3-19-23: write from the perspective of an abstract concept (I chose fear)

It’s not easy being the so-called “worst emotion.” All I’m known as is the source of your crippling self-doubt, that monster that lives under your bed, or the voice in the back of your head telling you that you will never be good enough. And to be fair, I am all of those things. But what people tend to forget is that I am a double-edged sword: I may spend a good bit of my time destroying your self-confidence and stopping you from accomplishing your dreams, but there are also times when I’m the helpful friend, keeping you from getting yourself into trouble and making sure you don’t cross the border between the thrill of the uncertain and a far-fetched risk.
If I were an animal, I’d be a werewolf. I certainly have the shape-shifting part down. By day, I’m a mild-mannered, almost-human creature that mostly stays out of your way and lets you live your life. But every so often, I morph into a terrifying animal, stripping you of your humanity until all that’s left is a sniveling mass of bones and muscles too afraid to speak, much less move.
People often talk about conquering their fear, but what about embracing it? I’ve seen it go too far both ways. Those who ignore my hushed whispers go on to be reckless and rash, but those who hear them loud as a siren become stifled by me. Neither of those is the better way to be, in all honesty, both are the worst. Like any emotion, I am neither bad nor good - I simply exist, and it’s up to you to decide who I am. It really depends on the person, and the balance they are able to find. So I ask you: How much of your fear do you let in?

302 words

3-20-23: editing bidaily :>

helloo! for this daily, I used these two workshops to inspire my edits: descriptive and narrative writing by Starr and character voices by Soki. (sobs hopefully those are the correct links idk at this point)
here's my original piece that I chose to edit: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7063971/ aaaaand here are my edits!

March 10, 2023 - 12:00 pm
I walk as fast as I possibly can through the mall, obsessively checking my watch. If I’m not back to school in time, I’ll get in huge trouble. I’m a natural speedwalker, but the pace I’m walking now is a stretch for me, and I feel it - a huge stitch is forming in my side, and once I have food in my stomach the cramp will get even worse.
The mall, in its dying desolation, is strangely pretty. Photos of our town are plastered onto drywalled-over storefronts, and the window displays of the few remaining stores are resplendent as ever. Every dozen or so yards is a large fake potted plant, filled with fabric pansies and glossy plastic leaves.

I hear a raucous, all-too-familiar laugh echoing down the near-empty halls of the mall. I know that laugh. Surreptitiously looking-without-looking, I see him and his friends leaning against one of the flowerpots, eating their greasy Chik-Fil-A lunches. He’s plucked the fabric petals out of the pot and thrown them like snowflakes into the air, getting all in everyone’s hair.
I stroll to the other side of the hallway, where he won’t notice me speedwalking.

The rest of the afternoon, all I can think about is him, stealing my daydreams as he laughs and shakes his head, sending the pansy blossoms floating to the ground.

March 17, 2023 - 1:23 pm
I can’t help but notice him everywhere. Today, I am repeating my speedwalking-and-stomach-cramping routine, though in a different part of town. Halfway through the plaza, he is there. Of course he is. He’s devouring a takeout Mexican food off a flimsy styrofoam plate. Attempting to avoid him, I turn to shortcut through a smaller walkway, lined with ferns just beginning to unfurl from the cold winter.
My heart jumps when he says my name.
“Can you take a picture of me?” He asks, striking a pose beside the larger-than-life cat statue next to us.
I silently yell at my fingers to stop trembling as I say “yeah, sure,” in the most uninterested voice I can manage, taking his phone and snapping a few photos.
“I took a few, hopefully one turned out okay,” I said, handing back his phone.
He thanks me, and I say no problem, and I go to walk away, but then he asks,
“Where are you getting lunch?”
“I’m not really hungry,” I reply, “so I’m just going to get a smoothie.”
“Oh cool. What kind?”
“Mango. They’re my favorite.”
“Cool,” he says.
“I should probably get going though,” I say, instantly wondering why in the world I said it, “I don’t want to be late getting back.”
“Yeah, me neither, enjoy your smoothie I guess.”
He dumps his now-empty plate into a trash can and walks away, head bent down as he scrolls on his phone.
I sigh, looking at the ferns around me. They’re remarkably big for March. I think about the ferns in my grandmother’s backyard. Anything to avoid thinking about him.
Most of the time, I’m glad he doesn’t know me.
Sometimes, it about kills me.

March 17, 2023 - 2:44 pm
The bell rang moments before. Now, I crouch by my locker, shoving books and binders into my already-overfilled backpack. He shows up at his locker, next to mine, and begins to do the same.
“Marcus, homework,” he says assertively, before noticing, to his surprise, that Marcus isn’t next to him. He turns to me instead. “What are you bringing home for the weekend?”
I rattle off the homework we have over the weekend as he packs his bag to leave school.
“We have a science quiz on Monday and those notecards for English are due.” I answer his question in an almost-monotone, the words tumbling out of my mouth with no meaning.
“Okay, thanks.”
“You’re welcome, have a nice weekend,” I mumble, and we walk out the school doors like two wristwatches, almost in sync but never quite matching up.
As I cross the street, I see him talking to his friends. He seems so happy, and my stomach twists as I wish, against my will, that he was that happy when he was with me. There’s a flowerbed on the corner where he and his friends stand, waiting for the light to turn. I pretend to stare at the purple periwinkles dotting the flowerbed, when really I’m trying to watch him. I wish I could be one of the friends he talks about and jokes around with. But then again, just friendly is the only thing the two of us will ever be.

Deciding that at this point, I’m just being creepy, I stop watching him and move on with my day. But he continues to occupy my thoughts all through the afternoon as my mind goes back to the question I asked myself as I was leaving school:
Why do I have to be just a friend, if I can even call explaining homework assignments and science concepts friendship? Why can’t he see me like I see him? If I were born a different person, with a different life, could things be different between the two of us?
I sigh, and look at the pile of English worksheets on my desk.
Though I hate to admit it to myself, he’ll never love me. Time to stop daydreaming.

Plus a 197-word reflection:
I think the one thing I focused on most while editing was making sure everything I wrote was consistent with the rest of the story - which is funny, because neither of the workshops I read talked about that at all. I was pretty happy with my descriptive writing as it was, but as I reread my piece, I made sure that the character voice I was aiming for shone through. As this is a two-character story, and one character only says around a dozen words in the entire thing, basically all of the character voice in the story is my internal voice, so I just tried to make sure that I was being true to myself.
Since this was a daily about flowers, when I was editing it I wanted it to make more sense and not just be me trying to work in flower symbolism everywhere. For this reason, I changed a lot of the last section. I also went back and redid the ending, but I’m still not totally happy with it. I’m going to give that section a couple days and come back to it to see if I can make it any better.

3-21-23: write a poem about someone in your life (I did my friend group from last year so technically two people in my life but whatever)

3 was the magic number
3 for you, her, and me
but 3 was never meant to be

united we stood, but divided we fell
and i certainly knew this all too well
but still hoped the 3 of us could be
something greater then ourselves alone

you were afraid of being the 3rd wheel
so we built a tricycle
but the wheels fell off
and we all rolled off
alone

and I guess I'm ok now
but i still wish
we could be
once more, 3

87 words

3-22-23: write a poem about what you see out your window

As far as the eye can see are
gray slate rooftops
Leading into gray-clouded skies
A world of
gray, gray, gray

That makes me wish I could just

fly away

30 words

weekly 3! (ps thank you to the daily team for giving me the 1 day extension ily guys /p)

part 1 - brainstorming emotions

I really want emotion to be present through the characters. This would be both through their dialogue, what they say; and their body language, expressions or actions that aren’t in the dialogue. A lot of times I forget to convey emotion through body language and I think that my writing will be more emotionally charged if emotions are conveyed through more than what is said. Honestly, I have no idea how I’d convey emotion through a setting, but I might have success doing that if I describe it from a character’s point of view - your setting can seem very different to you depending on how you’re feeling when you see that setting. For example, if the emotion was anxiety I could describe the setting as something like “the endless walls of the locker-lined hallway seemed like they were closing in on Chloe” to change the setting, a mundane high school hallway, into a setting that’s more filled with fear. Certain settings also lend themselves to emotions or situations, for example a sunset could instill nostalgia or tranquility and an empty room could be a place for sadness to be added into the story. It would be really fun to convey fear through both setting and body language, and as those aren’t my strong suits when including dialogue in a story, I want to push myself to write that.
228 words

part 2 - emotions in character

(i chose the prompt “No, I don’t hate you. Not yet.”)
Mrs. XXXXXXX grins at me as I walk through the door to the school library. I honestly can’t tell if her smile is sincere, or fake, like mine is. I wish I had her skill, but my face is as easy to read as a Dr. Seuss board book.
“I’m so glad you could make it!” she says.
“Well, I’m glad to be here,” I lie through my teeth, grinning back at Mrs. XXXXXXX with a smile that doesn’t even come near my eyes.
She looks at me quizzically. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, dropping my bag lunch unceremoniously on a table and slouching into a chair.
“Are you sure?” she responds.
*. No getting out of this one. I forgot - Mrs. XXXXXXX is a mom. She’s had experience with grouchy children. She can see right through my facade.
Casting for an excuse, I lean in and whisper, “cramps.”
Her eyes dart around. Clearly that bald-faced lie was not the answer she expected, but it was definitely one that would shut her up. Flustered and looking for a way to end the conversation, she awkwardly says “oh, sorry,” and moves to her own table.
Asking myself again why I signed up to be a math tutor (oh right, extra credit), I slowly open my lunchbox and chew my sandwich, eyes quickly beginning to glaze over as I slip into a daydream. Maybe nobody will come in today.

I’m pulled out of my trance by the sound of footsteps through the doorway - probably some tiny seventh-grader who’s failing prealgebra because they don’t take notes. Straightening up in my seat and shifting my lunchbox to the side of the table, I steel myself for the oncoming barrage.
Except it’s not a seventh-grader who’s strolling into the room like they own the place.
It’s him.
Of course it is.
He stops for a second as he notices I’m the only tutor in the library. It’s an almost imperceptible pause, but I’ve been watching him from afar for so long that I recognize it. Realizing there’s nowhere else to sit, he finally pulls up a seat across from mine and sets down his lunch tray.
He deliberately avoids making eye contact with me for what feels like hours until I finally ask, “do you have math questions, or…”
“Oh, yeah,” he says, and hurriedly pulls out his math binder. He explains the questions he has about the day’s homework and the upcoming test, in an awkward voice that’s very different from the relaxed, joke-y way he talks when he’s around his friends.
I do my best to answer all his questions, remind him that sometimes prisms are tilted on their sides but that doesn’t mean the bases aren’t still the two sides parallel to each other and that a rectangular prism is still a prism and its surface area should be calculated accordingly, and after he “mm-hm”s to show that yes, he gets it, I say with finality,
“Just remember the formulas, and you should be good for the test.”
“Alright,” he says, looking over at the clock (it’s 11:58 - still a few more minutes), “uh, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, interrupted by a huge yawn that suddenly came over me.
For the first time all lunch, he looks me in the eye. “Well, I’m sorry that I’m just that boring,” he says, suddenly standoffish.
I reciprocate his standoffishness, and stiffen as I reply defensively, “I was tired. Am I not allowed to yawn?”
I instantly regret biting back, but can’t exactly turn back now. “I’m doing you a favor, helping you with your math. I’m doing this because I want to; it would be real easy to stop, anytime I wanted. So don’t be rude, okay?”
“Jesus Christ,” he responds, exasperated but not backing down, “why do you hate me?”
I laugh derisively. “I don’t hate you. Not yet.”
He scrunches his eyebrows in confusion at my ever-shifting mood, then decides it’s not worth his time and packs up his bag.
The bell rings, and I zoom out as quickly as is humanly possible.
“Have a nice day,” I call back to him.
Once he’s out of sight, I crumple like a napkin being thrown into the cafeteria trash. I really do know how to verbally paint myself into a corner.
722 words

part 3 - emotions in prose

My emotion was entrancement. Narrowing this down:
Entrancement, when something is so horrific and revolting that you’re going to be sick to your stomach, but can’t bring yourself to look away. When something is disgusting and magical and strangely beautiful but will probably give you nightmares the following night. You’re spellbound to whatever thing it is you’re looking at.
52 words

I walk slowly down the halls of the dungeon, my legs not my own, the ceiling drip-drip-dripping in a metronome beat to match my pulsing heart. I don’t remember where I was before this, or when I woke up, or how I ended up in this gloomy prison in the first place. Whether or not I continue to move forward is not my choice - I am controlled by something, something far more powerful than me. So, strangely at peace with my sudden loss of free will, I keep walking inexorably toward whatever my destination may be.
I eventually reach my destination. “What is this place?” I think to myself, gazing at the circular walls of the chamber I’m now standing in. I don’t know what it is about the chamber, but it feels disrespectful to even think in a tone louder than a whisper. Green light filters in through windows high above me, giving the whole room a spooky glow.
A rattling noise scrapes against my ears, louder than an airplane at takeoff when contrasted with the previously untouched silence. A stone pedestal rises slowly out of the floor. Whatever was left of my voice catches in my throat when I see the grotesque object on the pedestal. On top of the pedestal is a skull - a human skull - that’s crawling with iridescent beetles, among other critters whose names I don’t know.
Something about the dungeon, the chamber, the skull, seems wrong; all of it wrong, but I can’t look away from the scene before my eyes. I press even closer to the skull, breathing in the scent of decay emanating from it. My eyes water and bile rises in my throat. It’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen - so why can’t I look away? I’m scared, so scared. Something is happening to me. The fact that I don’t have control over my movement finally starts to hit me, and a wave of panic washes over me. My breathing turns shallow and I can feel blood pumping through my veins. But I start to calm down as I look even closer at the skull. I’m filled with a kind of awe at its intricacy. The tiny bugs, like crowds of pedestrians rushing through the crosswalk, flood in and out of the skull, through the eye sockets, nose, and gaping mouth. A seed of a memory, buried deep beneath the ground, pushes itself through the soil of my brain. Something about the skull seems… familiar. I rack my brain, trying to figure out exactly what it is that the sight before me reminds me of, but to no avail.
My surroundings shift, almost imperceptibly. The cool green light now seems threatening, and every little noise - the ceiling dripping, the bugs scurrying - is amplified. I want to escape from this nightmarish place, but can’t move, my eyes still riveted to the skull. Look away, I command myself. Look away!
As I stand there, a stone statue amidst the spinning room, everything fades to black.
503 words

part 4 - bringing it all together

I chose to do an internal-dialogue thing for most of it, describing the character (who is definitely not a self-insert nonono why would you think that) and her anxiety even when she’s in calming surroundings.

Lauren slumped against the bathroom wall, hugging herself tightly as she blinked back tears.

Look at you you total mess you’re here making a fool of yourself such an embarrassment you’ll never get anything done you’ll never survive never never never-

Her mom had told her that looking in a mirror when you cried simply made you more emotional, so instead Lauren stared unblinkingly (hopefully that would make the tears go away) at the tiled walls of the bathroom, the aloe green stalls, the uplifting “you are beautiful!” graffitied on the cinderblock next to her head.

Except you should be looking at that mirror watching yourself cry because you deserve to be sad you deserve to be sad because you’ve failed you’ve failed you’ve failed-

Lauren couldn’t stop herself. She slowly, silently raised her head and looked in the mirror, at her scrunched-up, tearstained face and her messy black hair and

Now see what you’ve done you’re all red in the face your nose is red too your big ugly nose it fits perfectly with your big ugly face STOP CRYING everyone will know you’ve been crying and they’ll all ask if you’re okay and you’ll tell them yes even though you’re NOT you’re not you’re not and then they’ll look at you and think about how weird you are and-

Lauren turned on the tap, cool water streaming down into the sink basin. She splashed some on her face, and watched as the red receded until her face was back to its normal color. Looking at her watch, Lauren sighed as she saw it was only 2:10 - still half an hour until she could finally go home. She took a deep breath, straightened her spine, and entered the silent hallways outside of the bathroom’s safe refuge.
“You doing okay?” Lauren’s geometry teacher asked as Lauren walked back into the room.
“Yeah,” Lauren responded wearily.
“I would hate to think you were on your phone in there,” her teacher said, raising her eyebrows at the mention of the forbidden device.
Lauren laughed weakly. “It’s in my backpack; it’s almost dead so texting in the bathroom would be a waste of battery.”
Lauren sat back down at her seat, acutely aware of the disruption her entrance into the silent classroom had caused.

She didn’t believe you you know she didn’t she thinks you were on your phone she thinks you’re a bad kid a bad student bad bad bad bad bad-

Shut up, Lauren commanded the voice in her head, and went back to her classwork. But the voice didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t shut up.

Or worse maybe she thinks you’re vxping like Kenneth does in the bathrooms she thinks you’re a bad kid like Kenneth bad kid bad grades bad work ethic bad future-

You don’t vxpe, Lauren tried to remind herself.

But your teacher doesn’t know that and now she thinks you do and your classmates probably do too now every time you go to the bathroom they’ll look at you and think Oh there’s Lauren going to vxpe in the bathroom-

“Hey, are you sure you’re alright?” Mira whispered.
Willing the voices in her head to be quiet for even a second, Lauren responded, “yeah, I’m just a little panicky right now.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mira said empathetically. “Do you have water?”
“Yeah,” Lauren answered, pulling out her waterbattle and taking a few slow sips.
“Okay, let me know if you need anything,” Mira consoled.
Lauren nodded and tried to take deep breaths.

Why are you like this why can’t you be like Mira and Aubree and Haley they’re all okay with themselves they’re all happy why can’t you be happy WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BE HAPPY-

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the bell rang. Trying to not look like she wanted to get out of school as badly as she did, Lauren calmly put her textbook and binder in her backpack, all the while chatting with Haley, Mira, and Aubree. The four walked down the back stairwell, like they always did, then parted at their lockers and left the building, free to roam. The routine helped drown out the voices in Lauren’s head, if only for a little while. Routine always helped. Lauren stayed quieter, thinking only about her breathing, and keeping it together until she could get home.

Lauren shut the car door and stepped out into her driveway. It was a beautiful day; the temperature was a balmy 75 degrees, the neighbor’s dog was out frolicking in the adjacent yard, and there was a breeze just strong enough to blow the wind chimes. Lauren couldn’t enjoy any of it.

What a loser what a mess what a total mess you can’t even enjoy this day because you’re too exhausted But you’re not really exhausted you’re just using that as an excuse to avoid the world irresponsible lazy weak why can’t you be more normal-

Lauren, done trying to bottle everything up, closed the side door behind her, left the living room lights off, and melted into a puddle on the carpet, curling up and shaking as she sobbed. She had never felt so alone.

Why why why why why why why why why why-

The door clicked open. Lauren’s mom was home early.
“Lauren?” her mom called out, “why are all the lights off?”
Lauren pushed herself up from the floor and shuffled over to her mom.
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?”
Lauren didn’t reply, but instead, still sobbing, hugged her mom and didn’t let go.
“It’s okay honey, I promise,” Lauren’s mom consoled, “it’s okay.”

And for once, the voices in Lauren’s head didn’t argue.
940 words

3-23-23: writing competition entry

Thinking About You

March 10, 2023 - 12:00 pm
I walk as fast as I possibly can through the mall, obsessively checking my watch. If I’m not back to school in time, I’ll get in huge trouble. I’m a natural speedwalker, but the pace I’m walking now is a stretch for me, and I feel it - a huge stitch is forming in my side, and once I have food in my stomach the cramp will get even worse.
The mall, in its dying desolation, is strangely pretty. Photos of our town are plastered onto drywalled-over storefronts, and the window displays of the few remaining stores are resplendent as ever. Every dozen or so yards is a large fake potted plant, filled with fabric pansies and glossy plastic leaves.

I hear a raucous, all-too-familiar laugh echoing down the near-empty halls of the mall. I know that laugh. Surreptitiously looking-without-looking, I see him and his friends leaning against one of the flowerpots, eating their greasy Chik-Fil-A lunches. He’s plucked the fabric petals out of the pot and thrown them like snowflakes into the air, getting all in everyone’s hair.
I stroll to the other side of the hallway, where he won’t notice me speedwalking.

The rest of the afternoon, all I can think about is him, stealing my daydreams as he laughs and shakes his head, sending the pansy blossoms floating to the ground.

March 17, 2023 - 1:23 pm
I can’t help but notice him everywhere. Today, I am repeating my speedwalking-and-stomach-cramping routine, though in a different part of town. Halfway through the plaza, he is there. Of course he is. He’s devouring a takeout Mexican food off a flimsy styrofoam plate. Attempting to avoid him, I turn to shortcut through a smaller walkway, lined with ferns just beginning to unfurl from the cold winter.
My heart jumps when he says my name.
“Can you take a picture of me?” He asks, striking a pose beside the larger-than-life cat statue next to us.
I silently yell at my fingers to stop trembling as I say “yeah, sure,” in the most uninterested voice I can manage, taking his phone and snapping a few photos.
“I took a few, hopefully one turned out okay,” I said, handing back his phone.
He thanks me, and I say no problem, and I go to walk away, but then he asks,
“Where are you getting lunch?”
“I’m not really hungry,” I reply, “I’m just going to get a smoothie.”
“Oh cool. What kind?”
“Mango. They’re my favorite.”
“Cool,” he says.
“I should probably get going though,” I say, instantly wondering why in the world I said it, “I don’t want to be late getting back.”
“Yeah, me neither. Enjoy your smoothie, I guess.”
He dumps his now-empty plate into a trash can and walks away, head bent down as he scrolls on his phone.
I sigh, looking at the ferns around me. They’re remarkably big for March. I think about the ferns in my grandmother’s backyard. Anything to avoid thinking about him.
Most of the time, I’m glad he doesn’t know me.
Sometimes, it about kills me.

March 17, 2023 - 2:44 pm
The bell rang moments before. Now, I crouch by my locker, shoving books and binders into my already-overfilled backpack. He shows up at his locker, next to mine, and begins to do the same.
“Marcus, homework,” he says assertively, before noticing, to his surprise, that Marcus isn’t next to him. He turns to me instead. “What are you bringing home for the weekend?”
I rattle off the homework we have over the weekend as he packs his bag to leave school.
“We have a science quiz on Monday and those notecards for English are due.” I answer his question in an almost-monotone, the words tumbling out of my mouth with no meaning.
“Okay, thanks.”
“You’re welcome; have a nice weekend,” I mumble, and we walk out the school doors, a pair of wristwatches that are almost in sync but will never quite match up.
As I cross the street, I see him talking to his friends. He seems so happy, and my stomach twists as I wish, against my will, that he was that happy when he was with me. There’s a flowerbed on the corner where he and his friends stand, waiting for the light to turn. I pretend to stare at the purple periwinkles dotting the flowerbed, when really I’m trying to watch him. I wish I could be one of the friends he talks about and jokes around with. But then again, just friendly is the only thing the two of us will ever be.

Deciding that at this point, I’m just being creepy, I stop watching him and move on with my day. But he continues to occupy my thoughts all through the afternoon as my mind goes back to the question I asked myself as I was leaving school:
Why do I have to be just a friend, if I can even call explaining homework assignments and science concepts friendship? Why can’t he see me like I see him? If I were born a different person, with a different life, could things be different between the two of us?
I sigh, and think about the pile of English worksheets due tomorrow. I should be doing them instead of thinking about him. Though I hate to admit it to myself, he’ll never love me.
Time to stop daydreaming.

906 words

(edit also huge thanks to @PoppyWriter (so sorry if that's not the user) for the critiques!)

You walk into the theatre, scanning the crowd to see if anybody you know is there. There’s still time before the show starts. It’s a full house tonight, just like it was the last night, and the night before that. Glossy program clutched in one hand, you make your way down the carpeted steps and find your row. “Excuse me”-ing and “coming through”-ing through the row of patient theatregoers already in their seats, you find your own seat, the number “31” on the arm matching the number printed on your ticket, and sink into the plush red cushion.
You take some time to survey the theatre around you. Its opulence would be intimidating to a first-time audience member, but to you, the high ceilings and wood-paneled walls feel like home. On stage, a dark blue velvet curtain is lowered, masking the magic behind. A spotlight cuts through the air, illuminating a spot on the stage where some philanthropist will likely give a speech about all the money they donated to make the Broadway production a possibility. Below the stage, the orchestra is warming up, and you can hear snippets of the show tunes you’ve listened to on Spotify for weeks beforehand. Instruments tune and practice as people clamor in excitement, until the lights begin to dim. Everyone settles into their seats as the volume in the theatre falls to a hush. It’s beginning.
235 words

so this is going to be my sic proof thread now too

sic log sheet:

June 1
- journaled (+20 points, forgot to time so +0 minutes)
- practiced violin (+50 points, +31 minutes)
- cleaned my room (+70 points, +69 minutes)

June 2
- read the fellowship of the ring (+15 minutes)
- journaled (+10 minutes)

June 3
- read the fellowship of the ring (+10 points, +30 minutes)
- journaled (+15 minutes)

June 4
- read the fellowship of the ring (+40 minutes)
- worked on a drawing (+24 minutes)
- journaled briefly about my day (+6 minutes)

June 5
- practiced guitar for final project (+46 minutes)
- finished filling up a page in my sketchbook (+20 points, +13 minutes)
- made a healthy breakfast (+100 points)
- journaled (+14 minutes)

The week that fell into the void
- finished the Fellowship of the Ring (+90 points, not timed)

June 11
- practiced violin (+30 minutes)

(YEAH IM NOT UPDATING THIS ANYMORE I TRIED xP)

Hello and welcome to SIC June 2023's Activity Sheet!
Please quote this post so you have your own activity sheet in a reply, or alternatively copy and paste the contents of this post into your own. If you're just finding this sheet, take some time now to look it over and mark off a couple activities you want to complete.
We hope you enjoy the activities we have curated for you

Music Activities
10 points: Listen to a piece of classical music. Proof not applicable.
20 points: Listen to a song you’ve never heard before. Do you like it? What do you notice? Express your thoughts in any way you choose. Proof required.
30 points: Pick two countries, or choose randomly with an online generator. Make sure they’re on different continents! Look up and listen to a piece of music from each country. Compare and contrast the music in any way you choose. Proof optional.
40 points: Everything can make sound if you use it creatively enough! Make an entirely new instrument out of household items. Proof optional.
50 points: If you have access to an instrument, spend some time practicing on it. If not, look instruments you might like to have or think you could find a way to get. Proof not applicable.
60 points: Find a piece of music making equipment (instrument, app, etc) that you haven’t used before. Don’t look up how to use it. See what you can figure out by yourself! Proof not applicable.
70 points: Pair up with another SIC-er and create some sort of musical experience in collaboration. Proof required
80 points: Create a short playlist, about 5 songs, and post it on Scratch. You can download files and them upload them to a project, backpack them from another project to yours, or just post a list. Make sure all songs are appropriate for Scratch! Proof required.
90 points: Try your hand at writing your own music! You can do this in any way you like. Proof required.

Art Activities
10 points: Fill an entire page. It’s entirely up to you how you do this! Proof optional.
20 points: Create an artwork using something fibrous — yarn, string, fabric, an old piece of clothing. Proof required.
30 points: Try scribble art! Scribble random lines, and see what you can make out of them! Proof optional.
40 points: Create a colour palette, or randomly generate one with an online generator. Create an artwork inspired by this colour palette. Proof required.
50 points: Do you prefer making traditional art or digital art? If you prefer traditional art, try to draw in your traditional style with a digital art program. If you prefer digital art, try drawing in your digital style on paper! Proof required.
60 points: Make something out of paper. This could be origami, quilling (designs made with paper spirals), or anything you can think of. Proof required.
70 points: Choose a medium you don’t usually use and make something with it. Proof required.
80 points: Make an icon creator. It can be as simple or complex as you like. Proof required.
90 points: Start on June 1, and work on an artwork you add to little by little every day of camp. This art can be anything, so long as you work on it daily. Proof required.

Writing Activities
10 points: Set a timer for ten minutes at the most, and write the entire time. Don’t think about the story, just write. Proof optional.
20 points: Reflect on your day in writing. Proof not applicable (due to personal information)
30 points: Write a short story inspired by a song or lyric. Proof required.
40 points: Write poetry. Proof optional.
50 points: Look up a random word generator and generate 3-5 words. Incorporate these words into a short writing piece. Proof required.
60 points: Write fanfiction! Proof required.
70 points: Outline a scene, or a couple scenes, and then write them. Proof required.
80 points: Create an entirely new character and add as much detail and dynamic personality as you can. Proof required.
90 points: Start on June 1, and write in a journal or diary every day of session. You can write as much or little as you want, in any style, as long as you do it daily. Proof not applicable (due to personal information), but please be honest about this!

Reading Activities
10 points: Read anything you want! Proof not applicable.
20 points: Read something from your favourite genre. Proof not applicable.
30 points: Read something from your least favourite genre. Proof not applicable.
40 points: Ask a friend or sibling for a book recommendation and read some of it! Proof not applicable.
50 points: Read a couple chapters of a scratch comic. Proof not applicable.
60 points: Is there something you’re curious about? Research it and read about it. Proof not applicable.
70 points: Read a non-fiction book. Proof not applicable.
80 points: Read something another SIC-er has written and give them feedback! Make sure they want the feedback first. Proof required.
90 points: Read an entire novel during SIC. Only counts if you started and finished it in June! Proof not applicable, but please be honest!

Coding Activities
10 points: Investigate the purposes of blocks you’re unfamiliar with. Proof not applicable.
20 points: Use a block or script you’ve never used before. Proof optional.
30 points: Look at an old project of yours, or someone else’s if you don’t have any. Make sure it isn’t too complicated. Now, without looking at the original project’s code, try to replicate it. How close did you come? Proof optional.
40 points: Code something using a Scratch tutorial, or a tutorial another Scratcher made. Proof optional.
50 points: What do you know about other programming languages? Pick one and research it. Share a couple similarities and differences between Scratch and the programming language of your choice. Proof required.
60 points: Code a project that makes use of variables. Proof optional.
70 points: Code something that helps you with a task you need to complete. Proof optional.
80 points: Make a tutorial on how to code something on Scratch. Proof required.
90 points: Code any project you’d like and share it with us! Proof required.

Self-Care Activities
10 points: Change up your nightly routine to get more than 10 hours of sleep tonight <3 Proof not applicable.
20 points: Set aside 20 minutes to take a nap. Even if you don’t succeed in falling asleep, stay there and let your mind and body relax. Proof not applicable.
30 points: Create a routine goal and try to stick to it for the next week. Proof (in the form of sharing the goal and whether you managed it) optional.
40 points: Spend about an hour with absolutely no screen time. Instead, do something creative, active, or collaborative. Proof optional.
50 points: Practice mindfulness. Set aside all distractions and take a few deep breaths. How do you feel right now, physically and emotionally? Why do you feel this way? What’s around you? Is there anything your mind won’t stop wandering to? Proof not applicable.
60 points: Express your emotions in a safe way of your choice. Proof optional.
70 points: Spend a good amount of time cleaning your room. If you don’t have much to clean up, ask a family member if they have any chores you could help with. Proof not applicable.
80 points: Try a guided meditation. Proof not applicable.
90 points: Make yourself a healthy, delicious meal from scratch. No instant noodles or kraft dinner allowed! Be sure you have permission from a parent, and if possible, have someone around to help you if you need it. Proof optional.

Outdoor Activities
10 points: Go on a short walk in nature, or spend some time at a park. Proof not applicable.
20 points: Find a tree or plant near you and try to identify it using a field guide or online resource. Record what you think it is and tell us. Remember not to touch or eat any plant unless you’re positive it’s safe to do so! Further proof not applicable.
30 points: What is something in the natural world you want to learn more about? Do some research, and share a couple facts with SIC-ers. Proof required (the facts count).
40 points: Recruit at least two people to join you in an outdoor activity of your choice! Proof not applicable.
50 points: Make a leaf rubbing! This is where you stick a leaf under a sheet of paper and rub firmly on the paper with a pencil or crayon. The patterns of the leaf should reveal themselves on the paper. If it’s winter where you live, try rubbing a stick or piece of bark. Proof required.
60 points: Get some exercise! Do something active outside for as long as you can. How do you feel after? Proof not applicable.
70 points: Have a ball around? Lots of games use them. Invent your own! Proof optional.
80 points: Go outside and record what you notice with each sense (but don’t taste things unless you’re sure it’s safe to do so!). Do this every couple days, and see if you notice any patterns. Proof required.
90 points: Start a nature journal! You can include basically anything in it. Flowers you’ve gathered and maybe tried to identify, lists of animals you’ve seen, descriptions of the weather, anything! Proof required, although be careful not to give anything away about your location!

Inspiring Others Activities
10 points: Smile at everyone you see today. Proof not applicable.
20 points: What is a piece of advice that has helped you a lot? Pass it on to someone you know, or share it with other SIC-ers. Proof not applicable.
30 points: Find a friend and work on homework, writing, art, or anything else together. Be sure to keep each other accountable! Proof not applicable.
40 points: Go to a project you really enjoyed and let the creator know what you think of it! Proof optional.
50 points: Write a thank-you note to someone you appreciate. Explain why you appreciate them and the impact they’ve had on you. Proof optional.
60 points: Write a kind message on a piece of paper and hide it somewhere in public for a stranger to find. You could hide it at school, at your local library or community centre, or anywhere else you can think of. Proof not applicable.
70 points: Give someone a handmade gift. Proof not applicable.
80 points: Do something small you think will have a positive impact on your community. Proof not applicable.
90 points: Be a mentor to someone. Do you have younger siblings, or know any younger kids in your area? Find someone who wants help with something you’re good at and see what you can do for them. Proof not applicable.

In addition to these, each time you complete either all activities in one section, or one activity from each section, you gain one hundred more points! Also, if you share proof of an activity where proof is optional, you get ten extra points

My short playlist:

- people are strange (the doors)
- rihannon (fleetwood mac)
- wonder (natalie merchant)
- life itself (glass animals)
- parachutes (coldplay)
- iris (u2)
- aurora (foo fighters)

main cabin daily - July 1, 2023
“Our first challenge is for you to introduce yourself in the main cabin comments – by describing yourself as an ice cream sundae. What flavours make up your character?”

Salutations! For those who don’t yet know me, I’m Stingray, I use she/her pronouns, and I live in the eastern time zone. I’m left-handed, blond-haired, and nearsighted to a ridiculous degree. My favorite colors are purple and dark green and I love food too much to pick just one favorite dish. I lowered my word goal significantly this session due to activity reasons, however just for kicks and giggles I’m going to try for the 1k-word about me.
July 2023 will be my sixth (wow, has it really been that many?!?) session participating in SWC. I first joined in November 2021, when my friends Soki (@Rey_venclaw) and Luna (@Luna-Lovegood-LOL) led a cabin together and convinced me, along with the Star Wars roleplay I then headed, to sign up. That session, I was in Fairy Tales with @Bellevue91 and @bixez. I was far from the active camper, but November ‘21 did get me interested in future sessions of SWC.
In March 2022, I applied for coleader, but initially did not get accepted. I was sorted into Thriller (led by @26friedland, @xc-egg, and @suburban-darkness), and quickly discovered I’d underestimated my word goal. When Fenn (@suburban-darkness) had to go on an unexpected hiatus, I was asked to step in for her and I agreed. March 2022 was my first session being fully involved in the SWC community, and it’s one I fondly look back on.
I was unable to actually be a camper or leader in July 2022 because of real life commitments, but I was an honorary for Neon Horror, led by Luna. I helped with graphic design and the plotline, and had a blast.
November 2022 was my first session coleading from the start. I remember thinking my application was terrible, then being overjoyed when I received an offer from Soki. November 2022 is one of my favorite sessions so far - I loved our cabin plotline and I thought we all came together to pull everything off really nicely. Also in November 2022, I met my fellow coleader Skye (@strange_skies), who has become one of my best friends.
I lead a cabin for the very first time in March 2023. I led poetry, with the idea of open mics for campers to share their own poetry. My two coleaders were Jasper (@IvyCreations) and Aspen (@-limeade). I became really good friends with both of them through that session and I’m very grateful for that. Honestly, I feel insecure about my success with the poetry cabin and I’m not sure if I did a good job leading or not.
July 2023 will be my first session as a camper in a long while, and I’m looking forward to it. I think it’s a good idea to be both a leader and a camper.
When I’m not writing, I have a variety of other hobbies, most notably reading, art, and music. Though I’ve read embarrassingly little this summer, I’ve always loved to read. It’s impossible for me to pick a favorite book, but I’m currently captivated by the Lord of the Rings trilogy, which I am slowly but surely working my way through.
I’m also an artist! I really started drawing seriously around three years ago, first focusing in on traditional art and collages then moving to digital art. I love traditional art and digital art equally and for different reasons - there are aspects of both that can’t be replicated by the other (though I must say I am especially fond of the undo button in Procreate xD). I’m always trying to improve my art and push myself in new stylistic directions!
Music is basically my life. As well as loving many different genres and artists, I have been playing the violin for nine years now. I started doing orchestra seven years ago. Orchestra is one of my favorite activities I do. Music is an escape for me, and I don’t know where I’d be without it. I’m also in a chamber group with some of my close orchestra friends and we do Cool Stuff (™) like irl camp counseling at a beginner strings camp. This March, I was in the orchestra pit for a local theatre production, which was an absolute blast. Hopefully I’ll get to do that again sometime.
I’m not coordinated enough for sports that involve throwing, catching, or kicking, but I swim and mountain bike. I’m not particularly fast at swimming and I’m a decent mountain biker, but for both of those I participate to have a good time and get some exercise. I tried cross country but quit after three weeks because I hate running (I do like walking my dog and taking hikes though!!).
Sadly, I’m not going to be as active this month as I have been in past sessions. Because of a trip to visit my mom’s side of the family and an international trip with my dad’s side of the family, I’m going to be offline quite often. However, I want to try to enjoy the month and all that it brings, relax, and avoid spending too much time on a screen. My goal for the month is to work on a fanfiction I’ve been planning, instead of being super active and doing every daily. I think that’ll be more healthy for me.
Finally, I think it is due time for my ice cream sundae description. My sundae would be in a bowl, representative of my need to keep things routine and under some semblance of control. At the bottom would be a brownie, because under everything I do my best to be a solid person and stable friend. The sundae would be composed of black raspberry ice cream, showing how I aspire to be mature and eloquent while still keeping a fun spirit. Gooey hot fudge sauce would be drizzled generously on top, for no reason other than that it’s gooey hot fudge sauce. A mountain of whipped cream would convey how I love to be lighthearted and fun, and finally, mini dark chocolate chips would garnish the top because I am a chocolate fiend.

1019 words

main cabin daily - july 2, 2023
“Somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind, regurgitate five random words into the comment section. Now, gobble down somebody else's five random words and write 300 words using those delicious words as a prompt to earn 200 points! Sharing the daily you wrote with those scrumptious vomitted words will allow you to slurp up an extra 50 points.”

the five words I regurgitated were crucify, starstruck, alabaster, malady, and winged; the five words I used were @-evermorexx's shadows, freckles, dusk, portal, and spy
-
Now that it’s over, I keep coming back to how it started,
Reliving those memories over and over again like a movie I’ve seen a million times,
Still trying, though I know every scene by heart, to find where it went wrong
What I did wrong

Do you remember?
The day you moved in, and I stared out my window into yours,
Watching your life like some sort of spy, then
Jumping away from the windowpane when I caught your eye,
Only to notice you repeating the cycle moments later
And the day you finally said hello, when I was out walking the dog,
Because you’d memorized my routine just like I had yours

Is it worth nothing now
The way I memorized the patterns of your freckles
The way we danced together at dusk, casting shadows taller and stronger than the hoping, ambitious teens we were then
The way I stared into your eyes,
Deep blue portals framed by dark lashes,
The way it felt like I could see the whole cosmos in them

And am I wasting my breath
On calling for you to come back
On endless apologies, fluttering into the wind, unheard?

Because as the petrichor of my dried tears fills the room with the scent of sadness, regret, and longing for something that will never be,
Yours smells of something blooming, growing, beginning anew,
And every time I see your silhouette watching the sunrise on your porch,
A faint outline of my shadow is there too,
A remnant of the togetherness we used to have.

And as I’ve stayed here, a broken record repeating the same song over and over again, you’ve moved on
You go about your life
Keeping the curtains in your window shut so you don’t have to look me in the eye
Acting like it doesn’t matter
Nothing matters
I don’t matter
To you

312 words

main cabin (bi)daily - July 3, 2023
“Pick a ”chunk“ of your favorite piece of existing media (it can be anything, as long as there's a plotline!) and consider the pacing and flow, how the ideas was connected. With that in mind, choose two of the bi-fi prompts from the comments here and incorporate them into a rewrite of your ”chunk“ of the original media.”
I chose the prompts “everyone’s asleep and are interacting in a shared dreamworld” (@Rey_venclaw) and “plants are sentient beings” (@Mossflower29)
My scene I'm rewriting is from Little Shop of Horrors - I don't remember the play perfectly, but I'm pretty sure there's a scene where Seymour's trying to type something and Audrey keeps going “FEED ME.”

Seymour sat at his typewriter. The article he was writing needed to be turned in tomorrow, and would fetch a pretty paycheck, if he could manage to get it done. It was awfully slow going - the cuts on his fingers smarted painfully whenever he hit a key, and he wasn’t a very fast typist to begin with. He regretted waiting so long to start the article, but no matter; he’d get it done. If he could stay awake.
Seymour wondered how long it would be till the world figured out he wasn’t the genius botanist they made him out to be; that he didn’t know squat about exotic plants other than the one that had inexplicably gifted itself to him; that all his sudden success was due to a flytrap feeding off Seymour’s own blood. It was quite the unstable situation.

“I don’t trust her, you know.”
Seymour sat up with a jolt. “Who said that?”
“That Audrey Two, she’s bad news.”
Seymour looked around him, too terrified to move from his chair. The plants - not Audrey Two, he was used to her jabbering by now, but the flowers on the shelves - were talking!
“S-she’s not that bad once you get to know her!” he defended. “And without her, the plant store would be closed by now. You should be more grateful.”
“Grateful?” A camellia snorted. “You’d be suspicious of her too if you’d heard what she says when she thinks no one is listening.”
“Yeah,” added a tiger lily, “she’s always spouting nonsense about how ‘it’s all going according to plan’ and ‘just a few more days now.’ It’s freaky.”
“It’s not nonsense,” cautioned the camellia. “Like I said, I have a bad feeling about that plant.”
A plan? What plan? “If Audrey has a plan, all it is is to help the store,” Seymour said, but his heart wasn’t in it.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” a marigold said ruefully.
A fern twisted its fronds in concern. “Look at you, Seymour! There’s only so much blood a person can give! How much longer can this go on?”
The plants were right. Audrey had brought him fame and fortune, but at what cost?
“I have to end this,” Seymour said, both to himself and the plants surrounding him. The plants nodded in agreement, and Seymour felt his resolve strengthen. He knew what he needed to do.

Seymour woke up with a groan. It was the middle of the night; he must’ve drifted off while trying to finish the article. Not only had the typewriter left an uncomfortable red imprint on his cheek, drool had gotten onto the paper and made the ink bleed - he’d have to retype that whole page.

Suddenly, Seymour felt the atmosphere in the room change. To anyone but him, it would have been imperceptible. The leaves of the giant flytrap behind him stiffened, and Seymour knew what Audrey Two was about to say before she even opened her mouth.
“Feed me.”
“N-now Twoie,” Seymour said, “it’s late. I’m tired. Maybe tomorrow.”
“You said that yesterday!” The plant whined. “I’m hungry. Feed me.”
Seymour remembered the promise he’d made to the plants. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he replied.
“Oh, Seymour,” Audrey said, her voice sickly sweet, “you don’t really believe what those flowers told you?”
“No, of course not!”
“I only want to help the store. I only want to help you!”
“I know you do,” Seymour stammered, already feeling his resolve crumbling.
“Without me, you’d be nothing. Nobody. But look at everything you have now! Business is booming. Mushnik loves you. The original Audrey loves you. You’re a hero. All because of me.
“But I can’t keep helping you if I’m starving to death. Look how dull and wilted my leaves are!”
Seymour took a look. Audrey’s leaves were green and glossy as ever, but he was too scared to say it.
“If not for you, do it for Mushnik. For Audrey.”
Seymour stood up. “Fine!” He shouted, trembling. “Just this once.”
Resigned, he took a pair of gardening shears and slashed a cut in his hand. As Audrey lapped the blood up and hummed, satisfied, Seymour tried to reassure himself.
It was just a little blood. What could it hurt?

709 words

Lol too busy to format rn

Sleep

Roger:
Roger doesn’t sleep as much as he should, but not by choice. His anxiety keeps him up most of the time and once he’s awake, it’s really hard for him to fall back asleep. He refuses to take naps during the day, so often he’s tired. If he has to, though, he will take a Power Nap before a big gig or something.

Grant:
Grant always manages to get enough sleep, but never at conventional times. He is a big fan of taking naps, and will often take a two hour nap after work, stay up until 2 am, then wake up at 7 the next morning. Grant is a High Energy Boi™️, so even if he doesn’t manage to get enough rest he will act totally normal until he crashes.

Annabelle:
Annabelle is very responsible about going to bed at a normal time, unless she has a big school project due or is on vacation (or some other extenuating circumstance). Recently, though, she’s been having recurring nightmares that keep her up.

Sloane:
Sloane has the worst sleep schedule out of her siblings. She is balancing a job, law school, and being in charge of Roger and Annabelle, so in between those two things there’s not much time for anything else, including sleep. Sloane lives for the weekends where she can catch up on sleep. She also drinks a lot of coffee.

Althea:
Althea used to have trouble falling asleep because of anxiety, but she’s learned strategies to deal with that and can almost always get to sleep without trouble. She is a very light sleeper, though, so is often woken up by people moving around. On missions, she naturally ends up with less sleep than she would like. She also sometimes volunteers to take the night watch so the Padawans can sleep. She has a lot of trouble sleeping during space flights, so she will sometimes take sleeping aids then. Althea sleeps best in a real bed but has learned to sleep anywhere.

Leo:
Leo would have a great sleep schedule, but stays up on their phone way too late. That makes her tired and after she puts her phone away it’s still hard for them to fall asleep because of the blue light. He sets an alarm for the morning and almost always wakes up without a problem, although this sleep schedule does lead to some nasty headaches. As long as he gets to sleep in on the weekends she’s usually fine.

Tess:
Tess doesn’t need to sleep because she’s Built Different™️ (but for real, her magic makes it so that instead of sleeping, she can just recharge by zoning out).


Pirate Stingray:
She never manages to get a full 8-10 hours of sleep, but she sleeps enough to function. Being a pirate, she’s learned to sleep basically anywhere. She’s a moderately deep sleeper though, so often she won’t fall asleep unless she’s sure she’s safe, or someone else is on hand to wake her up in an emergency.

Octavia:
Octavia rarely sleeps. His magic helps xem function without sleep, although the sleep deprivation leads to rapid mood changes and Octavia being more grumpy than xe already are. Octavia considers sleep a waste of time. Whenever Octavia is with Sean, he sometimes feels safe enough to take a much needed nap.

Sean:
In contrast to Octavia, Sean has quite the healthy sleep schedule. Other than late nights at their job and movie nights with Octavia, Sean doesn’t like to stay up late. They are more of a night owl than an early bird, though, and can’t function early in the morning. They lucid dream, but when they’re not in a dream they are a very deep sleeper.

621 words (I got 6 hours of sleep)

Rehearsal 1

Rehearsal

How am I supposed to write and express who I am when I don’t even know?? At this point in life, I’m supposed to have some idea of who I want to be. Family members ask me if I’ve thought about colleges. My dad tries to impress on me the colleges he wants me to go to (and the ones he doesn’t). Mountain biking coaches try to set up plans for race training, and talk to me about being a professional racer. Everyone I meet through violin talks about music school, colleges and conservatories, the benefits of smaller schools. Even my own mom won’t leave me alone - on car rides she asks me about my criteria and touts the benefits of liberal arts schools and studying abroad.
When will not knowing be enough?
When will just doing what I love be enough?
When will being a teenager be enough?
Can’t I just be enough, as I am?
It’s one of the things that lives in the back of my brain, that whispers to me at night when everything else is quiet, one of the things that makes me cry when I think nobody is listening.
Because I’m afraid it’s not enough.

-

When an image enters your eyes, the lens flips it upside down. Rods and cones interpret the color, and the auditory nerve brings the picture to your brain, where it is flipped right side up and interpreted. But your visual system lies to you. It changes the colors of things; it shows you what you want to see. Meaning: Your eyes can’t be trusted.

“That’s cool, Jordan… we all cared…”
She can’t be trusted either. Her innocent eyes make her seem to teachers a dumb, somewhat naive and surface-level student, everyone’s favorite, star athlete, popular.
She is a snake. She lies to you.
Once, her lies wrapped around me, their smoke almost choking me and swallowing me whole. Once, my eyes didn’t see what was really there.
That was before she got caught cheating on the semester final the first time. Or the second and third times. That was before she came to sit at our table, since her off-and-on friends had begun to see through the spell she’d cast on them. That was before I realized how she was talking to me - refusing to meet my eyes unless she needed a favor; talking down to me even though I have gone farther already than she ever will.
But sometimes I wonder if she’s right, that nobody cares what I say. Peoples’ eyes lie to them when they look at me too. To them, am I nothing more than the new girl? The smart girl? The one who will let you copy her homework? The weird one?
There are so many parts of me I’ve learned to hide. I am a collage, a bunch of ripped up pieces smashed into something beautiful - something presentable - for the world to see. I’m afraid that if I talk too much, laugh too loudly, or wear the wrong thing, they’ll hate me just like I hate her.
My eyes lie to me, too; they lie to me until I don’t know what’s real and what’s the voice in my head screaming that I’ll never, ever, be good enough.
Do I not care about what they think, or is that just another lie?

565 words

main cabin daily - July 12, 2023

(Horror Funhouse)
Above your head, the storm intensifies. Lightning crackles ominously, illuminating the sky with its jagged white streaks. You need to get out of this storm, and soon. The closest shelter to you is the carnival’s funhouse, its entrance beckoning to you like a gaping mouth about to swallow its prey whole. You cautiously enter, and as soon as you do a blurred figure dashes toward you and tackles you, knocking you into a side passage.
“That was close,” they whisper. The side passage is better lit, and you can now see that they’re one of the carnies, their red-and-white striped vest now bedraggled.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” they say gravely. “It’s not safe here.”
Sensing your confusion, they add: “The funhouse is not all that it seems. Something sinister is lurking here, and it is hungry.”
Wide-eyed, you try to run out the way you came in, but the exit has been blocked.
You are trapped.

157 words

Main cabin daily - July 13, 2023
Flower daily

Pansy - you occupy my thoughts
Daisy - innocence
Dandelion - faithfulness
Rose - love
Marigold - grief
Zinnia - thoughts of absent friends

I don’t remember how we met, just the flowers in her hair: pansies, velvety and purple, their thin green stems twisting in and out of the braid in her hair. She watched me intently, brown eyes peeking out from the wall of blooms that shielded them.
I don’t remember how we met, but she does. She says I threw up and she gave me a hug. And the rest was history.

She knew how to make daisy crowns, and taught me; plucking the flowers from her own hair and twisting them into a wreath of youthful light and life. I did the same with my matching daisies (all our flowers matched back then), and the two of us ran willy-nilly around the fields, our matching crowns naming us princesses of our small kindergarten world. We’d play for hours that way, laughing and shouting, happy as ever because the only thing that mattered to us was each other.

My mom liked to weed, and hers didn’t, and in the summer when the dandelion stalks grew tall and strong we’d pluck them from their perches in their yard. As the summer drew on the smiling yellow faces grew wispy and white, and we’d blow the fluff into the wind with our sugar-sweet wishes. We didn’t need anything else back then, because as far as we were concerned it would take the end of the world to tear us apart. I never told her what I wished for, and she didn’t ask, but it ran unspoken between us that we hoped it could stay this way forever.

She came to play at my house one afternoon, and while hanging from a tree (it was easy, I said; I did it all the time) her grip slipped. Her fall was cushioned by the knockout roses in my yard, and as I patched up her bloody knee I saw on her face an expression not of pain, but of wonder. As she sat in the middle of the rosebushes, her hair sprouted blooms to match. No roses that ever grew from her hair were ever that big or glossy, she tells me, and I know it’s true because my roses are just the same.

She moved away three years ago. I havent seen her since. On the night she left, I baked her cookies and sat (six feet away) on her front porch, exchanging goodbyes and making promises to come visit sometime. I pretended to be happy for her, and the ‘better opportunities’ the new state would bring, but there was no hiding the marigold petals that fell, orange and gold as the setting sun, from my shoulder-length hair (we’d donated ours together the previous year).

Every friend since her has felt like a faded copy, close but not good enough to the glory of our childhood spent together. Her new friends have snipped the blossoms from her deep brown hair and brushed it till it is shines, and despite her now-straightened teeth her smile doesn’t look as real as it once did. Does she miss me? Does she still think about me?
When she called me on the phone, sniffling, to tell me about the loss of her flowers, I snipped off a few of mine, pink zinnias, and mailed them to her. They now sit in the flowerbox outside her bedroom window (she sends me pictures), trying to thrive in the thin mountain air. Her own flowers are desperate to grow back, but she trims them before they can bud, out of either fear and a desire to fit in. Until she is ready for them to regrow, I send her mine, almost always those zinnias. They can remind her of me. Until I see her again.

624 words

warhol ☼ a swc leader application

─────────☼about me and experience
Hello there! (General Kenobi *finger guns*) I’m Stingray, I use she/her pronouns, and I live in EST. I’m a writer (duh), artist, violinist, and fandom fanatic.
When not on Scratch, I participate in a myriad of extracurriculars. I swim for my school in the winter, and mountain bike competitively in the fall. I’m a pretty good mountain biker and a downright terrible swimmer, but I have a ton of fun with both sports. This year, I’m trying quiz bowl for the first time.
I’ve played violin for at least nine years, and have been in an orchestra for seven of those nine. Violin is my favorite activity, and playing music is an escape for me. I’m currently learning the Kabalevsky violin concerto in C. As well as playing music, I enjoy listening to music, and my list of favorite songs, artists, and genres is far too expansive to fit here xD
If the theme of this application didn’t make it clear enough, I love art. I do both digital and traditional art and Andy Warhol is one of my favorite artists and inspirations. I’m always working on improving my art and I’m only now after many years getting to a point where I’m happy with my style.
Some of my fandoms include Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Gravity Falls, The Owl House, and Stranger Things. I read a lot and couldn’t pick a favorite book if I was being held at gunpoint.
I’m always trying new things; right now I’m learning how to play the guitar, bake bread, and hopefully how to screen print (I signed up for a class but got waitlisted :sob!

Experience! I’ve been doing SWC since November 2021, when my friends Soki and Luna led Thriller together and convinced me to sign up. I was a camper in both November ‘21 and July ‘23, and both sessions I regret to say I was rather inactive. In March ‘22, I applied to be coleader for the first time, and initially didn’t get accepted, but then when one of my cabin’s cos went on an unexpected hiatus I was chosen to take over. In November ‘22 I coled the Bi-Fi Cinema, my favorite SWC session to date. And in
March of this year, I led a cabin for the first time: Poetry Coffeehouse! It was a challenging and wonderful experience leading and one I hope to get to do again. In July of 2022, I was an honorary for the infamous Neon Horror, where I broke nearly every honorary rule and had a blast doing it.
Outside of Scratch, I’ve had tons of experience both writing and leading. I babysit often, and I think I’m a good babysitter, since the parents keep hiring me… I’ve also been a real-life camp counselor for a strings camp two years in a row - being a part of SWC really prepared me for the leadership needs that camp entailed. I hold a leadership role in the mountain biking community which I cannot explain further due to personal information, and for years I’ve been helping my mom with her Girl Scout Troop.
I’ve been writing as long as I can remember, and I won’t claim to be outstanding at it but writing is something I love and something that helps me relieve stress. My favorite genre to write would have to be Bi-Fi - I find the combination of the worldly and the out-of-this-world so fun to create. Recently I’ve taken up poetry as an anxiety management tool.

─────────☼ genres and activity
As always, I would be overjoyed to lead any cabin and could come up with a storyline for whichever I led. That being said, I do have a plan in mind for the Horror cabin: the Horror Funhouse. In this cabin, campers would get stuck inside a carnival’s funhouse and have to navigate through mirror mazes and battle creepy clowns to escape. This storyline could also work well with Thriller or Bi-Fi if need be.
Leading The Cabin That Will Not Win is something I am interested in, however I don’t think TCTWNW and my Horror storyline plan would work well together so if I did end up in TCTWNW I’d prefer it to be for another genre ^^
So far, this school year has been pretty light on homework, so I should be able to dedicate lots of time to writing and leading. I’ll be most busy in the months before the session starts: the biking season will be in full swing, and that will take up most of my weekends. I’ll be able to get online to plan after school every day and sometimes briefly at lunch or before I go to bed.
When November actually starts, I’ll have much more free time. I will have swim practices every day, but they will be late in the evening (which is good because it’ll help me keep a sleep schedule!). I don’t know yet when my team will be able to get pool time, but last year it was from 9-10pm every day except Fridays when it was from 3:15-4pm. I’ll have meets some Saturday mornings and (very rarely) right after school. I will also have orchestra rehearsal Monday evenings, violin lessons Thursday afternoons, and quiz bowl briefly after school each Tuesday. Last year I had this same schedule and could manage it along with SWC, and I am confident I can do the same this session. However, if my busy schedule makes me a bad fit for leader, I understand.

─────────☼excerpt
Unspoken Rule #1
-
Unspoken Rule #1
is don’t get mad
not at sister, or family
or anyone really
Repressed, my anger only stews
grows more potent
(some crappy Jedi I’d make)
till inevitably, volcanically, it
rises to the
surface (Unspoken Rule #1 is
broken)

longer (sorta bad but i'm too lazy to change what it says in the slides) excerpt: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6766462/

─────────☼skills and shortcomings in time management and leadership
Time management:
Skill - I can prioritize well and balance my homework and activities with leading.
Shortcoming - procrastination. ‘Nuff said. (Seriously though I am actively trying to work on this one)
Skill - I am motivated and dedicated to finish something once I’ve started it and can usually finish it quickly.

Leadership:
Skill - I can choose my battles. I know when to stick to what I think is best and when to compromise or go with someone else’s idea.
Shortcoming - I sometimes accidentally take on too much and put too much pressure on myself to finish it all.
Skill - I’m a very positive person and can bring out the best qualities in my leading team.
Skill and shortcoming? I’m a perfectionist. This is good because it means I turn out excellent work product, but bad because it can make things take too long to do and makes me more stressed about things/turn molehills into mountains.

I would be an asset to the leadership team because I am flexible and adaptable, and could find a role in which I am helpful no matter my place in SWC leadership. I can be mature and responsible while still maintaining a sense of levity, a quality I find vital to any leadership position. I am dedicated to what I do and always eager to help out. In fact, wanting to help others grow and be a part of something bigger is why I joined SWC in the first place.

─────────☼quality i admire most
I don’t know what to call the quality I embody most in a leader, but it’s the ability to make the other members of a team feel valued. I would never want my coleaders to think their ideas are bad or that it’s “my way or the highway.” SWC wouldn’t be possible without the contributions of many, many people and nobody should feel like the part they play is lesser.
I try to embody this quality by always asking my cos for input, and compromising to use their ideas, even if I also had my own. I try to help where needed outside of my cabin and I make sure that I am never putting anybody down even if I am correcting them on something - and if someone asks a question, as I answer I assure them that it’s not a dumb question (no question is).

─────────☼ atmosphere and checkboxes
“Horror's atmosphere would be one of community, with group challenges designed to gain words and bring members closer together. We'd aim to be competitive but prioritize camper health.” (184 characters)

Checkboxes:
I will be available to help add points in the main cabin consistently during camp. check! (i'll do my best lol)

I’m willing to share a promotional project for SWC. check!

Are there any leadership responsibilities you cannot fulfill? None that I can see :D

In the case of inactive leadership, what steps will you take?
If I have to go inactive, I will beforehand alert the hosts and my leadership team. I’ll promote one of my cos to leader (if that’s allowed; fortunately I’ve never had to do anything like this before) and have my cos choose a new coleader. If one of my cos goes inactive, I will either distribute their campers
between the remaining word count groups (if my cabin uses WCGs) or choose a new coleader. If I am a co and my leader goes inactive I will discuss with the hosts and my fellow co(s) to determine the course of action, and until one is decided I will be active and helpful in my own cabin and do my best to keep the plotline going.

─────────☼the end! thank you for reading, and happy swseason <3

november 1, 2023 - 1k word intro

Hello and welcome to my attempt at the one-thousand-word intro challenge! I’m not totally sure why I do this anymore because most people who read my writing thread know who I am, and it makes me feel like I’m talking too much about myself, but hEre we are anyway… wish me luck.
Online I’m a totally different person than I am in the real world. I suppose that’s because in the real world, throwing your entire heart into things, freaking about fandoms, and having zero filter (and being openly LGBTQ+ I suppose) tends to get you made fun of. One of the reasons I love this little community so much is because it feels more like a family than any of my irl friend groups ever have been. Only here have I met people who share my interests and my level of fangirliness about them. Without this website I’d be so much further back artistically, as an author, and lets be honest as a person. The internet is a wild, wild place but sometimes it’s wonderful too.
I think “organized chaos” is the perfect term to describe me, although anyone who saw the state of my room right now wouldn’t agree with the “organized” part. I do my best to get good grades despite school usually being a waste of time and energy, and I participate in sports and extracurriculars even if I’m terrible at them. I’ve been an avid reader all my life but school (cough cough waste of time cough cough) generally keeps me too busy to read as much as I’d like. Asking for a favorite book is a form of cruel and unusual punishment but since everyone wants to know, I’d say Circe by Madeline Miller, Ready Player One by Ernest Cline, the Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab, and of course the Lord of the Rings trilogy by Tolkien.
I also watch a lot of TV - my favorite movies are the Star Wars saga, particularly A New Hope; the Lord of the Rings trilogy again (my favorite of both the books and the movies is The Two Towers if you were wondering); WALL-e; and the old animated Robin Hood (laugh all you want).
I swim, mountain bike, and do quiz bowl, but we all know music is the true love of my life. I’ve been playing violin for nineish years and would like to say I’m pretty good but honestly have no idea because my sense of self-perception is quite out of whack. Regardless of skill, I love playing the violin more than almost anything and the piece I’m currently learning is the Kabalevsky violin concerto. My favorite piece of classical music is Rhapsody in Blue by Gershwin but unfortunately that’s a clarinet piece and I’m not about to start playing a spit instrument just for that.
Not only am I a classical music aficionado, I am utterly in love with music of every type. I’ve been surrounded by music my whole life and am very lucky to live in a location with an incredible live music scene. I have trouble coming up with a singular genre I listen to or even a favorite artist but I /am/ utterly obsessed with Queen. As a matter of fact I saw them live recently which was the greatest experience of my entire life, and I’m sure everyone is tired of hearing me talk about it but I doubt I’ll slow down anytime soon. Over the summer I started learning guitar, which has been a ton of fun, and significantly less stressful than violin: I don’t hold myself to impossibly high standards when I’m playing guitar, and it’s something that is just for me rather than for other people’s enjoyment.
This November will be my seventh session participating in SWC. My first was November 2021, where I was a rather inactive Fairy Tales camper. I applied for coleader for the first time in March 2022, and didn’t initially get accepted, but ended up coleading Thriller when one of its cos had to go on an unexpected hiatus. I was an honorary in July 2022 - this was before the honorary rules were put in place and I had a blast but in no way adhered to the current honorary guidelines. In November of that year I was a coleader, March 2023 a leader, and July 2023 a camper once again. Now, I’m leading a cabin for the second time and hope I can measure up.
If I’m being totally honest, I’m not proud of my writing skills. Yes, I can write well enough to please an English teacher, but I’m not eloquent. My writing doesn’t make people feel anything. Hopefully, by focusing on quality over quantity this month I’ll be able to create something I am proud of.
I have two hundred more words to go and I’m running out of steam, so I’ll mention another love of my life: Food. I have an enormous sweet tooth, almost exclusively for chocolate. I’m not a huge candy person, but I’ll go feral over baked goods (especially if they include chocolate.) My favorite meal would have to be tofu pad thai - I’m pescatarian and love some well cooked tofu. I first tried pad thai this summer during a Lord of the Rings marathon and fell in love at first sight. However, if I were to have one last meal before I die, it would be a sandwich I had while I was in Switzerland this summer. It had brie, lettuce, pear, and walnuts, and I’d like to eat it one last time before I bite the dust.
That’s about it! There’s no possible way you enjoyed reading a thousand-word infodump about me, but if you at least made it to the end, I congratulate you. There are so many cooler people in this camp and I encourage you to go find and read /their/ 1k intro challenges. In the meantime, have a day that’s as lovely as you are <3

1001 words
new total 1072