/lit/ - Literature

ITT we post bits of our original creative writing and critique others. Lets try and avoid comments like "this makes me want to an hero" and instead offer real, sound advice.
I'm pretty new at writing, but if you must obliterate my self-esteem than so be it. I'll start

I stiffly wished Tommy a good night as I stepped out into the raw January evening and immediately regretted not packing some extra layers. No wonder its so dead this time of year; who would want to leave their house in this damn cold. I curse Mother Nature as my teeth begin to chatter, making a silent promise to myself to one day move somewhere exempt from her frigid influence. Helping myself to a seat on the nearby bench I glance at the contents of my slightly crushed cigarette pack - only two left - and make a mental note to stop at the gas station up the street to re-supply. Absently, I select the upside-down cigarette and attempt the grueling process of striking a match, a boxing bout between myself and the wind that lasted a whole ten rounds before I finally caught a flame; an honorable performance from Wind in the red corner, who took down half of my matches before throwing in the towel.

My mind began to wander through regular puffs of smoke, sedated by the rhythmic hum of cars from the nearby highway. Even though the streets were practically empty the night seemed very much alive. A handful of birds exchanged chirps in a nearby oak, comforting one another through this harsh season full of death and early darkness. Airplanes roared high above in conjunction with their elated passengers, who embark on much-anticipated escapes from cold reality in favor of the blissful tropics that are the Virgin Islands and Aruba. Slowly, the surrounding streetlights began to oscillate in and out of focus, manifesting again as long brown trunks that tapered off into thin green hairs, littered with hairy brown beads that hung from their heads. The wind took on a scent of salt and sand as I wiggled my toes through millions of tiny grains, some sticking to the wet spots on my ankles. A beautiful, exotic woman in a grass skirt and coconut-shell top approaches me and hands me a Pina Colada, complete with mini-umbrella and chunks of pineapple and cherry skewered onto a tiny blue pirate’s sword. She stands behind me and begins to rub my shoulders with expertise, hitting all the kinks and rendering me motionless. Bending towards my face she whispers sweet nothings into my ear as another woman, equally beautiful, approaches from ahead. She is saying something but I can’t quite make out what it is. As she inches closer her voice grows louder and louder.

>>3668030
>crying to architecture and dance
>no painting
top plen

I scribble daily thoughts on a napkin at dinner, then wipe my mouth with it so I have incentive to throw it away.

It's nice getting some thoughts out in writing, but it's never nice to think they are worth keeping.


mfw people tell me they keep a journal

>>3310569
>yfw you've received a standard american high school education

good for you anon...?