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Literature Text
Life is a metaphor.
It doesn't always make sense.
Sometimes it's bad. It's painfully misused or annoyingly inaccurate and just makes you want to give up and stop reading.
Other times it's fine and dandy, but just a little too complex, to the point it all just seems ridiculous and you just can't suspend your disbelief that much. Occasionally it relies too much on an in joke that the audience doesn't entirely understand which just makes everyone a little confused and detached from the whole.
Most of the time, it sounds good until you actually think about it. When put under close scrutiny, it all seems to come crashing down around you and makes you wonder why it ever seemed reasonable in the first place.
Sometimes though, it's perfect. Sometimes it works beautifully, poignantly, and exactly like it should. When it's one you've written, it makes you feel proud and satisfied with your work. When it's someone else's, it either leaves you in awe of their talent or depressed that you can't live up to their standards.
It doesn't always make sense.
Sometimes it's bad. It's painfully misused or annoyingly inaccurate and just makes you want to give up and stop reading.
Other times it's fine and dandy, but just a little too complex, to the point it all just seems ridiculous and you just can't suspend your disbelief that much. Occasionally it relies too much on an in joke that the audience doesn't entirely understand which just makes everyone a little confused and detached from the whole.
Most of the time, it sounds good until you actually think about it. When put under close scrutiny, it all seems to come crashing down around you and makes you wonder why it ever seemed reasonable in the first place.
Sometimes though, it's perfect. Sometimes it works beautifully, poignantly, and exactly like it should. When it's one you've written, it makes you feel proud and satisfied with your work. When it's someone else's, it either leaves you in awe of their talent or depressed that you can't live up to their standards.
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i was raised a girl by well-meaning generations and wounded dreamers. i was raised a girl by inevitable justifications and greedy schemers. i was raised a girl always too good a student for my own good— so i smile in the face of anger remain patient as if my life depended on it; so i listen to all sides and hide my unease when none listen to me; so i give because i have so much and never ask because i need nothing more. if i want more i couldn't say, so instead of demanding change i find it's easier to leave, leaving wounds that harden into ever thickening skin. i was raised a girl: my girl skin now so thick i can postpone feeling anything. now, i’m no girl. all of this is just an ingrained, stubborn stain that may fade but never go away, like a bloody heart on my sleeve. no, i'm no girl, but somewhere deep within me is a cell with a child inside who, when I open her cage, looks up at me and smiles bravely; yet somehow I know that when I close that door again she’ll
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In a city consecrated by saints, At the center of a public garden, A perfect red rose is born. Nurtured by a bloody soil, It grows in blissful innocence. Soft petals tightly closed, Hiding the purity within. Dreaming of other flowers, Unaware of men's longing, To pluck her from the bush As soon as she blossoms. An ephemeral decoration, Admired and then discarded. So sleep long beautiful rose, Let time's incessant beating, Slow down to a standstill. I will wait your unfolding At the other side of forever.
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Hikeundies High: A Wedgie Documentary
A vast school campus full of girls of all shapes and sizes wandering about doing a plethora of activities enters the early afternoon. Sounds of all kinds fill the air, from joy to anger, pleasure to pain, and laughing to crying. The lives of many go on here, and a rather pleasant sophisticated sounding narrator will explain it all. “Hikeundies High, one of the most diverse schools in the world. Home to many different personalities, styles, and cliques. Its grounds are suited for all kinds of girls to find themselves. Lunch time is just around the corner, and the inhabitants are getting ready to eat” A group of plain looking girls leave the safety of one of the many buildings. They begin the dangerous journey towards the cafeteria. The campus is vast, so they must move quickly. “As you can see a group of seemingly normal girls begins to march towards food. However, in the hierarchy of Hikeundies High, they are nerds.” Hidden in the shadows is a rather large girl, watching the
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A little too meta?
Written for #Writers-Workshop's Extended Metaphor workshop.
Inspired by LoadingReadyRun's amusing but tragically grammatically incorrect "Life is like a Movie".
A little too meta?
Written for #Writers-Workshop's Extended Metaphor workshop.
Inspired by LoadingReadyRun's amusing but tragically grammatically incorrect "Life is like a Movie".
Comments25
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I liked that you used metaphor as your metaphor. It just made me smile a bit. The last two paragraphs for me were the strongest. And I like the opening where you say it is pain full and makes you want to stop reading. It was very relatable and gave some imagery to an other wise ambiguous topic.
The only real critique I have for this piece is I don't like this sentence. "You just can't suspend your disbelief to the extent that the things it's saying are reasonable." Without it I think the piece flows better and the wording here just slowed me down every time I read it. I think the point that you are trying to bring across here was made in the sentence before it.
The only real critique I have for this piece is I don't like this sentence. "You just can't suspend your disbelief to the extent that the things it's saying are reasonable." Without it I think the piece flows better and the wording here just slowed me down every time I read it. I think the point that you are trying to bring across here was made in the sentence before it.