lacked a sense of viable imagery. but your randomness is strong, and while you can teach other things considering writing, your born with randomness. you wouldnt happen to have A.D.D., would you? hehe

 

I write letters to family members and close friends... sometimes hand-written, sometimes typed, with photos and poetry and doodles. I also love to send greeting cards... I guess it is considered old fashioned, but nothing warms my little heart more than receiving a nice card or letter in the mail. I seem to give more than I receive, though! *gigggles*

 

now that is the exact reason why i write!!!!!!!!!! and i fucking joined a forum like this i cuz got so much goin on in my head lol
so i thought, lets put it all together in one letter, and tadaaaaaah you got a nice letter full of randomness no-one understands shit about welcome to lisa

 

oh yeah i always put photo's with it too, i love that

 

Hehe, I like to write my grandmothers I tell them about my shopping excursions, wine tastings, evenings spent dancing, and I even write mini-reviews on new restaurants I've tried.

I write absolute bubblegum fluff, but I know they love every word. It gives them a glimpse into my life and probably brings a smile to their face while they think of their weird grand-daughter.

 

ooOOOOooh, pretty

 

aah yeah...i write my grandpa often, about art and music (he's a beatles fan and he thinks that paul is still a rockin' young fella! ) and i write the friends i don't get to see so much. about the guys and girls i met, the aweful hangovers the cars i can't buy, my travel plans and where the hell i'm living these days it doesn't have to be art, just nice

 

Hi Lisa. I read your post this morning, but didn't get the chance to comment because the phone lines here are as dated as some of the marble statues.

I enjoyed reading your passionate letter and would welcome the chance to read some more of your work if you decide to post it. Like Jojo says, there is a streak of randomness in your writing, but that could well be because it's the first time that many of us have seen it (it takes a bit of patience to get used to a writer's style). I particularly liked, however, the way you were open with your feelings. That is a big step towards writing something meaningful and I think it will be good to follow that style and develop it even further.

If I may make a teeny suggestion (and anything but criticism ). It will be even greater if you can incorporate a character or two into your writing. I did get the hint of two characters in your letter, but their image was vague so I couldn't tie in to their feelings as much as I would have liked to. (I hope this makes sense)

It would also be great if our Hippievixen could post some letters, too. They don't have to be real ones (personal ones), but she is very colorful and joyful in her writing. We could all learn from each other in here, if we can abide the odd passing troll every now and again . But I will rather read something sensitive and true, rather than some penguin trying to give it the big one of how hard he is.

Keep writing, ladies!

 

oh and if u post on this forum and i ever ride too hard on anything, sorry. and i give u permission to tell me what i write is shit.

it is too random, as art needs perimeters and properties (i konw it sucks lol) but like i said u can learn to incorporate that, while randomness is something us a.d.d. people are just born with *high five*

 

keep on writing lisa---it's very cool!!

i could read your letters all day!
peace

 

Keep writing chick. I love to write too

 

hehe i love your style lisa!!! and i write random stuff like letters to ppl too....i send postcards to my boyf ...its fun stuff!!! u rock!!

 

Alright, this is real *and* personal, but what the hell. This is the eulogy I wrote for my aunt. I certainly hope she heard it - there wasn't a dry eye in the house after my cousin read it at the funeral! *giggggles* I know it isn't perfect - I was overwhelmed with grief when it was written... Too much passive voice, and slightly cliche expressions... but here goes:

When I think of my Aunt Sindy, I think of a selfless, loyal, compassionate woman who gave freely of her time and energy. She dedicated her life to taking care of her family, administering medicines and hugs, and giving good advice.

When she loved you, she loved you no matter what - she had unconditional love for friends and family. Fiercely loyal, if Sindy loved you, you could do no wrong. Although I know that I was not the only niece that she had, when I was with her, she made me feel like I was her favorite. I'm sure the other nieces and nephews can attest to how special Sindy could make you feel.

In highschool, there was never an algebra problem too complex, never a geometry formula so obscure that Sindy couldn't figure it out. She was patient - she spent hours tutoring me so I could pass my math classes. Sindy had a knack for finding your weakness and helping you overcome them. She also magnified your strengths by offering praise and encouragement. She was organized, poised, and always had an answer for everything. We all leaned on her, because she was a rock.

When I think of Sindy, I think of her festive spirit and love for the holidays. Her house was decked out for every special occasion with carefully preserved keepsakes, like a paper turkey or a table cloth hand-made by Granny Fox. We called her 'Sindy Stewart' in jest, because she idolized Martha and always strived to make things festive on a shoestring budget, which she could stretch for miles.

The evening before she died, she stayed up late, making a costume for her Chihuahua, Emma, and bagging candy for trick-or-treaters. She was surrounded by the people she loved the most - her husband, Hank, her son, Jae, and her mother, Frances.

A few hours after she passed, a cool front blew in. Sindy loved the cool weather, and often said, "This is the kind of weather that makes you wanna sprout fangs and fly!"

When remembering Sindy, I will remember the spicy smell of Opium by Yves Saint Laurent and the slightest hint of tobacco. I'll remember the comforting, smoky texture of her voice and her endless supply of patience and understanding.

Whether she was your aunt, mother, sister, or just a good friend, she left an indelible impression on the lives that she touched, and she will be sorely missed.

 

wow vixen i love it!

 

omg i found my first ever break-up letter...lol

you

you totally amazed me with that rude sense of humor and your anti-style
you with your breath taking beauty that haunts me with it's howl
god how i hate talking to you, when all you can say is you love me
you act like you own me but i want to free
you really don't get it now do you?
i'm affraid of your words
and of those smiles
i'm afraid to find you on my couch, again, when i come home late at night
looking at me like you know it all
you gave me this drink, but you knew how i'd react to that right?! jesus fuck you all, i know that i'm selfish, i know i'm sad.
but when i'm angry how come you don't get mad?
what the hell should i do?
damn rowan i think i'm breaking up with you...

 

Hippievixen, thank you for showing us something that without a doubt was written with a painful heart. Opening our feelings for the world to see is one of the hardest things to do. Same goes for you Lisa, and already I can relate to your style. Sometimes we fear what our fellow human beings will think of us. How will they judge us? Will we get trolled if we post this? Or, worse still, even worse than the trolls, get completely ignored, like an old bag lady that's asking for change as people pass on the street, pretending she doesn't exist. Without knowing what those melancholic, once young eyes have seen, or where she will sleep tonight. Some say ignorance is bliss. I disagree. Ignorance is the most costly sin.

Here is a wonderful chance for us to be heard, but also to spend a little time hearing others. Communication is about connecting and in order to connect you have to have someone to connect to. I love to see people making an effort to make a positive comment to a fellow writer and hope you're encouraged, as the inspiration takes you, to continue writing and creating.

May the angels keep your dreams sweet.

 

wow. i literally do not cry, but that came close to bringing me to it, and i dont even know why. nice.

 

an accurate display of the random meaningless chaos of young love and broken hearts. if u could smash that into a poem form while keeping all the random mentions that leave the reader wondering, wow that would be wow. hehe.

 

reminds of lines to a song i once wrote

let me lay in your bed
sing you songs and stroke your head
and dont say you dont care
cause indifference is worse than rejection

hehe three replies in a row. sorry guys