I really liked the tone and setting of the story my literal first thought upon reading this was “wow this person is depressed”. I don’t really know what part of the novel this will be in, but if it’s like the beginning (which I assume it is since this is a great cold open), then I feel like the last sentence is a little out of place since it seems like the story will end right then and there. I don’t really know what you’re going for here since some parts are extremely depressed and brooding, while at other times it’s the main character considering methods of transportation, and then picking one. Then the story kind of just continues, and while it is nice for a few times since you really begin to feel the characters thoughts and their depression, other times it just feels like “ok well that happened I guess.” I think this only happens with the transportation to school part but nice to keep in mind. Maybe it just didn’t have the same wording as the rest of the story. Other than that it was really good! Maybe a few minor things that broke the immersion for me such as the mix apparently not sleeping for weeks (I think world record was like 12 and the guy basically died from that) and some word choices that seemed a bit off/contradictory (they’re scrolling videos that are extremely happy, then describing it as lives falling apart). The perspective was really great for this story and the overall setting of the story matched perfectly. The mc’s thoughts and actions (especially with the note) along with the descriptors line up so well together and overall I really liked it . I had to get extremely nitpicky to find any flaws here, and I think the only one I can say should probably be changed would be the last sentences feeling a bit too final (but again I don’t really know where in the novel this is). Definitely reading the next paragraphs if you post them!

326 words

Persuasive Essay (first draft)
The rise of generative AI has harmed the creativity and work spaces of artistic fields, demeaning art as a whole. In the first half of this paper, I will discuss how AI has led to the prioritization of efficiency over meaning, diluting creativity for greed, and in the second half, I will go into detail about specific ways AI has been replacing genuine creativity within the artistic community.
In my research proposal, I mentioned a study conducted by Knowledge at Warton, which found that people using AI to generate ideas or help with generating ideas had interesting ideas, but not particularly unique ones. With artificially generated ideas valued significantly lower than human made ones, we run into a lot of issues with a lack of diversity in concepts as a whole. AI can “come up” with these ideas faster, but since it is merely predicting which word should come next based on datasets, the ideas are rarely original (Murray). The authors of a similar study found that humans outperform GPT-3 when it comes to original creative output (Habib). This same article mentions that the creative process of brainstorming comes with a fear of being negatively viewed by peers, which is why the author of this section believes that brainstorming with an AI partner could reduce this phenomenon. However, this directly contradicts both the earlier statement that humans outperform chatbots in terms of creativity, and the former study finding that using AI to generate ideas comes with more ideas, but a jarring lack of variety within them, meaning that choosing to brainstorm with an AI chatbot as opposed to a person will negatively harm the creative potential of the ideas.
In order to discuss how generative AI has harmed art and creativity as a whole, we need to understand how AI works. Image generators, such as DALL-E, generate images by inverting the process of diffusion, taking noise and turning it from that into an image. However, AI cannot learn from nothing–the ethical issues with AI start with the fact that each image generator is trained off tens of millions of real images and art, used without consent or compensation to the creator. Each image is accompanied by a caption that details the characteristics of the image, which is what allows the model to learn (Geeks for Geeks). People have tried to make ethical image generators before, but it’s a near-impossible feat considering the sheer amount of images, and their connected captions, are required for a successful AI model.
Is it fair to take millions of images that don’t belong to you without so much as the consent of or compensation to the original creator? Many say no. Primarily artists, but also photographers, have come up with their own tools to prevent their work from being taken and used for an AI model. One of these tools is called Nightshade, which, when you upload an image, covers it in a small, transparent layer of randomized shapes (Shan). To the human eye, it adds more texture to the image; but to an AI model, it’s poison. These shapes allow the image to appear as something it's not, turning a picture of a lake into what the model sees as a monkey in a hot air balloon, for example. However, this program can be quite hard on computers, so some alternatives include Cara and WebGlaze.
But what about other forms of art? How can writers, content creators, designers and more prevent their work from being unfairly taken and used by AI? Let’s discuss each of these in turn. As far as writing goes, I would guess that it’s the most used when it comes to generative AI. Students use it to write essays, teachers to grade them, and so on–there’s even been an increase in books or novels written entirely by a chatbot. Unfortunately, trying to figure out if something is written by AI is also extremely difficult, because similarly to image models, it’s trained on real work. An article from Capitol University gives us a list of how to spot what’s written by AI, but nothing can be one hundred percent when everything listed is a mistake a human could also make, meaning that the current state of writing is largely unpredictable. Many readers and writers, especially within fanfiction communities, since it’s generally easier to publish works within them, have expressed that they feel they’ve read works generated by AI or edited by AI.
Many social media platforms have also seen a large rise of AI generated content on their sites, with some even encouraging it. With sites like YouTube, TikTok and DeviantArt, which were originally created to give people a platform to share their creative work now turning into websites with a disproportionate amount of AI-generated content. There are no exact statistics as to what percent of content on each platform is made with AI, but users guess that it’s growing daily. With specific sites like DeviantArt, which were obviously created with the intention of giving artists a place to grow a platform now allowing AI-generated images, many people formerly using the site for many years have left. The users of the site have expressed their frustration with opening the app just to see work that no one made, leading users to believe the site is soon to die (Medium).
Some argue that generative AI makes art more accessible, claiming it’s just another medium for artists to work in. It’s been described by individuals as easier than art, in the same way that digital art is easier than traditional art. However, art is more accessible than it’s ever been. With the devices you currently own, you could take stunning photographs, learn how to draw, make a short film, and learn pretty much anything you want (Gooden). I’ve often seen it mentioned how generative AI can help disabled people make art–but disabled people have been making art since art has existed, and they continue to do so without artificial images (Fessenden). Ellah Fessenden on the Art Crime Archive explains how rather than people caring about how to make art more accessible for disabled artists, they use them as a shield for criticism against AI. When AI models train on the millions of images they’ve been fed, the work of disabled artists are included, meaning they’re stolen from just as equally as non-disabled artists. To say that AI generation makes art more accessible to disabled artists is ignoring the hard work of disabled artists all across the world.
Another point that some bring up as a counterargument to the anti-AI movement is that it’s “just more efficient.” Let’s see what Google’s AI overview has to say about itself: AI is efficient, offers a creative partner, makes art more accessible, and helps with organization and companionship. We’ve already addressed the aspect of creativity, proving that AI cannot currently compare to humans in that regard, as well as its claim that AI makes art more accessible, so let’s talk about efficiency. It’s true–AI is efficient. It can make things faster than any person alive, be it art, writing, ideas, and more. However, many people have asked one question: what is the point? Why would I, or anyone else, want to spend our time looking at a drawing no one could be bothered to take the time to draw, read a book no one could be bothered to take the time to write, or appreciate the work of something that nobody bothered to do.
AI can be helpful, and it can provide meaning within our lives, but taking away the most human aspect of art, the creativity behind it, isn’t how it will change the world. A quote from Joanna Maciejewska, posted on sitethatcantbenamed, sums up a lot of people’s feelings on generative AI: “I want AI to do my laundry and dishes so that I can do art and writing, not for AI to do my art and writing so that I can do my laundry and dishes.” The way that AI will help bring society to new places is by automating the work that humans don’t want to do, such as washing dishes and cleaning the bathroom. By replacing us as humans in the parts of life that we already enjoy, what are we trying to be rid of? We are all inherently creative (Oakley), but using AI to express your creativity isn’t the same as actually being creative. All you’re doing, when you choose to generate an image or story or video, is sacrificing the part of yourself that can already do that. You are telling a computer what you wish you could make, and then the computer makes it instead of you. All of the things that an AI can currently make, can be made by humans with more creativity and more authenticity in regards to the art. Thus, I believe that generative AI is not needed in our society and we should strive to move away from reliance on it.







Works Sited
Murray, Seb. “Does AI Limit Our Creativity?” Knowledge at Warton, 2025
Habib, Sabrina. “How does generative artificial intelligence impact student creativity?” Science Direct, 2024
“How Does an AI Model Generate Images?” Geeks for Geeks, 2025
Shan, Shawn. “What is Nightshade?” Nightshade, 2024
“How to Spot AI-generated Content: is it Fact or Fiction?” Capitol Technology University, 2024
GinAngieLa.com “Why DeviantArt is Soon to Be Dead and How the Platform is Killing Itself” Medium, 2024
Gooden, Drew. “AI is Ruining the Internet.” Youtube, uploaded by Drew Gooden, 2024, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UShsgCOzER4
Fessenden, Ellah. “Accessibility or Exploitation? The Disabled Identity, Art and AI” Art Crime Archive, 2025
Oakley, Vern. “If You’re Human, You’re Creative.” Tribe Pictures, 2022

Critique for Zephy ⋅ 641 words

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hi zephy! here’s my critique for your writing ^^ if i’m being a little too direct, please don’t take it personally or think that i am judging you etc- i thought that this was a really good, effective piece of work <3

I don't remember his face
gazing at me
you would think I'd remember
NO
I don't

this first “no” seems rather abrupt, maybe it could be like BUT NO or something to add more emphasis

His eyes were sharp
blue and bold
that's about all I can recall
the memories blur together and all I see
is blue

i like the narrative you’re using here! since you mentioned the eyes being blue at the start of the section, perhaps cutting that last phrase after “and” would work, especially since it would make this section lead on to the next more smoothly!

thoughts shift back and forth
like waves on an ocean
they blink clearly
what happened?

ooh, i love this simile!

I woke up in that hospital bed
Tears drove down my face

this was a really good metaphor! the pacing of the work so far seems a little like a song but also an uneven poem, so maybe in the future you could work on having a more consistent pace? i like how you’re writing style makes things super easy to read and convey a message, though!

Boom BOom BOOm BOOM BOOOM BOOOOM BOOOOOM BOOOOOOM BOOOOOOOM

wow!! this is a really nice addition, but maybe i’d suggest writing these in italics to emphasise the onomatopoeia?

The same as always
The same
The absolute
SAME
They never did care
I call them Mama and Papa
They will never be Mom or Dad
Foster parents don't deserve that recognition
But they try
or so that's what they think

aw, this was super moving

I am angry
I stomp
squish that bug
I hate bugs
I fall

i’m not sure about the symbolism of these bugs, or whether it was necessary, but i like the spacing! for the next part, i really like your figurative language, and i think it really levels up your writing! be careful when putting your writing on the next line, though, because while it works really well when used correctly, there are times where it just throws the sentence off-balance.

Hospital support group
Its fine
Fine
Fine
Fine
A girl named Luna
A boy named Jasper
A person named Zinnia

i like how you can tell the character’s personality from their narration, and the repetition works well, too! i also like how they ask a lot of questions and have random trains of thought because it feels super natural and relatable - just make sure to not overdo it!

Lights flash
Blue
Red
White
Marilyn do you hear me?
super good section!! who’s marilyn though xD

Lois looks at me
Brown eyes stare deep into the abyss of my own
Are you okay
she mouths silently

AWW i really love how these characters interact, it’s super sweet! you’ve thought of a great storyline here!

Florian
He holds us back
Questions us
Why we choose to remain
Hand in hand
What is happening
between us

i’m loving the thing with lois, but i feel like this is a rather random thing for florian to query about, and while it does bring more attention to the two, a good amount of moments have been happening between them for their situation to be more prevalent!

Do you remember?
she asks …

She falls asleep
So I do too

this section was literally so heartbreaking, good job ahah

Florian visits
Again
He asks if I'm fine
I'm not
But I'm fine
To him
I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine
That's it
Lois is gone
The flashes remain
Back and forth back and forth
I sway
Red
Blue
White
I say to him
Blonde hair
Blue eyes
They haunt me

this storyline is so gripping! i love the foreshadowing omg

I remember it
ALL
It was Florian

cue an audible gasp!! what an absolutely thrilling plot twist!

Her dad abuses her
Her mom hates her
Her mom used to abuse her too
Her mom hates her body
Her mom needs her to be skinnier
Her mom wants her to be a cheerleader
She says she can't
She says she never will be one
She says they kicked her out

this is a good section, but it seems a little too repetitive, so maybe take out the “her mom” and “she says” etc parts at the start of the sentence! alsoo, adding quotation marks would be good to differentiate between the narrator’s thoughts vs what they say! or italics, too.

i accidentally deleted the part with the blood, but the way you escalated the situation and created a sense of urgency worked well!

Police
They walk in …
So they bring Lois

help i was not prepared for this to be so touching and sad! finally realised that the marilyn is the mc’s name lol-

I try to manage out before I cry

this applies for many other parts, too, but maybe you could add in adverbs (eg uncontrollably, quietly, etc)

Lois has to tell them
Then she can stay …
So she doesn't

i felt myself skimming through this part a little- i sensed that it was getting a little too wordy/repetitive, so maybe in the future you could consider more carefully what to keep and what to not keep in your work to continue with audience interest, especially since the overall sentence structure throughout is quite basic <33

Scribble across the page
Florian
…
They catch him

yayy finally!! this was a great section

Lois whispers
He did it to me
He did it to me too..
She cries

i feel like this part was a little bit out of the blue - perhaps drop a few more hints so it makes sense when the reader gets to this part? or even an extra word like “quietly, lois whispers”

I cry
We hold each other
We are all that is left
And Florian
must be gone

this was such a good ending to such an amazing piece of work!! truly well done, z!

“how long have you been watching me?” i ask, taking a step back as she eyes me from the shadowy corner of the car garage. she simply shrugs, taken aback by question if anything, as if she hasn't been acting like an absolute creep for the past half an hour while i try cleaning my car in the mostly empty parking garage. she doesn't bother answering, and just continues watching me from her little corner where her face is hardly visible and i cant make out any of her features. she appears to have on a hoodie and sweatpants, but i have no idea what color they are since everything on her is hidden by the shadows i've already mentioned like six seven times. she begins to muster up a response, opening her mouth to say something but then changing her mind and closing it. she tilts her head, then decides to step out to where i can see her.
“you're car is stolen,” she simply states, the ghost of a smirk on her face.
“says who?”
she throws back her head in a laugh, then proceeds to point out several

oh my freaking gosh I just realized it's cabin wars and because it's cabin wars, I'm about to absolutely cook and write a thousand words right now to help work on the war that we have right now. Also I saw shield down at four am universal standard time, which is really weird to me because I remember the shield being three hours last time, so whatever. I do appreciate a longer shield. I wonder if there's also mercenaries for this round of cabin wars, or not because those might just be for the second round? I honestly have no idea and I'm not going to check because I'm trying to write for cabin wars! I didn't do the one thousand word intro challenge on the first day, so maybe I should do a bit of that in here, because of courseee I want to talk and talk about myself ahahaha - you know if I type at my usual speed that I have in typing tests I could have this done in ten minutes! That, of course, is very unlikely because I actually have to think of what to write here unlike in those typing tests, and I'm also likely to get distracted and go check things or whatever. I'm also hungry and lowk want dinner right now but I can't get that yet so I will just be typing until then. I'm actually making pretty good pace right now if I had to guess I'd say I have about two hundred and fifty words by the end of this sentence! That is really great - I just remembered while writing “that is” that I should take apart any words using apostrophes (of course excluding possessives) because then I will get double the words out of those two words! Yes I just made up the longest most not making sense way to explain that sentence, and when writing that sentence. That sentence made even less sense, but that is okay (see I did it again) because I do not (again!) need to write good sentences or words here, I am just trying to write for volume. That, of course, goes completely against the actual point of scratch writing camp, however writing for volume here is okay. And to further that point, I actually do really enjoy stream of consciousness writing and think it can be really good to get more in touch with ourselves and our thoughts. I am, of course, not going to write about any super personal thoughts in here, but I still think it's good. It's very nice to be familiar with the way that you think, you can be very (or at least a lot more) honest with yourself, which is how you will improve. Like for example, there are a lot better things I could and should be doing right now - however, I am currently okay with that, because it is me who will have to deal with the consequences later. So later me will probably be less of a fan of my decision, but that is okay because I will be forced to deal with it either way. Quick stop to fix a couple spelling mistakes, only three. Now I remembered about four hundred words ago that there are extra challenges for cabin wars by seeing someone post the points their cabin earned for them in the main cabin, so I am going to look and find out what the extra challenge for this one is before I finish I mean after I finish this thought here. I just realized that if it is a prompt that requires you to write a certain way for the entire thing I might be screwed, but it is okay because it is only worth like twenty five points probably and I am getting a lot more from writing these words. I almost really don't want to stop because I am in a good flow right now with the thinking and typing, but I am going to now at the end of this sentence right here. Never mind I am not going to do that challenge because I see that it is the character exchange one, and we can't do that because there is only one other person working on this war, mildred. I know that because when checking I saw that she just wrote a thousand words towards the war, which means because I am writing a thousand right now and am actually pretty close and will finish soon, since she didn't provide a character I can't write anything, and even if I provide a character it's too late for her to do anything with it unless we overwrite for the war which we don't want to do because we'll tire out and that's more writing for mildred because she already wrote a thousand words. I am typing really fast so hopefully nobody calls this as unfair and cheating although I was just thinking, if someone does accuse me of cheating I actually really have significant proof that I'm not. First of all, chatgpt is NOT coming up with this stuff lmao the amount of run on sentences, including this one, and terrible grammar? Also the personal experiences chatgpt could just not make up based on the scratch interactions like the one with mildred I was just describing. I could also show my nitrotype race stats and take a typing test! Speaking of mildred she wrote a thousand and eighty nine words which means I only have to write like nine hundred and eleven and I think I have come close or have passed that by now so I am going to put it in word counter and check, if I don't write any more after this it means I hit the goal!

School Lunch - A Freestyle “Poem”
School lunch. The most looked-forward-to part of the day.
But why?
People seem to think that school lunches are amazing.
That they are the best part of the day.
First of all, recess is better.
But if you don't have that…
Why lunch?
If you want a main meal the choices are:
Greasy chicken nuggets, or a soggy sandwich
You want a side?
Great!
Grab some half-frozen peas,
and maybe some chemical soaked fruit?
Oh, you need something to wash that down?
Just remember to check the expiration date on the milk.
And make sure it's not curdled.
And for dessert…
A half-baked cookie!
Definitely the best part of the day.

Desperation - A song
SWC is coming around!
November (November!) is finally here!
August and September passed like a dream,
And now we're finally here!
Oh, we're finally here!
Hooray! Hooray!
Long lost friends and joy all around.
Only when the first daily comes around do you realize…
You're not getting any sleep tonight.

Dailies Deadlines Desperation!
SWC is so chaotic.
Dailies Deadlines Desperation!
Sleepless nights filled with writing.
Dailies Deadlines Desperation!

Word wars and cabin wars come around.
Hooray! It is our favorite time of year!
Friendly competition, maybe some inspiration.
But then, fingers hurting, desperately typing,
you realize, they aren't so good, after all.
Will you win? Will you lose?
Who cares? I'm dying of exhaustion.
None of this is worth it after all.

Dailies Deadlines Desperation!
SWC is so chaotic.
Dailies Deadlines Desperation!
Sleepless nights filled with writing.
Dailies Deadlines Desperation!

Why oh why does it have to be this way?
I came here for fun, not for pain. (not for pain)
Spending so many sleepless nights,
my fingers aching, my heart is breaking,
Ooooooooooooh…
Why? Why? Why?

Dailies Deadlines Desperation!
SWC is so chaotic.
Dailies Deadlines Desperation!
Sleepless nights filled with writing.
Dailies Deadlines Desperation!

Finally, the end comes around
Lo and behold, we won!
The dailies, the deadlines, the desperation,
All worth it after all.

A really big knife - A Script
Scene 1:
We are in Walmart during black friday. People run around frantically, wrestling and fighting over items. Enter Customer and Walmart Employee.
Walmart Employee: How can I help you today?
Customer: Well, I have a really big tomato on my hands.
Walmart Employee: How big of a tomato?
Customer: The seeds are the size of eyeballs.
Walmart Employee: That’s one big tomato! Where did you get it?
Customer: My uncle grows lots of really big produce on his farm.
Walmart Employee: Oh. So, what do you need?
Customer: Well, my tomato is too big to cut with a regular knife. So I need a really big knife to cut my really big tomato.
Walmart Employee: Oh, well those would be in the kitchenware section. I’ll show you where it is.
Cutomer: Great!
They walk offstage.

Scene 2:
Walmart Employee and Customer walk into the knife aisle, where Other Customer is already there, holding a really big knife.
Customer: Oh! I’m looking for a really big knife! Where did you find that one?
Other Customer: Over there. (pointing) But you can't have it. I need this knife to chop up my really big eggplant.
Customer: I'll just go get another one, then.
Other Customer: This is the last one.
Customer: I need it! (Tries to grab the knife)
Other Customer: (Pointing the knife at them) It's mine!
Walmart Employee: Umm… I'll let you guys settle this. (leaves)
Customer: Give me that knife… or else.
Other Customer: Or else what?
Customer: (thinking) Ummm….
Uncle Perry walks onto the stage.
Customer and Other Customer: (in unison) Uncle Perry!
They look at each other.
Customer: Wait, how do you know my Uncle Perry?
Other Customer: Your Uncle Perry? He's my Uncle Perry.
Uncle Perry: Hi girls! You didn't know you were cousins?
Customer: What??????
Uncle Perry: Yeah. Anyway, I brought a really big knife. So now there's two!
He hands the knife to Customer.
Other Customer: I'll just buy this one then.
Walmart Employee walks in.
Other Customer: How much is this knife?
Walmart Employee: $10.99
Uncle Perry: $10.99 for a knife! You're scamming my niece!
He pulls the really big knife out of Customer's hands, and stabs Walmart Employee.
Uncle Perry: We'll just take this, then.
The three of them walk off.

Life>SWC - A Speech
Hello, fellow SWCers. As you probably have noticed, most SWCers struggle to keep up with regular life during SWC, often spending too much time online. (And I'm including myself in that) But we say life>SWC for a reason. Today, let's go over how to participate in SWC without missing out on anything else.
First of all, you need to set a reasonable word goal. The people who write 100,000+ words are usually the ones losing sleep. Sure, it's fun to try to get to the top of the trackbear leaderboard, but you can help your team win just by doing the dailies and weeklies. Secondly, maybe set some limits. This could look different depending on the person, but maybe you take life>SWC seriously, and do something like you have to do your homework before getting on Scratch. Or maybe you just set a time limit on how much time you're spending per day. Either one of these will do wonders for keeping yourself in line. Next, let's talk about cabin wars. Since it's for a limited time, it's tempting to be on writing the entire time, especially if you're hyper competitive like I am. But take a break, seriously. There are other people on your team that can hold down the fort while you're gone. And sometimes you not being there can motivate other people to help in your absence. On the topic of events, roleplay day. It's very exciting, I know. It also makes it very tempting to stay on as much as you possibly can. I think this one is the one that I have the most problems with. Last year my dad put a time limit on my phone after seeing how much time I spent on it during roleplay day. Anyway, this is something that just takes self-control. It's fine to be up part of the time roleplaying with people. But at some point you cross a line. And if you do take too much time doing this, at least take breaks. It's for your own good. And lastly, SWC is never a reason to skip sleep. If you do this, you're just going to be sleep deprived the next day. Try to plan dailies and weeklies so that you don't have to miss sleep.
In conclusion, to enjoy SWC while not missing out on life, make sure to set a reasonable word goal, set some limits for yourself, have self control during events like cabin wars and roleplaying, and never skip.sleep for SWC. And remember, life>SWC.

so I forgot how I formatted these but whatever
speech for weekly! it became a bit of a rant about queerphobia and Christianity and my place in the world as a queer Christian but yeah. so yeah trigger warning for religion and queerphobia if that kind of stuff triggers you

“No you can't be queer, you're Christian!” or “No, being queer is bad!” or “No, God said you can't be queer!” or something like that.
No.
That is not quite true.
Stop.
For one thing, most of the rules in the Bible saying you can't be queer are in Leviticus and such. Those are the law books of the Old Testament. A lot of Christians do not follow a lot of those rules.
“But Jesus said He wasn't here to change or erase the old law!”
Okay, so if we have to follow the do not be queer rule, why don't we have to follow some of the other random rules, like about what you can or can't eat or what you can or can't wear?
I am not saying this means we have to throw away ALL the old rules. There are plenty in there that make perfect sense. But being queer is not hurting anyone, so why should it be bad?
“But you can't be trans! That's going against the way God made you! He made you that way for a reason!”
Okay, so for one thing, following this logic, you can't wear glasses or contact lenses or get braces because God made your eyes and teeth the way they are for a reason and you are going against that by wearing glasses or contact lenses or getting braces. For another – I'm not sure if this is how it works, but I can't be sure this isn't how it works either, no one can truly know except God Himself, but – what if He actually did make me like this? Make my gender different from the way I was born? I am well aware that I could be wrong here, but isn't it at least possible?
“God only made two genders! It was in Genesis! You can't be nonbinary or genderfluid or whatever!”
Also in Genesis it only says He made evening and morning! Does this mean that midnight or early afternoon are against His creation? No! Evening and morning are here used to describe two extreme ends of a spectrum. So why can't male and female also be describing the two extreme ends of a wildly varying in between?
“Queer people can't be Christian! You're going against the Bible! How can you believe in Jesus and be queer?”
Easy. I believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of Heaven and Earth. I believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended to the dead. On the third day he rose again. He ascended into Heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy Catholic (here meaning unified) Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Amen. Also, I'm an omni aroaceflux cupio transmasc genderfluid fictionkin he/any user. Maybe this is how God made me. And I am proud of it. And even if this isn't His plan for me, all I can do is believe and live my life how I believe He wants me to live, and hope and trust that a truly loving God like the one I believe in is going to forgive me and that His salvation will overshadow any mistakes I have made, including that. If it even is a mistake.

485 words not counting the Apostles' Creed

Critique for @theleapingleopard !

Poem belongs to @theleapingleopard . Tw for mentions of death

Trigger warning: the very mouldy truth

Beyond the grave

beyond the grave?
oh darling…

A comma would go well here! Oh, darling expresses more genuine regret for me, plus helps with the pacing a bit.

there’s nothing there but

mud
worms
coffin
bones
rot
death

The End.

hate to break it to you.

Poetry is hard because of course it's a style thing as priority! However I do think this would flow better if you added something before ‘Hate to break it to you.’ Assuming it's "I hate to break it to you.' It's a little bit confusing as is and feels a little out of place

wait-

you won’t accept that?
you want more?

I personally think it would read well if you changed ‘You won’t accept that?' to ‘So you won’t accept that?' And maybe even change "you want more?' to ‘Do you want more?’ Though the repetition is a valid technique because it's the only time you use it in the entire poem it feels just a little but out of place.

fine.

imagine the gravestone, a name
inscribed deep into the stone
like a knife carved deep into flesh

“inscribed deep into the stone
like a knife carved deep into flesh????' I cannot even explain how much I love this line!! The whole theme of this poem is really well done, ”Beloved bones, Dearest decay'??? It flows incredibly well and hits very hard. I like how you cover how horrible a death is but at the same time how it's just another death, how people die every single day unnoticed.

as if that, or anything, will keep them alive.
‘beloved’
‘dearest’
For now, maybe that’s true
but time will grave-rob the truth
as their names slip into the mudslide of history.
what - beloved bones, dearest decay?
or just another body lost in the maze,
another coffin silent in another grave…

And there are no memories
that side of the stone.
their bones are white
as the programme of the songs you sing, dressed in black,

Boring spelling, program not programme Programme is correct but the meaning is slightly different to what I think you're going for? Also I think it would flow fell if you moved ‘Dressed in black’ to a new line, otherwise it sticks out quite a bit as it's the only time you use a comma in the middle of a line.

as the tissues that soak up your tears.
no matter how much you cherish them
as you sob before the stone,
your tears can drill holes in earth
but nothing can undo the hearse -
what lies within is earth, wood… bones.
locks of hair curl around the
empty.
skull
where no thoughts lurk
because
they
are
Dead.

prefer that explanation?

Once again i'd reccomend changing this to ‘Do you prefer that explanation?’ I think one of the most important parts of a poem is that the reader can relate to it in some way, and see themselves in the poem. By creating that direct link with the reader they're more likely to engage with the writing.

no? well it’s only going to get worse from here.
i’d say sorry. but I’m not.

I really love how you include the author directly talking to you rather than keeping it vague and distant. It makes me think about the context a lot more which is really good. The more informal tone is also really fun to read! The contrast between that and the more gory descriptions is really good.

Pretty cheery stuff, hey?


Rotting platitudes


‘love never dies’ apparently,
that's what they say.

load of good that was,
my heart’s compost now.
it lies deep in the ground, enshrouded
in mulch. Sprouting mould at the edges
like a warm winter coat,
but maybe that’s how it’s meant to be…

Ok??? Ok??? Just drop that beautiful stanza and then move on??? love all of this so much, it reminds me of work song by hozier.

the worms lean our names by heart
as they churn a vat of euphemisms
that fuel the comforting inferno of lies.

‘they’re proud of you’ supposedly
well, nobody’s ever received a gold star
from someone 6 feet under.

‘never forget them’
but honestly?
my name will soften in your mouth
like old fruit-
the memories have long passed their expiration date.

‘they’re in a better place now’
funny, if anyone’s been
they’d have sent a postcard
or posted a selfie I could like.
there’s no good in that now,
no service underground.

It’s all very well saying forever,
but forever decomposed first.

I don't have the time to pick apart every single word in this piece, but I love it all, this poem's really well written! I personally think your first poem needs a check through to make it flow a little bit better, though it's really really good as it, but I honestly have nothing to say about Rotting platitudes. It's actually so good. I couldn't do any more unfortunatly but I read through everything and it's all stunningly written. Be very proud of yourself.

weekly 1!
random Poem:
The bird flies in the sky.
Like it doesn’t care what anyone else thinks.
The bright sun shines down on it like a ray of hope.
I want to be like that.
The sunflowers bloom below, reaching up towards the sun, towards the bird which is now flying away.
The sky becomes darker.
I start to feel tired, but it’s not time to go to sleep yet.
The stars come out, and I see all the galaxies from my bedroom window.
Children continue to chatter outside, their mother telling them to go inside.
I watch them with a smile.

minomizu Song: (verse 1)
(Mizuki, spoken: I don't know my identity.
But somehow you made me feel a little more ‘me’.
Thank you, Minori)
Colors under ribbons and cloth
No one sees the real me

Minori:
The colors pop
I used to sing all alone
But now,
Dancing with you,
It is like a dream~

Pre chorus: (together)
But your voice reached me
And I realized I
Am not alone~
(Let's take a breath-)
Chorus:
Pink, orange, blue
paint my world the color of you
If we are in the wrong
Then let's revise this world that they call ‘perfect’
Even if our memories fade away
Our voice will still remain-
Verse 2: (minori)
Sometimes I felt like the sunlight was fading away.
Rainy and gray~
But that's where the songs were born
Mizuki:
I used to be all alone
Until I met you
You are one of my precious friends
I’m just glad it's you
Chorus:
Pink, orange, blue
paint my world the color of you
If we are in the wrong
Then let's revise this world that they call ‘perfect’
Even if our memories fade away
Our voice will still remain-
Mizuki:
Even after… the song… ends…
mesmerizer themed script:

Miku: “Teto! Ready to start the show?”
Teto: “Y-yeah… almost ready!”
Miku: “What's wrong Teto? Are you not feeling okay? Are you scared of me for some reason?”
Teto: “I’m fine, Miku!”
Miku: “Hmm… okay! If you say so! But aren't you excited?”
Teto: (sarcastic): “Yeah! Let's get the show on the road!”
The next day…
Miku: “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen to the Mezmeriser show!”
I’m your host Miku and this is your co-host, Teto!!
Teto: I'm Teto!~ Are you ready to get hypnotized?~
(crowd cheers in bg)
Well, let's get started!
Here's how to get into a trance~ Miku, take them away!
(song starts)
Miku: (singing mezmeriser) Don't reflect on feelings you don't need!
Are you pretending not to notice?
The truths and your heart
That's how your safe zone is shrinking
Selling your wounds, little by little.
You give a small cry, such shameful conduct
Teto: (also singing)
Well, I’ve got a recommendation for you! The ultimate escape!
Will you eventually be saved by being lured into traps?

Miku:
You are getting sleepy
“A shallow hypnosis”
Your body is becoming muddled
No way! So many tricks?!
Swinging a coin before your eyes
You’ll become completely still
“This is fine”
Even I can be coxed into a shutdown
Teto: (mumbles the same words, since she is scared about being hypnotized)
Miku: (makes puking noises)
Teto: Miku, what's wrong? Are you okay?
Miku: Ugh…
Wh0’$ ^!ku?
Teto: (her thoughts): What happened to her? This is seriously creepy! If I become hypnotized, I'll turning into this! Now I definitely don't want to become hypnotized!
What will happen to me now…
To be continued… never?!
Speech: (inspired by my r)
I was walking home, the air buzzing with cicadas, and the dark sky.
There was someone next to me, with long black hair and an average height.
She looked at me, like she knew my every thought.
I was tired, tired of trying, tired of life.
Maybe I was running from this life. She looked the same.
When she asked me about it, I just giggled.
There were so many things I wanted to take back.
But I couldn’t.
I told her to take care of herself, to stay safe, in a fake voice.
She said ‘I will”
I saw another one of them again, day after day.
Maybe I was hallucinating.
But they all looked just like me.
I told them all the same things.
One of them even said that they were happy with their life now.
But surely not me, right?
One of them even asked me if I was okay.
I said “Yeah, I’m fine,” much too quickly.
After I said that she disappeared with a happy smile.
I desperately ran after her, but realized, again, that she was one of my alter egos.
Then, one day, I saw her.
She wore a long yellow cardigan, had short brown hair, and a short figure.
Basically, she looked exactly like me.
She looked especially tired, more than the other ones.
I asked if she was okay.
She said “No,” and then asked the same of me.
“Nah.” I said.
“But please-” I said with intense worry.
“… Stay safe. I really care-” I couldn’t get all the words out, without sobbing.
I need to save myself.
“… I don’t know what will happen,” she had said.
“But I think I’ll be okay.”
Then she disappeared, and it was just me and the night sky.
It was so late at night, even the cicadas had stopped chirping.
It was a different day since I saw the first person, but still around the same time.
I went to the 24 hour convenience store, and bought a small treat.
I think I’ll be okay.
The next day, my friend who I’ve had for a long time texted me.
She asked how I was doing, and if I still felt the same way about life.
I said “I’m doing better, how about you?”
She texted me back later. I smiled, realizing I’d forgotten what it’s like to have a friend.

✪ Daily Task 08: Critique Daily ⊹ ₊

Critique for Eva <3

Hello, Eva! Before I start, I would quickly like to mention how much I absolutely ADORED this piece! It was really well written and there were very few grammatical errors when I checked. I’m sure I’ll probably add more praise later but for now, I’ll get started!

Okay, first, I LOVED how descriptive you were when describing the queen. She’s got this icey, untouchable yet radiant beauty (if that makes sense). I love how you put emphasis on how organized and in control she is. Generally, I have no changes that need to be made to the first paragraph except a few small grammatical details. Here they are:

Original:
She is in control. The guards on either side of the door, the rows of marble columns, the ornate pattern of swirls on the ceiling: everything is perfectly organised. Outside, her empire is running smoothly. Her dark glossy curls are arranged neatly over one shoulder, her eyes are icy blue, and against the red velvet of her gown, her skin is as white as marble.
- After “The guards”, insert the word “on” so it says “The guards on either side…”
- After “the door” just put a comma instead (and do the same with after “marble columns”) <3
- After “Her dark” out a comma so it reads “Her dark, glossy curls…”
- I think “arranged” could go after neatly (this is optional because it reads the same either way)
- After “shoulder”, I think a semicolon would fit well there.
- I think it’s spelled “icy” instead of “icey”

Original:
The queen takes a sharp breath, but her face remains impassive. Perhaps she misheard the Messenger, or even misremembered the number. But the more she thinks the more she is sure, this is no ordinary soldier. The memories of all the past nights creep into her mind. The chill of night air, his soft voice, and his gentle embrace. It's him.
- Only thing in here is comma after “the more she thinks”

I want to pause for a moment and just talk about how good this is. How cool and composed she is at the beginning, to how bored she is when she orders the execution, then to realization and dread. It’s truly a work of art and it’s probably so far the best thing I’ve read all session. Bravo, Eva.

Original:
She reaches the building. No one notices her come in: The Executioner is focused on his task. Then she sees the soldier and her heart begins beating wildly. She has no control over love.
- I would change “her heart begins beating wildly” to something like “her heart was pounding against her ribcage” (so basically maybe put some figurative language there for some more flavor?)

Original:
The queen lies on the ground, a pool of blood spreading around her. The Executioner has frozen and the guard's face is a mask of shock. The soldier runs to her and kneels on the floor beside her, weeping bitterly. Only he knows why she did it.
- Comma after “frozen”
Only he knows why she did it. That’s a powerful sentence that emphasizes that maybe it was more of a private relationship with some stolen moments or maybe it was a forbidden relationship.

Original:
She is gone. Somewhere dark, lonely, and empty. She finally knows the truth, but the discovery came at too great a cost. Now, she knows the power in love, and the pain that love can bring. She sees the strange beauty of pain. She realises that sometimes the most beautiful things are the things you have no control over.
- No need for the comma after “power in love”, love (nice joke eh? Sorry. It’s 1am)
- “Realises” is typically spelled as “realizes” (I think)
- Maybe change “Now, she knows the power in love and the pain that love can bring.” to “Now, she knows the power in love and the pain that it can bring.” because I kinda feel like “love” was overused in that sentence (unless you meant for it to be like that, of course!)

Whelp! That’s all I have for you, Eva! It was a pleasure to critique and read your story! I loved it so much and I hope this helps!

» — ⋙ 704 words ⋘ — «

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Weekly #1
Different Forms of Writing

────────── ☆ ──────────

✪┊Part 1: Poetry

Author's Notes:
✦ First weekly of the session, yay! Just a heads-up, I didn't really proofread anything, so some parts may not make complete sense.

What if there’s a world
Where my high school friends never left
And we’re still laughing over the smallest jokes
And we clutch our stomachs
And we grin so hard our faces hurt
And we sing off-key karaoke
And we dream of a future together
Not knowing that future never came?

What if there’s a world
Where my primary school friends never left
And we’re still discovering how life works
And we recite our ABCs
And we play hopscotch on cobblestones
And we worry about puberty
And we dream of a future together
Not knowing that future never came?

What if there’s a world
Where I’m dreaming of somewhere else
And I throw myself into books
And I plug my earphones in tightly
And I stare at the passing windows drowsily
And I dream of another world
Not knowing that this world is all I need?

What if there’s a world
Where I notice my friends’ smiles
And my backyard tree starts to grows flowers
And a stranger offers me their metro seat
And the sunlight basks everything so beautifully
And I sit on a cliff as I watch the rising sun
Finally knowing that this world is all I need.

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✪┊Part 2: Songwriting

Verse 1
This big ol’ city’s not right for me
It’s way too loud, the stars can’t be seen
People stare weirdly at my foreign face
It’s no slow doubt that I’m outta my place

Pre-Chorus
Can I go back?
Can I restore the life I had before?
It’s a wishful thought, I can’t deny
But I still dream of those big blue skies ‘cause

Chorus
I can still hear laughter of the children on the streets
Oh, their big smiles are so bright and free
I can still smell the fresh summertime air
Bask in the rays, though I’m not truly there
‘Cause my hometown’s so far, far from here

Verse 2
This big ol’ city’s not right for me
No matter I try, it’s never the same
Even I did mask my foreign face
Deep down, I’ll know that I’m outta my place

Pre-Chorus
Can I go back?
Can I restore the life I had before?
It’s a wishful thought, I can’t deny
But I still dream of those big blue skies ‘cause

Chorus
I can still hear laughter of the children on the streets
Oh, their big smiles are so bright and free
I can still smell the fresh summertime air
Bask in the rays, though I’m not truly there
‘Cause my hometown’s so far, far from here

Bridge
And I know I’m blessed to live somewhere so fine
The economy’s great, and there’s zero crime
But sometimes I still dream of those summertime nights
Oh, my hometown, I ache for your guiding light
‘Cause

Chorus
I can still hear laughter of the children on the streets
Oh, their big smiles are so bright and free
I can still smell the fresh summertime air
Bask in the rays, though I’m not truly there
‘Cause my hometown’s so far, far from here
‘Cause my hometown’s so far, far from here

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✪┊Part 3: Scriptwriting

Author's Note:
✦ Credits to @z3phy_th3_cr4zy for the idea of putting my favourite characters into a room and watch them escape! This is just the exposition but I think it still counts.
✦ This is indeed a Cookie Run: Kingdom fanfiction because the characters are taking over me. Help.

INT. ROOM
It’s an average escape room, themed like an inn straight out of a Dungeons & Dragons game.

MANGO COOKIE
(tired, waking up)
Wh… where am I?

STRAWBERRY CREPE COOKIE
(annoyed)
Finally, you’re awake! We’ve been stuck in here for like, a year by now.

ESPRESSO COOKIE
Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, it’s been three minutes.

STRAWBERRY CREPE COOKIE
(determined)
Well, it feels like a year! I wanna go home already, we need to find a way out.

CREAM PUFF COOKIE
Hold on, I’m still confused… How did we even get here in the first place? And… Why us, specifically?

ESPRESSO COOKIE
No idea. Perhaps it’s one of Shadow Milk Cookie’s tricks.

STRAWBERRY CREPE COOKIE
(confused)
Shadow Milk Cookie? Who’s that?

ESPRESSO COOKIE
(informative)
Pure Vanilla Cookie has recently informed me of this Beast named Shadow Milk Cookie, a jester who loves getting a rise out of anybody in his path. He’s dangerous, I’ve heard. I would not be surprised if this was one of his doings, although I have never personally encountered him myself.

CREAM PUFF COOKIE
(confused)
Well, if it is a trick, I’d say it’s a pretty strange one. There’s no use in trapping us all here.

(MANGO COOKIE inspects the door in the background.)

MANGO COOKIE
(unsure)
Uh, guys? I think this is an escape room.

STRAWBERRY CREPE COOKIE
(baffled)
An escape room? Really?

ESPRESSO COOKIE
Thinking of it, that does explain a lot of things… Still, the question remains: why have we, specifically, been trapped into here? I do not even know the name of the yellow one over there.

MANGO COOKIE
(happy)
Oh, me? I’m Mango Cookie! I come from the beautiful Tropical Soda Islands. The water is crystal clear, the breeze is light and the sky is a dazzling blue. You should come visit sometime!

ESPRESSO COOKIE
(hurried)
I need not know about your islands. We have to find a way to leave this place as soon as possible.

CREAM PUFF COOKIE
(happy)
Well, nice to meet you Mango Cookie! I’m Cream Puff Cookie, a wizard in training!

MANGO COOKIE
(curious)
Ooh, a wizard? I’ve heard stories about wizards, but I’ve never actually met one myself! What’s it like?

CREAM PUFF
(sheepish)
Oh, well, I wouldn’t say I’m experienced enough to answer that question… I still have lengths left to go, but so far, it’s been pretty great–

STRAWBERRY CREPE COOKIE
(annoyed)
Yeah yeah, cut the boring talk! Let’s find a way out of here already. I was supposed to hold maintenance on the Wafflebots today, and they don’t like waiting!

ESPRESSO COOKIE
(neutral)
I believe it’s you that doesn’t like waiting, Strawberry Crepe Cookie.

STRAWBERRY CREPE COOKIE
Whatever! It’s boring here anyway. Come on slowpokes, hurry up and help me with this lock!

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✪┊Part 4: Speech

Scratch Writing Camp has recently hit its 25th session, meaning it has lasted about eight years by now. But how has this niche writing camp on a relatively niche website managed to last so long? To that, I suggest, is because it is absolutely awesome.

Greetings and salutations all of you, and today I present you with a great topic: Scratch Writing Camp, or to be more specific, its sheer awesomeness. Now you may be wondering… why, Crystie, of all topics have you chosen this one? You came up with a lot more serious ideas earlier, when you were drifting off into space. To that I argue, this is also a very serious topic. Scratch Writing Camp’s awesomeness is not something to dismiss or take for granted. Without further ado, let me get into my three main points of today: the community, the prompts and the competition.

My first point is the community. Many find writing to be a fun activity on its own, but many also find it much more enjoyable when there is camaraderie surrounding it. Think of how less interesting hobbies would be without memes to laugh at late at night! The community is wonderfully chaotic and tight-knit with their own inside jokes and traditions. They are also very welcoming, and any newcomer is sure to easily fall into the rhythm within time. The people are friendly, kind and supportive while still keeping an energetic, competitive and chaotic spark. There are also communities within each cabin, each of which have a unique theme, storyline and activites.

My second point are the prompts. Writing burn out is something that most writers struggle with in their lives. Ideas are hard to generate, so imagine having entire months dedicated to daily and weekly prompts! There is so much to write about and gain inspiration from. Not only that, there are also other projects dedicated to sparking inspiration and developing abilities, such as the writing workshops, word wars, writing competitions, critique centre and of course the infamous cabin wars. These all further promote community and also help writers sharpen their skills. I can say with certain that Scratch Writing Camp helped my writing grow tremendously across the years I have participated in it. It also encourages leadership and teamwork, both of which are precious life skills!

My final point is the competition. Many people are naturally competitive, and the camp uses this to its and its community’s advantage. The competition is friendly while still keeping people on their toes. The point system encourages people to work on writing prompts even if they are not particularly feeling motivated to write. This does help, for oftentimes the toughest step in writing can be getting the motivation to do so in the first place. It also encourages people to take risks they may not have previously, such as entering the writing competition. Many cabins also have their own currency system that further add rewards for improving oneself as a person and writer. It’s all truly amazing! Each cabin wants to rise to the top of the leadboard, which promotes teamwork, motivation and inspiration within its members. Those who wish not to participate in competition may also choose to be a part of The Cabin That Will Not Win, which is a competition-free environment focused purely on writing and community.

Therefore, Scratch Writing Camp is excellent and enjoyable for people across the world. I believe it has lasted so long due to its community, prompts and competition. Thank you for listening to my speech, and I hope everyone has a surely wonderful and creative day!

Part 1: 201 Words
Part 2: 302 Words
Part 3: 462 Words
Part 4: 600 Words
Total: 1,565 Words

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Cabin wars !
Wrote all 4000 words !!! :00
The Weight of the Sky
(20-Chapter)
I
When my mother died, the world didn’t stop.
I used to think it would.
I thought grief was an earthquake — that everything would split open, that people on the street would stumble and look up, startled, as if they felt the same crack inside themselves.
But nothing happened.
The mail still came. The neighbor still mowed his lawn. The radio still played bad pop songs in the grocery store.
And that, somehow, was worse.
She’d been sick for years — the slow kind of illness that erodes a family one day at a time. You tell yourself you’re ready, but you never are. Death doesn’t arrive as a single moment; it arrives as the sum of every small goodbye you’ve already said.
The day after the funeral, I walked to the edge of town and stood by the old reservoir. The water was perfectly still, a mirror too quiet to look into. I remember thinking, If I move, she’ll disappear.
I didn’t move.
II
The first month after, I lived inside a fog of arrangements: bills, paperwork, phone calls, boxes.
There’s nothing quite as cruel as bureaucracy while you’re grieving. You’re forced to translate love into forms — signatures and identification numbers, proof of death. Proof that she is gone.
When it was all done, I came home and found the apartment unbearably silent. I’d spent so long caring for her that I didn’t know what to do with time anymore. The walls felt like they were waiting for instructions.
So I started cleaning. At first, just to keep busy, but then with a strange desperation — as if tidying could keep the chaos from spilling out of me.
That’s how I found the box.
It was tucked at the back of her closet, under old coats and a pile of neatly folded linens. Inside were cassette tapes. Dozens of them. Each one labeled in her precise handwriting: “Road Trip ’87,” “Quiet Evenings,” “New Year Mix,” “For When You Forget.”
I didn’t even know she still had a tape player.
At the bottom of the box was a small recorder, the kind with two worn-out buttons and a fraying cord. I plugged it in. It crackled, hissed, and then her voice came through — faint, uncertain, alive.
“If you’re listening, I guess I’m not there,” she said, and laughed, that soft, embarrassed laugh she used to do when she felt too vulnerable.
“Don’t panic. These aren’t final words. I just… I wanted to leave you something real. Something that breathes.”
The tape clicked. Then a song began to play — “Hearts Don’t Break in Silence.”
She used to hum that song while washing dishes. Hearing it again felt like opening a wound I’d forgotten to close.
When it ended, her voice returned:
“You think you know how much you love someone. You don’t. You only learn it in the absence.”
I stopped the tape and sat on the floor until it was dark.
I couldn’t bring myself to play another one.
III
Grief turns time elastic.
Days stretch endlessly, and then whole weeks vanish.
Sometimes I went entire afternoons without speaking a word. My friends tried to help, but there’s an invisible distance between those who grieve and those who guess. They’d invite me to lunch, to the movies, to normal things, but everything ordinary felt obscene.
I started going to the library just to sit among people who weren’t looking at me. There’s a mercy in being surrounded by quiet lives.
One afternoon, I pulled a book at random from a shelf — a collection of essays about astronomy. The first line stopped me cold:
“Everything we see in the night sky is already gone; the light we love has traveled years to reach us.”
I copied the line into my notebook. It felt like truth disguised as science.
That night, I went up to the roof and looked at the stars until my neck ached. I tried to imagine her among them, not as an angel, not as a metaphor, but as matter transformed — still existing, just changed.
I said aloud, “You’re still here, aren’t you?”
The wind didn’t answer. But the silence felt different. Less empty, somehow.
IV
The second tape I listened to was labeled “The Night We Met.”
It wasn’t about a romance. It was about me.
Her voice was soft, almost shy.
“You were born on a rainy night. The hospital lights flickered and your father fainted. You came out screaming, but when they handed you to me, you stopped. You just looked at me. Like you already knew me. I think that’s when I learned what forever means.”
I pressed stop and rewound it three times, needing to hear that again — like you already knew me.
When I was little, she used to hold me close and hum lullabies that weren’t really songs, just threads of sound. She’d whisper, ‘You came from me, but you don’t belong to me. The world will ask you to be hard. Don’t listen.’
I wish I had written that down.
Now, hearing her voice again, I could feel the air around me shift — as if every memory I’d buried was gently asking to be seen.
V
Grief doesn’t ask for permission. It arrives uninvited, at odd hours, in strange forms.
Sometimes, it came as anger — at her for leaving, at myself for not doing more, at God for existing or not existing depending on the day.
Sometimes, it came as laughter — small, startled, inappropriate. The kind that bubbles up when you suddenly remember something absurd, like the time she burnt toast and blamed the toaster.
Once, it came as color.
I was walking home from the store, and the sky broke open into the kind of sunset that makes people stop in the street. Everything was orange and violet, bruised and beautiful. For a moment, I swear I felt her beside me, the way she used to grab my arm and say, “Look at that — the sky’s trying to apologize for everything.”
I stood there until it faded.
VI
I listened to the rest of the tapes slowly, like letters arriving across time.
On one of them she talked about fear.
“We spend so much time pretending to be strong. But strength isn’t the absence of breaking — it’s what you do while you’re broken. Promise me you’ll keep living, even when you don’t want to. Especially then.”
On another, she talked about joy.
“Happiness isn’t a destination. It’s a moment of noticing. The smell of bread, the sound of rain, the warmth of your own hands. Don’t miss it.”
And on the last tape — labeled simply “And Yet” — she said:
“If you ever feel lost, look for what’s still kind. The world is cruel, yes, but not only. Find one good thing and build from there.”
Then silence.
Not static, not the end of the tape — just quiet.
Like she wanted me to answer.
VII
That night, I dreamed of her.
Not vividly, not like a vision — just a sense. She was sitting in the garden, wearing the same sweater she always wore when she pruned the roses. I walked toward her, but she didn’t look up. She just said, “You should plant something.”
When I woke, it was still dark. The dream clung to me, heavy and urgent.
So, before dawn, I went outside with a small trowel and a packet of seeds I’d bought months earlier and forgotten. I didn’t even check what kind they were. I dug into the soil behind the building and planted them, hands numb with cold, heart pounding for reasons I couldn’t explain.
A neighbor saw me and asked what I was doing.
“Planting something,” I said.
He nodded, as if that was reason enough.
VIII
Weeks later, small green shoots appeared, fragile and determined. I watered them every morning. Watching them grow felt like being forgiven.
I began to speak aloud to the plants. At first just updates — “You’re doing well,” “Keep going.” Then, one day, I said, “She would’ve liked you,” and the words came out softer than I meant.
Grief, I learned, doesn’t only live in memory. It lives in hands — in the doing, the tending, the ordinary acts of care that bring you back to the world.
IX
I started volunteering at the hospice where she’d spent her final months. I helped organize shelves, made tea, sometimes just sat with people who didn’t want to be alone.
One woman asked if dying hurt.
I told her, “I think it’s like falling asleep listening to someone you love.”
She smiled. “Then I hope I hear music.”
After each shift, I’d walk past her old room. The scent of lavender still lingered. I imagined her by the window, saying, “You see? Life keeps going, even here.”
X
A year after she died, the flowers I planted bloomed — sunflowers.
Tall, stubborn, golden. They faced east every morning, hungry for light.
I took one of her tapes to the garden, played it softly through the old recorder. The sound was warped now, stretched thin with use. Her voice faded in and out, but I could still catch pieces:
“…keep… breathing…”
“…find what’s kind…”
“…I love you…”
I sat there until the tape ended. Then I rewound it and pressed play again.
When the sun began to rise, I whispered, “Okay. I will.”
XI
The second year was quieter. The sharp edges of loss softened into something slower, like weathering stone.
I began to remember her not only in death but in life — the way she’d sing off-key in the car, how she’d always burn the first pancake, the way she’d squeeze my hand twice to say I love you in code.
Sometimes I caught myself humming her songs without realizing. I think that’s how grief teaches you — by returning in disguise.
XII
One afternoon, I returned to the reservoir. The water shimmered under a thin winter sun. I sat and listened to the faint hum of the city behind me — the trains, the dogs, the far-off church bells.
It all felt strangely synchronized, as if the world was breathing with me.
I closed my eyes and said, “You’re still here.”
Not a question this time. A statement.
XIII
Spring again.
I decided to paint her old room — soft blue, the color of calm. While painting, I found a small envelope taped behind the dresser. Inside was a pressed flower and a note in her handwriting:
“For when you need proof that something fragile can last.”
I pinned it to the wall.
XIV
I started baking again — her recipes, mostly from memory. The kitchen filled with cinnamon and warmth. The first loaf burned, the second was better, and the third I took to the hospice.
An old man there told me, “Your mother raised you well.”
I said, “She’s still doing it.”
XV
Sometimes I talk to her picture. I tell her about the garden, about the people I meet, about the way time still startles me.
I imagine her replying, the way she used to — gently teasing, always kind.
Grief, I’ve learned, is just another form of conversation. One without interruption.
XVI
Summer came heavy with storms. Lightning fractured the sky, and rain beat the windows until everything smelled like earth again.
I sat by the window and played her final tape once more. The static was louder now, her words softer, but they still found me:
“Keep finding what’s kind.”
Outside, thunder rolled. I whispered, “I’m trying.”
XVII
The garden had grown wild — sunflowers taller than me, ivy curling along the fence. Neighbors left small things among the flowers: a child’s drawing, a single candle, a note that said Thank you for the light.
I didn’t know who left them. Maybe they didn’t know either. Maybe grief connects us all that way — strangers recognizing each other in the quiet.
XVIII
I went through her clothes, finally. I gave most away, but kept one sweater — gray, soft, worn at the cuffs. When I wear it, it feels like memory against my skin.
I found a faint scent of her perfume on it. It broke me, but in a way that felt almost gentle.
XIX
Sometimes I still dream of her. Not as she was in the hospital, but younger — laughing, hair wind-tangled, standing by the reservoir again.
In the dream, she never speaks. She just looks at me, and the look says everything words never could: You made it.
XX
People ask if I believe in an afterlife.
I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t matter.
What I do know is this: we don’t disappear.
We become the things we’ve loved — the hands that comfort, the words that linger, the songs that outlive their singers.
Sometimes I sit in the garden and let the air move through me. The sunflowers sway, tall and gold, bowing slightly in the wind. It looks like they’re listening.
The world hasn’t stopped.
It never did.
But neither did I.
Because grief is not the opposite of life — it’s proof of it.
Because love does not end — it echoes.
Because pain does not define us — what we do after it does.
And yet.
And yet, I rise.
And yet, I hope.
And yet, I go on.

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Weekly #1: Different Forms of Writing || 1153/1000 words
Welcome to the very first weekly of the SWC November 2025 session! Thank you to our sponsors, Taylor Swift, Kermit the Frog, and Princess Twilight Sparkle! For this weekly, we'll be looking at various forms of writing. From poetry, to songwriting, to scriptwriting, to speeches, you’ll be working with all of them! And don’t worry if you’re unsure about any of them because we have several workshops to help guide you through these different forms of writing! Have fun and good luck, legends!

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Part 1: Poetry || 102 words
Pick up your pens and let your imagination roam…you guessed it, legends! It's time to write a poem. Whether it's a mythic epic or lovelorn sonnet, poetry comes in many forms and voices, and now it's your turn to play with words and create something harmonious, humorous, or heartbreaking – the possibilities are limitless. First, read through Zai's wonderful workshop on poetry here, and then use what you've learned to start crafting your own. Your finished poem should be at least 100 words long. May the fates be with you, poets!

That winter night
The wind was whispering
I saw a meteor on the sky
And it left me wondering

It only lasted an instant
But it made me think
What else in the world
Exists for only a sec?

Emotions, perhaps?
The happiness we're feeling
When we get inspired
To write or draw freely

Or the sunrise,
When the sky is colorful
We forget our problems
And everything looks beautiful

But these, even though
They may sometimes last a while
They always fade quickly
And remain only as a file

We will likely never open again
Hidden deep inside our minds forever

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Part 2: Songwriting || 325 words
Now that you've delved into the world of poetry, it's time to channel your inner Taylor Swift, Ed Sheeran, *insert favourite singer here* because it's time to write a song. There are so many genres, styles and themes, so here to guide you is this workshop by the amazing Alba. Then, it's over to you to write 200 number of words. Happy songwriting!

Verse 1
That day
I was sitting alone in the dark
Looking at all my friends in the park
Wondering, what have I done wrong to deserve it (to deserve it)

Pre-chorus
Why did I wait?
Why did I wait to be asked?
Why did I stay just silent?
Why didn't I speak up?

Chorus
That was the first time
I felt truly lonely
I had never thought of it before

That was the first time
I felt I needed someone (to talk to)
I had never thought of it before

(ooh ooh) I had never thought of it before

Verse 2
That night
I was lying on my bed
Thinking that I would just forget
But I couldn't pretend it anymore

Pre-chorus
Why did I wait?
Why did I wait to be asked?
Why did I stay just silent?
Why didn't I speak up?

Chorus
That was the first time
I felt truly lonely
I had never thought of it before

That was the first time
I felt I needed someone (to talk to)
I had never thought of it before

(ooh ooh) I had never thought of it before

Bridge
I've always been told that being different is good
I've always been taught to do what I wanted to choose
But now I believe that's just a lie
Whenever I try to choose freely
There's always someone who tells me
That I am just weird, that they can't believe me
That they will never understand me

Pre-chorus
Why did I wait?
Why did I wait to be asked?
Why did I stay just silent?
Why didn't I speak up?

Chorus
That was the first time
I felt truly lonely
I had never thought of it before

That was the first time
I felt I needed someone (to talk to)
I had never thought of it before

(ooh ooh) I had never thought of it before

But now, for the first time, I have

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Part 3: Scriptwriting || 322 words
We've done poems, songs… What's next? We'll, I'm glad you asked—head on over to this workshop by the wonderful Finley, which will provide you with ample information to begin setting the scene for your very own script. To complete this part of the weekly, write a script (or screenplay, as some might call it) for a theatrical scene of your imagination in no less than 300 words. Best of luck, dear screenwriter!

THE SPACE STATION
LAYLA and NAOMI are floting around, in a room full of buttons and switches. They are looking at the Earth, through the window. Suddenly, they hear an alarm, and the screens start flashing.
NAOMI: (turns around) What's happening?
LAYLA: I have no idea, but… (presses a button) the space debris have hit the space station! Quick, we have to tell th-
ALEX: (Opens the door and enters)What's happe-
NAOMI: The space debris! Look! (she points at the screen) This is a mape of the space station, and these parts are damaged.
ALEX: Oh, no… This part is the engine. If this breaks, we will lose our fuel. We still have the solar panels, but it isn't enough to counter the effects of gravity… Believe it or not, there's still friction here, even though we are technically in space, and we're losing momentum…
LAYLA: You sound like a nerd!
ALEX: Aren't we all nerds?
LAYLA: (smiles) Well, that's true.
NAOMI: Yeah, but let's fix the space station first! Let's talk to Mark, he's the engineer. Quick, we don't have a lot of time.

THE EARTH
SAM: We've received an alert. Something is wrong up there.
MIRA: What happens?
SAM: Look. Space debris have hit the spaceship. There (SAM points at the screen)
JOE: Oh, no. I'm going to talk to them. (He presses a few keys on his keyboard and starts talking) Hello? Can you hear me?
MARK: (talking through the radio) Yes… Kind of. The quality isn't great, but it works.
JOE: Alright. What's happening?
MARK: Well, some space debris have hit our engine. It isn't important, but if we don't fix it soon, the fuel will leak and the vacuum outside will suck it out and… We will lose it.
JOE: Alright. Time to spacewalk. Your team will have to fix it.
MARK: We'll fix it now. We're almost-
The radio makes some static noise and stops working.

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Part 4: Speechwriting || 404 words
Greetings, legends! For the final part of this weekly, you'll be writing a speech! First, go to this wonderful workshop by Fae in order to learn everything you need about speeches. Next, choose a topic. Your topic can be anything from mangoes, to trees, to Taylor Swift, to robots. The world is your oyster, so go and seize the day! Have fun, speakers! Or, should I say, SWC-peakers? ;D Maybe not… anyways, write a speech of 400 words in order to complete this part of the weekly!

(This is dedicated to all my classmates) (Sorry if you don't like physics)
Imagine being able to go through walls. Imagine being able to stop time. Imagine escaping from the solar system using only an orange rock. Imagine seeing things in the dark. Got it? All these things are possible with physics. Yes, they are.
Physics is cool. Don't tell me it isn't. You can literally predict what's going to happen if you have enough data. You can see things going through walls - well, not exactly see, but yeah. You can make things explode, you can reach Pluto using a rock to power a spaceship, and you can see things that happened billions of years ago. You can film things the human eye can't see. You can connect two things even if they are thousands of kilometers apart. You can calculate the speed you need to see the red lights become green thanks to the Doppler effect. You can move so fast that time stops for you. Or, you can just sit there without moving or doing anything. But wait, can you? No, according to Heisenberg, you can never stop moving completely! Physics is just so mindblowing.
And yes, physics is hard. But don't you feel satisfied when you find the answer to something you've always wondered about? Don't you enjoy finding more about mindblowing things, concepts that sound like you are in a science-fiction movie, or inventions you thought we would never be able to create?
I get that, if you don't understand something, you'll find it boring and nonsensical. But when you do understand it, it's incredible. And there's always more. In physics, there are always new things to discover. So don't be afraid of the unknown. Don't be afraid of what you don't understand. Embrace the mysteries around the most extreme concepts. Is there a minimum size something can have? Is there a way to rip a hole through space-time? Spoiler: the answer to both questions is yes. Embrace the mysteries around the most extreme concepts. Ask questions, even if they sound stupid, and try to look for answers instead of just forgetting about what you asked. Because that's what Newton did. He asked: Why does the apple fall? Why doesn't the Moon fall? And now, he's one of the most famous scientists in the world. And this applies to other areas too, not just physics. If you start asking questions now, you might become the next Newton.
Thank you so much for listening.

WEEKLY 1 (total 1,321 words)
Part 1: Poetry

night
drowns out.
the sun sighs,
its tender hands
a warm joy anew
laid bare on frosted fields.
colour screams, cacophonies,
bees find great feasts of sweet nectar,
birds see rainbows fallen before them.
scream your name out to the end of the world.
no human is here to respond to your song,
but every living thing speaks the language of joy.
you ask, ‘what here will ever comfort me when i am falling?’
only the birds that call us, joyous song everlasting,
only the roughened trees that stood through every drought and winter,
only the knowledge that if these things are beautiful, so are we.
(106 words)

Part 2: Songwriting

Ooh, I heard (x3)
Bug spray! (ba doo ba doo)
I heard you got bugs roamin’ in your place
Those naughty creepy crawlies got you feelin’ unsafe
And I don’t know about you, but when the winter’s through
Yeah, it’s like those flies just gotta infiltrate!

Are you tired of the huntsmen and fire ants?
Are caterpillars just a-nibblin’ on your outdoor plants?
Those roaches got you sick in the kitchen?
Well, I’ve got a proposition for you…

(Use bug spray)
Don’t fret when you get the bottle in your hand
(Use bug spray)
One spray’s enough to kick ‘em right out of the sand
(Use bug spray)
You don’t need to scream, you don’t need to shout
‘Cause all you gotta do is spray, and you’ll knock ‘em right out

Haven’t you heard about the answer to your crisis?
The good ol’ spray will become your new vice!
It’s the perfect solution to the bugs beneath your bed
Oh, haven’t you heard all the things they’ve said?

(Use bug spray)
Don’t fret when you get the bottle in your hand
(Use bug spray)
One spray’s enough to kick ‘em right out of the sand
(Use bug spray)
You don’t need to scream, you don’t need to shout
‘Cause all you gotta do is spray, and you’ll knock ‘em right out
(221 words)

Part 3: Scriptwriting (300 words)

SCENE 1: OCEAN
An ocean with shifting waves and various sea creatures swimming around. Enter FISH, sitting on the seafloor and looking sad and lonely.
FISH
(dramatically depressed)
What is here for me in this desolate place? Oh, I wish I were a human being. I would fly on land and I would write long stories and I would make great things and I-
BARRAMUNDI
(deadpan)
Mate, you’d be fishing. Like, grabbing us all out of the water and eating us. And don’t think you’re safe just ‘cause you’re the main character or whatever.
(BARRAMUNDI looks at the audience and raises their eyebrow.)
FISH
(exasperated)
I am trying to make a point! Humans are higher up on the food chain. It makes sense that they’d eat tiny things like us. And my great thinking brain is utterly useless down here. All animals care about is survival, but humans are doing greater things.
(FISH looks wistfully at the surface. BARRAMUNDI rolls their eyes and swims off.)
FISH
Maybe… maybe one day, magic will happen to me too.
(A human with a net swims down towards FISH.)
FISH
(looking at audience)
Is today my day? Maybe they have found a way to turn us lowly fish into humans. They are so caring… the metal is so beautiful on them. I wonder if I’ll get a suit like that when I become one. They’ll love me, I’m sure…
(FISH gets slowly entangled in the net and the ocean’s set piece drops lower and lower.)
FISH
Thank you, my saviours!
(FISH is dumped into a boat, which slowly sails offstage. FISH is seen in a tank.)

SCENE 2: TANK
An aquarium at a zoo with lots of exotic fish swimming around and people pointing at them excitedly. FISH looks considerably happier than in scene 1.
FISH
(dancing, singing)
Today is the day! I’ll become a human once and for all! No longer will I be a loathsome fish…
ANGELFISH
(with the energy of That One Older Kid who tells the main character how horrible school is at the start of the movie)
Sweetie, you’re never turning into one of them.
(ANGELFISH scowls at the humans outside the aquarium.)
FISH
(dramatically)
What? No! You’re kidding, right?
ANGELFISH
(rolls eyes)
No, sweetie. You are a fish. A horrible, loathsome fish who is never going to become human because humans don’t care about us. They just want a pretty little pet that looks nice and doesn’t do anything. You ever wondered why they don’t have any carp in here?
FISH
I just thought… I just thought they cared about me. I thought I was special.
ANGELFISH
(softer)
You’ll learn to live like this, sweetie. Hey, you never have to live in fear again. And… you’ll be close to humans all the time.
FISH
Yeah. I guess you’re right.
ANGELFISH
Heh. Maybe you’ll learn how to speak English.
(FISH and ANGELFISH make exaggerated English-like sounds and laugh, while humans point to them and smile. Scene fades out.)
(499 words)

Part 4: Speech (400 words)

We need to band together.
Fantasy is undoubtedly the best cabin; everyone here knows that. We have the best leaders, we have the best theme, we have the most mangoes. But there is one thing we don’t have, and that’s the top spot on the TrackBear teams leaderboard. The pomp and ceremony is currently in the hands of Magical Realism. But we can change that. The only solution is to band together and write. And there are so many ways to do that, but I’ll give you a few today.
First, the undisputed best churner of words: cabin wars. It’s chaos. It’s tension. It’s a high-paced package in which the only way to win is to spew words like you were born an SWCer. I know from experience that people can write more in one cabin war-filled day than in a week. And… well, who doesn’t dream of an excuse to do a penguin waddle after every five hundred words? Cabin wars is the perfect opportunity to be co-stars in the incredible chaotic cinema that is the Fantasy Cabin, and we get to beat Magical Realism (and bash our enemies with wars) while doing it! What’s not to love?
The second way to get words is by doing weeklies. Weeklies are a constant topic of speedrunning, and it’s always better when you’re being encouraged rather than doing it alone. In itself, weeklies are amazing. They’ll push you out of your comfort zone and challenge you to push further or go deeper into a topic you haven’t looked into much. But weeklies can be challenging, and often (as seen by the huge speedrunning community) we put it off. This is why we need to band together as a cabin. When we support each other and lift each other up, not only will we get more words and more points, but we’ll create a strong culture that will enable us to write beyond just the weeklies. If we support each other now, we’ll support each other in the bigger projects.
And the third way - you’re going to groan - work on those larger projects. SWC is all about passion. Write what you’re passionate about. Absorb yourself in your work, your world, your characters. If we keep doing the things we love, we’ll fly past MagReal, and we’ll have so much to be proud of. It’s not always easy - that’s why we support each other. Cheer on your fellow campers. If we all put in the effort, we’ll be smiling at the end, and we’ll be smiling with our teammates. Everything is better with others.
As of submitting this weekly, MagReal is 2,251 words in front of us. We can bridge that gap. We can surpass MagReal easily, but the solution is not to try and struggle with your own string. The solution is to knit ourselves together and pull each other forward until every other cabin is far behind us.
We need to band together.
(493 words)

Part 2 - Songwriting

Working title: The Bridge to Nowhere

360 words without ‘verse’ and ‘chorus’ etc


Verse 1:

Running, running away,
To a once precious place,
Memories lost in the abyss…
Oh, how, how do I hold on?
When my, my only light is gone?
I need you to come help me,
Oh, now that I’m drowning…


Pre-chorus:

I try to hide the hurt,
That claws at me day and night,
I try to hide my pain,
But I know it will continue to bite



Chorus:

I’m trying to keep my head afloat,
But I keep slipping under,
Oh, I need your life boat,
Cause now I am stuck,
Stuck on the bridge to nowhere,
Trapped in a world with no end.
I can't see ahead,
All I feel is dread,
That I’ll forever be stuck on the bridge to nowhere…


Verse 2:

Hiding from the heartbreak,
I feel can feel myself slipping away,
Can I do this anymore?
Oh, how, how do I stay?
When I feel my heart start to fray?
I need you to hold me up high,
Now that I’m slowly drowning…




Pre-chorus:

I try to hide the ache,
That claws at me day and night,
I try to hide the sting,
But I know it will continue to bite


Chorus:

I’m trying to keep my head afloat,
But I keep slipping under,
Oh, I need your life boat,
Cause now I am stuck,
Stuck on the bridge to nowhere,
Trapped in a world with no end.
I can't see ahead,
All I feel is dread,
That I’ll forever be stuck on the bridge to nowhere…


Bridge

Where do I go now?
Why couldn’t I see?
That this would happen,
That I would never be free?



Pre-chorus:

I try to hide the burn,
That claws at me day and night,
I try to hide the pang,
Of misery,
But I know it will continue to bite


Chorus:

I’m trying to keep my head afloat,
But I keep slipping under,
Oh, I need your life boat,
Cause now I am stuck,
Stuck on the bridge to nowhere,
Trapped in a world with no end.
I can't see ahead,
All I feel is dread,
That I’ll forever be stuck on the bridge to nowhere…
That I’ll forever be stuck on the bridge to nowhere…

Poem 179 words
In a world of deceit, there lies a single truth,
Not governed by the rules of Youth;
Tales from a realm as old as Time,
Every last story, in the Universe’s archives
Restoring Harmony to the expanse beyond
Silently guarding, what we once knew and fond

Every next generation went on, slowly
Covering up the scars of the Past;
Time’s a cruel spirit, as per so, they say,
In between every moment, seconds felt like the last.

Never having been souls willing to face the wrath of Defeat,
Guides from all over Interlock promised to meet.
Days, weeks, and months walk on by, yet
In a solid, frozen instant, their worlds shall collide.
Moment, by moment, the stories unfurled
Each one more aching than the last, finally brought to light in this world

Now, in the present, that world once we knew
seems to have dissipated, lost betwiXt the abyss of Time;
Inviting all those who dare to venture within;
Our light may have been restored, yet our quest has only begun…

Nsyjwrnxxnaj ljsjwfynts ijyjhyji. Gjbfwj, uwthjji bnym hfzynts.


Part 2 - Song - 378 words

Aren't you just never happy?
All this in front of you but don't agree?
What else can I even do
To make you think of me a little higher
What do you want from me, cause
I can't guarantee you'll find it from here
Look back at how you came to be
What makes you think that I’ll fall on your feet

Without any hesitation
I turn back from the toxicated world
Too bad if you feel dejection
Cause I don't take your words into consideration
Won't let them change who we are
Don’t you think I’ll ever be like those
Prettified lies, trying too hard
To even make a sound

Just
Show’n up late to the party
Got all your eyes on my ‘normalities’
Stop, drop, now do you get me?
Nonetheless we are
Always what we are
Step down from forced custodies
Off with all these crazy ‘formalities’
Get loud, with the spark in me
Nonetheless we are
Always what we are

Look, I just wanna dance ‘till I fall asleep
Isn't that what we all want? Just wanna be free
When we make the world ours they can't control me
Cause now, nonetheless we are
Always what we are

Guess I’ll never be happy
With what the world is, I’m falling asleep
Can’t I make my own choices
Forcing me down isn't gonna break me anyway

Show’n up late to the party
Got all your eyes on my ‘normalities’
Stop, drop, now do you get me?
Nonetheless we are
Always what we are
Step down from forced custodies
Off with all these crazy ‘formalities’
Get loud, with the spark in me
Nonetheless we are
Always what we are

Show’n up
Late to the party
Got all
Your eyes are on me
Stop, drop
Now do you get me?
Nonetheless we are
Always what we are

Step down from forced custodies
Off with all these crazy ‘formalities’
Get loud, with the spark in me
Nonetheless we are
Always what we are
Look, I just wanna dance ‘till I fall asleep
Isn't that what we all want? Just wanna be free
When we make the world ours they can't control me
Cause now, nonetheless we are
Always what we are

Nonetheless we are
Always what we are


Part 3 - Script - 344 words
(Setting: A regular living room. The calm and wise FLOORBOARD, having been in this apartment for over 80 years, has had to get used to the now frequent visits from some… ceiling invaders, so to say.)

FLOORBOARD
Alright, alright. You’re-

*CRASH*
(The CEILING implodes inwards. It appears someone has broken through.)

CEILING
OH, COME ON. WHO IS IT THIS TIME.

*CRASH*
*CRASH*
*CRASH*

(CHAIR, RUG, and COUCH fall in through the newly created hole in the ceiling.)

CHAIR
AAAAAAAAAAAAAA- I’M FALLING-

COUCH
I’m not from this floor, geez-

*CRASH*
*CRASH*

(LAMP and PLUG also fall into the current floor, through the seemingly ever-expanding hole separating the floor with the one above.)

LAMP
What- …What is this place-

*CRASH*

(RUBBER GOOSE is sent flying through the hole in the ceiling.)

RUBBER GOOSE
HONK!

FLOORBOARD
Hold on, what is going on? I wasn’t finished-

*CRASH*

(A SOFA drops from the top floor, crashing straight onto the couch.)

RUG
Dunno what’cha talking about! This is fun.

RUBBER GOOSE
100%! …HONK HONK HONK.

COUCH
GET OFF OF ME!!

SOFA
YOU THINK I DON’T WANT TO??

CEILING
WILL YOU ALL STOP IT? I CAN’T STAND ANY MORE BREAKAGE-

*CRASH*
*CRASH*

(POT and TONGS slide through the gap and land with a loud CLANG onto the floor.)

POT
Whoa, this place is sick.

TONGS
Can we stay-?

FLOORBOARD
(Groans) This makes-

*CRASH*

(a roll of PLASTIC BAGS is sent tumbling through the opening.)

PLASTIC BAG A
WHAT’S GOOD, ANTARCTICA!

PLASTIC BAG B
This isn’t Antarctica-

PLASTIC BAG C
SO?? IT’S LOW-

FLOORBOARD
-no se-

*CRASH*

(A BAG OF CHIPS lands on top of the chair and slides off of it.)

FLOORBOARD
(Getting increasingly irritated, despite his usual calm demeanor) -nse-

*CRASH*

(A SACK OF FRUITS drops through the hole, each individual fruit sent tumbling onto the floor.)

FLOORBOARD
-whatsoeve-

*CRASH*

(A MANGO enters.)

FLOORBOARD
r. How is it possible-

*CRASH*

(So does a FRYING PAN.)

FLOORBOARD
-that- (He feels the weight of the massive pile of furniture that sat on top of him.) …Oh, gosh. You all, can we-

*CRASH.*




Part 4 - Speech - 458 words
Have you ever wondered why your project has never made it to fruition? Yes, you— each and every one of you, whether you have been part of this community for a month or twenty-eight. Perhaps you were able to gather a large following, a significant amount of views and general attention to your projects, for say, yet it still manages to collapse in on itself for reasons you might not be able to name. This— all of this, I guarantee, was caused by one problem at the center of it all.

And that, my friends, is commitment. Or, more specifically, the lack thereof.

In case you were wondering: No, I’m no retrocognitive, nor am I a psychic of any kind (though, I am mayhaps a mentalist of sorts ))). However, I can guarantee that I have been a member of this community since the beginning of the year 2023, when I first stumbled across a studio through the method commonly known as “stalking”. Such a measly name for a fine craft of this sort, yes, though I suppose it’ll do for right now.

Ahem.

I have, throughout the past two or so years, managed and co-managed various companies, as well as participated in and observed multiple different large-scale projects within the industry. Most of these, they start out well. Really well, in fact. I’ve seen a single project surpass half of a thousand views. It feels great in the moment, yes, but at what cost? The one that, quite ironically enough, doesn’t exist, as you’ll likely see most, if not all of your co-hosts, participants, and members leave without a prior warning within the span of a few months.

It is just that bad. Groups that may have had a wildly successful debut rarely make it to a first comeback. It pains me to see all of these companies, set up with such an amount of effort, having to close down within less than half a year. All the time it took them to not only come up with the idea, have it executed, and build up a name… This goes for individual idols as well. Yes, you may be one out of twenty-five in a survival show, but think about the amount of people that wanted to sign up but couldn’t because they were too late. The time it’d take to re-organize all the teams because one person left. We’d be lucky, in this case, if it was just a reduction to 24, but oftentimes the act of a single person leaving ends up causing a domino effect that leads to half the participants gone.

Ladies and gentlemen. For the sake of preserving this wonderful community for the generations to come, please.
Commit only to what you can.

50 Headed Hydra
466/500 words

hi here is my fifty headed hydra nad i managed to do this earlier today so hopefuly i can do this again but maybe i dont know so lets see what do i write about okay ill write about a girl called i dont know a agirl called swcer so swcer was living her lovely life of writing and reading and rpocrasitnating and eating mangoes until one day she looked at the sky and said ehello why cant i think of any writing movitation? and the voice from up above repleid ‘that is totally fine of course you cant always have motivation and inspiriation evne though you may want to’ and n swcer said ‘okay that’s fine' and off she went to the park. on the way to the park it started raining so she went back to get her raincoat but then it started snowing so she went back to get her boots but then there were autumn leaves falling everywhere so she simply had to go get her um umbrella i dont know and then she was nearly at the park when a heatwave came on and she had to go put her coat and wellies and um umbrella back and then she finally went to the park. when she got to the park she realised it wasn't actually a park and it was just a really big garbage truck. but it was too late by then because she alraeady said that she was att the park to all her friends so she had to go meet them. running down the road, she swished through the gates of the park, and screeched to a stop when she saw her friends, who somehow congratuleated her scent and weidryl enough genuinely appreciaited it. i know that i am doing a fifty headed hydra so why do i keep on using super long wrods um okay continuing on i keep on deleting what im writing and wasting my time which i can not do so basically i wrote this and wrote that and that this the story of swcer and her marvellous friends she was walking home when gurtle flew out of the sky and said chomp then went and ate a link. so she wasn’t to go buy some mangoes but it didn’t really work out for her because the store had no mangoes because it was a fashion store but she just didnt realise so she had to go find a food sotore so she could get those mangoes and so she did but it wasnt really close because she lived in the middle of this weird pond like shrek okay fine her real name isn’t sewer its shrekia idk and yeah well she went to the shops finally only to find that there was

Critique for Asha

First off, reading through this poem, it was just amazing. It was super emotive and conveyed such a beautiful message and the writing really resonated within me <3 You’ve done an amazing job, and I have no idea how I’m going to critique such an incredible piece! I have done more of a section by section style as I just find it easier for this sort of thing. If you want me to add anything then just mention it to me

And Yet
Hope is not a song.
It is a scream
choked down
so no one else has to hear it.
It is rising
when your legs are dust,
when your spine is splintered
with every yesterday
that didn’t let you live.

I loved this start to the poem - I’ve never heard any poem start like this (‘and yet’) and I actually really like it. I only have two comments on this verse - I noticed throughout most of the poem, you only used full stops or (semi) colons, and no commas which made the poem hit more, more disjointed in a (good) way, but that matched the theme. So on the line ‘when your legs are dust’ I think you should get rid of the comma. My other point is about the rule of three, and I expected to have three lines beginning with ‘when’ but there were only two, so I think it would add even more emphasis if you added three lines beginning with ‘when.’ Maybe something like ‘when your mind/heart/soul is numb.’

Pain teaches.
But not kindly.
It carves its lessons
into the marrow,
leaves you fluent in silence,
a scholar of absence.
We wear love like a wound,
call it beautiful
because if we don’t,
what was the point
of all that bleeding?
No one tells you
that the ones who shine the most
have often stood the longest
in the fire.

I’ve got no complaints whatsoever. I absolutely loved all of this verse, especially the last few lines which I thought were beautiful. I love how insightful this extract is, and I know I’ve already said this earlier, but these words really hit you so hard, and I think that they will really connect with your reader. If I was being super nit-picky, then I didn’t really understand ‘carves into the marrow’ as I thought it would be the bone, as marrow is soft, but that’s probably just me being dumb

And suffering—
oh, it is faithful.
It does not forget your name.
It comes to sit beside you
when the rest have turned away.
A companion. A curse.
A mirror.
But still—
still—
somewhere inside the breaking,
there is the faintest breath
that whispers:
“And yet.”
And yet, you rise.
And yet, you hope.

Nothing much wrong with this one either! I loved the dashes - they added so much depth to this extract of the piece. I think a capital letter might be a good idea for the beginning of the second line, but that’s just a suggestion - it’s not essential, and it really depends on what you think is best! Again about the rule of three at the end of this extract, you could try and add that to the end of it. I thought it would be good to have ‘And yet you live.’

Not because you are fearless—
but because fear has kissed your hands
and you carried on anyway.
There is a love
in surviving
when you were not meant to.
In building,
with bare hands,
a life the world tried
to bury.
There is beauty
in those who stay soft
after the world made them hard.
Who bend,
and break,
and bend again—
but do not vanish.
So don’t speak to me
of light
without the dark.

Oh my goodness Asha! This poem just gets better and better and better the further I read on! I genuinely have nothing to criticise about this part of the poem. Again, I think that the message you are conveying is beautiful, and I don’t know how you have created such incredible quotes - if I had this on my kindle I would be highlighting so many lines in this!

Don’t preach joy
without naming grief.
Tell me the truth.
That it hurts.
That you are tired.
That you wish it was easier.
And I will look you in the eyes
and say—
Me too
And yet
We go on

What an amazing end to this poem, Asha! The only point I have about this part is that you could have a full stop at the end of ‘me too’ to make it have a bigger impact?
Overall, I had a brilliant time critiquing this piece! It was just such a beautiful poem, and if I’m being honest one of the best pieces of writing I’ve read on SWC. It resonates so deep within me, and definitely it will other people as well. I would highly recommend putting this forward to the writing comp (when it’s released) as it is just so highly skilled and simply extraordinary. Thank you for letting me critique this piece, and I hope this helps.

Hi Leopard!! Thanks for giving me the opportunity to critique your poetry! I absolutely love the theme of this collection, and it’s so beautifully written too. I hope this critique is helpful to you in further refining your draft! I’ll give you my overview poem by poem if that’s okay!



Poem 1: Beyond the Grave

beyond the grave?
oh darling…
there’s nothing there but

mud
worms
coffin
bones
rot
death

The End.

Okay my initial thoughts on this poem is that it starts off really beautifully. I love the opening stanza, and then the choice to go immediately into a list followed by the capitalisation of “The End.” with a full stop was just so effective. I felt immediately drawn in by this, and the sudden change in tone from a sweet to a dark tone was just so effective in making me feel something.

imagine the gravestone, a name
inscribed deep into the stone
like a knife carved deep into flesh
as if that, or anything, will keep them alive.
‘beloved’
‘dearest’
For now, maybe that’s true
but time will grave-rob the truth
as their names slip into the mudslide of history.
what - beloved bones, dearest decay?
or just another body lost in the maze,
another coffin silent in another grave…

Then, the first of two stanzas that feel more like a traditional poem! I feel like this poem deals with the idea of impermanence and it definitely comes across in these lines. The imagery of the gravestone is so effective, and I like your simile of “like a life carved deep into flesh.” However, I feel like this stanza doesn’t flow as well as it could. I’d suggest breaking into another stanza after “as if that, or anything, will keep them alive.” since it feels like you’re talking about a new topic here. The rest of this stanza is absolutely amazing! No critique here.

And there are no memories
that side of the stone.
their bones are white
as the programme of the songs you sing, dressed in black,
as the tissues that soak up your tears.
no matter how much you cherish them
as you sob before the stone,
your tears can drill holes in earth
but nothing can undo the hearse -
what lies within is earth, wood… bones.
locks of hair curl around the
empty.
skull
where no thoughts lurk
because
they
are
Dead.

Then the next stanza here flows really nicely. I like how you go into using one word per line towards the end and end with “Dead.” It's such an effective way to close off the stanza and leads perfectly into the end.

prefer that explanation?
no? well it’s only going to get worse from here.
i’d say sorry. but I’m not.

Pretty cheery stuff, hey?

I really like how you ended the poem, it’s got such a British sense of humour and I love it.

Overall, I really liked how this was a mix between traditional poetry styles and more modern styles. It’s awesome.



Poem 2: Rotting Platitudes

YAYYY more traditional poem!!!

‘love never dies’ apparently,
that's what they say.

So my first thought is that your opening stanza was absolutely amazing - I liked how you took a saying and made me question it. It’s a strong opening and I think it really intrigued me.

load of good that was,
my heart’s compost now.
it lies deep in the ground, enshrouded
in mulch. Sprouting mould at the edges
like a warm winter coat,
but maybe that’s how it’s meant to be…

Your second stanza is really lovely, and I don’t think I have anything to add here!

the worms lean our names by heart
as they churn a vat of euphemisms
that fuel the comforting inferno of lies.

Third stanza!! I like how you describe the idea of rotting away/decomposing here with the idea of the worms. I do think “lean” should be “learn” though? I also think this stanza, while really lovely, feels a bit confusing to me? For me, the first line doesn’t really go into the second and third lines, so maybe that could be reworked?

‘they’re proud of you’ supposedly
well, nobody’s ever received a gold star
from someone 6 feet under.

BAHAHA NOT THE GOLD STAR CONCEPT SOBBING- (primary school flashback over) ANYWAYS!! I really enjoyed this stanza of the poem, the HUMOUR of the gold star here oh my gosh- I love how this stanza deals with the concept of legacy and how most of us don’t really have one that lasts. It’s a great stanza.

‘never forget them’
but honestly?
my name will soften in your mouth
like old fruit-
the memories have long passed their expiration date.

Love the break in this stanza - it’s so effective, and how it deals with the concept of the human memory being rather short (I can speak for myself, my memory is bad…) I don’t really have anything to gripe with on this stanza!

‘they’re in a better place now’
funny, if anyone’s been
they’d have sent a postcard
or posted a selfie I could like.
there’s no good in that now,
no service underground.

Okay penultimate stanza - I like the opening with a common saying, it brings a new sense of intrigue into this! I like how you compare this to travelling and how you deconstructed the idea of the saying “they’re in a better place now” really just being a lie.

It’s all very well saying forever,
but forever decomposed first.

FINA STANZA - I love this stanza so much. I like the way it deals with the idea of how forever is not forever with the final line. Overall, this was a wonderful poem!



Poem 3: TTYL

I loved u
thx 4 yr time.
it meant smth, i think
Idrk
Idk how 2 miss u tho, tbh
maybe a hashtag would help?
tbh, idk
idk..
idk idk id-

I don’t know.
All I know is-

Grief with rubbish wifi,
mourning in 3G.
My connection lost mid memory
liked posts consoling me.
And drafts still linger in the inbox
of the emotions left unsaid
but what use is that, when you’re already d-

gone?

I know typing dots control my heartbeat
and I’ve said so many lies,
I don’t really ‘gtg’
and ‘lol’ won’t hide my cries.
This artificial living won’t save me
while I look for you above
wait did living autocorrect?
I meant to type lo-

I can’t say it. Not now.

Idk.
emotions are hard over text.

My phone pulses with autocorrected condolences
and my heart
pulses with notifications of my
pain.

So, pls brb asap…

Ttyl
Or not.
Idk.

I guess I’ll be rotting one day too.
just another rotting abbreviation.

Oooh okay! So first thoughts on this poem: I like how you chose to go with something more modern for contrast with the more traditional poem you just wrote. I really enjoyed how you presented this poem as a series of text messages of someone, and I thought it was really effective. I don’t really have much to critique for this poem - I like it as it is!



Poem 4: We ‘regret’ to inform you…

Inbox (1)

Subject: Employee Status Notice

Good morning,
We regret to inform you that you have been reassigned
to nothingness.

A minute’s silence will be observed in honour of your memory.
Unpaid.
Or maybe a silence forever.

Kind regards.


Inbox (1)

Subject: T&Cs

Good afternoon,
I am writing to confirm the terms and conditions
Of your recent death,
Which we reiterate we are not liable for.

By dying, you consent to:
A loss of legacy,
The possibility of side effects including, but not limited to
Loss of vision,
Permanent paralysis
And rot of all flesh.

For queries concerning resurrection,
Please see clause 7b.

Thank you for your time.


Inbox (1)

Subject: Tomorrow’s forecast

Good evening,
Quick update on tomorrow’s forecast.
Scattered funerals, light mourning by the coast,
Bringing in high pressure in the chest by dawn
And a slim chance of remembrance.

That’s all for now.


Inbox (0)

Error 404 - soul not found
Please try refreshing the body
Or turning life on and off again

Loading…

No results.
Clearing all search history permanently.

Inbox (0)

OKAY AHAHAAH this poem reminds me of one I studied for my English GCSE, “A Consumer’s Report” by Peter Porter and it’s a satirical poem giving commentary on capitalism. YAY for fun poems.

Anyways, my first thought in this is that I absolutely love the way you laid it out with “death” as a condition of life (the employer) and it’s just so effective. (Or maybe this is just because I studied that one poem hehe, which you should read if you haven’t already been forced to) and I don’t really think I have any other comments on this poem - it’s perfect as it is! I think this is your strongest poem out of the four in this collection and I think it’s a good one to end on.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to Afternoon News with Miranda Greaves and Casey Rassmussen.” Miranda greeted the camera with the most serious look she could.

“Good afternoon, Sunshine Bay!” Casey greeted the camera with a smile. “We’ll be with you for the next half hour, covering all the top stories from this morning. Featured on our programme today, actress Lizze Lee has announced the creation of a fundraising event for those affected by the recent floods.”

“CASEY! Why are you smiling? You’re not supposed to be smiling!” Miranda whispered in a hushed tone. “This is serious news!”

“Ooops- sorry, Miranda.” Casey apologised, clearly not sorry at all.

“We’ll be having an interview with Lizzie Lee and various people affected by the floods on this programme. Also featured on our programme is trailblazing twelve-year-old Dylan Zheng, who has just won the Sunshine Bay National Robotics competition, the youngest ever winner.” Miranda continued the readout like nothing ever happened.

“And finally,” Casey jumped in, “we’ll be talking to Sunshine Bay University Maths Department to see how they’ve been helping young children get into mathematics. Stay tuned for an interesting programme ahead, now it’s-”

“-time for the headlines, with Kiara Sanchez.” Miranda finished.

“Hey!” Casey elbowed Miranda. “You stole my line.”

“You stole mine first,” Miranda replied, all too seriously.

The screen cut to Kiara Sanchez laughing in the newsroom.

“Okay, sorry- let me just compose myself.” Kiara said, taking a moment to compose herself in front of the camera. “Thank you very much, Casey and Miranda. The headlines at two. Actress Lizzie Lee has announced the creation of a fundraising event to help those affected by the recent flooding. Working with the charity Resilience Sunshine Bay, Lizzie hopes to help those most affected.”

The screen cut to a video of the actress, Lizzie Lee, at an earlier interview. “I truly hope this event will raise the necessary funds to help all those affected by these devastating floods.”

The screen cut back to Kiara. “The train strikes have been continuing across Sunshine Bay, with the union stating that they will continue striking until they have a deal. Among their chief demands were better pay and conditions. And finally, twelve-year-old Dylan Zheng has just won the Sunshine Bay National Robotics competition, taking first place. The twelve-year-old said he was glad to have won, and that he couldn’t believe it. That’s your headlines with me, Kiara Sanchez, back to you in the studio, Casey and Miranda.”

The screen once again cut back to the main studio, showing a bickering Casey and Miranda.

“Hey! Kiara likes my intros. You’re the one that has to be too serious about it.” Casey grinned.

“This is a NEWS SHOW, Casey,” Miranda replied, clearly annoyed. “You’re supposed to be serious.”

“Yeah, okay.” Casey said. “But-”

“You’re on air!” Another voice could be heard offscreen, which seemed to be the producer.

“Oops- sorry,” Casey said. “Alright, onto our first story.”

Miranda sighed. “Why do I even do this anymore?” She wondered aloud.