Make up a story. Narrative is radical, creating us at the very moment it is being created. - - Toni Morrison
The name is Steph. I write. You read. You contribute, if you want. We inspire.
Read the purpose if that's not enough and click submit if you need more info about what I'll accept
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
i never realized how easy it is for me to lose faith in others
It is sad how so many forget
that our country was not founded on the premise of
“I’m free to do this, and this and this, and god damnit all to hell if I cannot
If I cannot, I will not do anything to change it
I will complain”
No.
This all began with the freedom from something, and someone. From oppression
NOT freedom to do anything
and I think it’d be better if we all remembered that from time to time.
hang in there.. next semester I’m taking a poetry class, so naturally I’ll have a bunch of things to post here
i’ve decided to make a personal blog, as this will be my writing blog
follow akissmaybegrand.tumblr.com for pictures, randomness, me. etc
stay here for writing :)
and i promise after finals, I’ll get some new stuff up!
help!
I know that Albert Camus said this, BUT WHERE? I need the source for my paper! Help?“But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads?”
I walked through the quad, the cool fall air tingling the tips of my ears and nose. I was glad for the much needed break from paper writing and essay reading that I had been doing for the last few hours. All of my work had really been getting to me lately. A lot had been getting to me lately.
I walked slowly, with purpose. I took deep breaths of the air, hoping for it to bring some semblance of peace with it. I hoped it would take hold, grasp my spine, and make its home in my very core. I’d return from dinner ready to take on the world, or at least Virginia Woolf. Far off in the distance, I could see lights from cars. I continued to walk. Step by step I thought about all of the things bothering me and tried to leave them behind.
I took another deep breath and in that instant, the headlights out in the distance turned into christmas lights. I could hear a murmur of happy voices, family members who hadn’t seen each other for weeks, eager to dig into the Christmas feast in front of them. I realized that I was in front of my Grandmother’s house, a location that had a special place in my mind. Her home was one of celebration and peace at all times of the year. I couldn’t remember a time when I had left her house with any form of a bad mood.
Another deep breath and I was opening the door. The cool, wet December air clashed with the warm smell of pasta and corn and pies and cookies of all different kinds.
Another deep breath and the sound of laughing students, and I was back in the quad. The smell that transported me hours away had vanished. I was no longer at Christmas dinner. I was still on campus, stressed. Regardless, some little peace of me felt calm and collected and relaxed in a way that surprised me.
Funny how I took a trip on a little tiny particle and though I didn’t really go anywhere, the power of that moment changed me.
—Stephanie @ Narrativeisradical.tumblr.com
(Source: narrativeisradical)
Good Reasons
I tell stories for very good reasons, she said, but I’m not going to tell you what they are or you’d start reading too much into them
- - Brian Andreas
(Source: storypeople.com)
