Writeaway - Blog Posts

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☼ my name is avery and my blog runs two themes at once! witch themes/writing themes.

☼ if you haven't made the connection already, i'm an aspiring author and an inspiring witch!

☼ i just recently got back into writing after a two year hiatus, unfortunately stemming from a spiral in depression. i've realized that writing makes me feel better :)

☼ even better news, i've started my very first novel! i plan on attempting to get it published in early 2022, but that's a long-term goal.

☼ i love writing in my grimoire the most! something about being able to create not only memories, but test out my artist skills as well makes me feel alive!

☼ i hope to become a positive member in this community and i love making new friends! feel free to message me, especially if you want an opinion on your writing! i love reading!

☼ my favorite author right now is andrea cremer! she actually inspired this novel!

C R O S S R O A D

We stood at the crossroads,

Thinking for too long,

Watching the way back.

Longing for the solitude.

But there's chaos ahead,

With determination in its eyes,

Hungry for another soul

To be lost in its world.

I know I'm scared,

But who isn't.

As I set foot into this strange world.

Your presence made sense.

/bravery

I always think I should write more. Writing feels good, sounds nice and in the end it is one of the best types of therapies there is. However, like everything in this world, it requires bravery. You need to be brave to write because you need to be brave to expose yourself. To show what you think, what you feel, what your brain can create, it all requires a lot of self confidence. The same with sharing any type of art you create. You need to be able to trust yourself and say ‘’hey, I am good at this and this is good enough for me. I am proud”. To me, that’s how everything starts. 

Hard to consider a certain level of personal growth and improvement when you can't get over something simple as an affair. We do everything so fast, we get to know each other, we send everyday text messages, we fall in love, kiss, have fights, get apart, get back together, get apart again and one day end up not talking to each other ever again. However we miss each other, whisper a name, a word, a feeling, but we are too proud to send a message, to proud to say how much we miss each other and then we let it die but it is never actually dead, somewhere inside you can still feel it and some times you wonder about how could it be if it ever worked out.

You will never know because you don't want to try to go after the person, you don't want to risk yourself, to hear a 'no', to get a cold message, you don't want to hurt yourself and your memories, you rather let it be the way it is.

"It is better this way."

But it is not. It is just safer. You don't want to be rejected by that person you care so much about. That person you have so many warm dreams about and get lost on thoughts imagining a perfect life together. You don't wanna risk all of that.

You just let it die.

Is it your poetic gaze, those damn poetic eyes, or just my poetic heart, the very reason why every part of you each way you exist, is the most beautfiul possession that i can ever call mine....

-mauli ♡

Babe, there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you...

After all.. it's My Way.. !

I think efforts are way more attractive and reassuring in a relationship than promises. You never know if you're gonna be able to keep the promises in future or not, but the efforts you make in the present are a lot more worthwhile.

Lovers who write poems or verses for their soulmates are so precious and need be protected at all costs.

Is it really too much to ask to turn me into a garden fairy, so I could spend the rest of my life among flowers and live in a dainty ethereal mushroom!

What has made me speak less with each passing day? I watch the dragonfly escape the lizard by inches and I decide to stay. I want my words and my life to escape death. So every time I try exaggerating my empathy , the insouciance, and the ability to extract only the bad side of my words and my life makes me edge closer to silence. I do not want to throttle my words to death.

Touching your hands make me feel at home and lost at the same time. I will never know which one I like more,which one takes me far away from myself and closer to you.

I made a room for you in my mind.

I was foolish, I thought you were kind.

I never noticed the knife when you came from behind.

Or the chains on my arms that bind,

Or the cloth over my eyes that blinds.

I remember when I lovingly made a room for you in my mind.

I was wrong, you weren't kind

~Me

And when the stars giggled, I found myself bursting into joy again. Such is beauty, such is pain. I always find my way back again.

~Me

"A House with No Mirrors"

I live in a house. A house with no mirrors.

What am I hiding from, you may wonder. What is it that I don't want to see?

Is it the way my mother's smile quivers when she's been hurt? Or the violent anger my father's fist holds?

Is it them I'm avoiding? Or… is it me?

Do I hate the curve of my nose, the same nose I share with my father? Or is it the hint of my mother's cheekbones, that I can't stand?

Do I despise the oppressor or pity the victim? Do I…. fear them? Fear becoming them? Or do I fear myself?

Which category do I belong to? Which one am i? A perfect blend of the oppressor and the oppressed. Where do I fit in?

In the broken cracks, where the world forgot, or perhaps, chose to forget, about me because it's so much easier to ignore than accept that there's a gaping flaw in the system. Where at some point, I too forgot the feeling of a warm embrace and loving eyes. And with the broken shards of time, I forgot my own name. Just like I hope to forget my own face.

I look in the mirror. Who am I looking at this time? A monster? Or his slave? Whose face do I see more?

Whichever one it is, I know for a fact that it's not my face that I see but theirs.

Always theirs.

I was cursed from birth. I was cursed to carry the DNA of two contradicting forces. They've blended inside me, melded as one just to create a disgusting mess of weaknesses, insecurities and existential issues. I wouldn't know where I began and they ended, what part of me even belongs to myself.

I had the misfortune to live among thieves. They stole my childhood, my sanity and now my face.

Heads turn away refusing to accept that mistakes were made. I guess I inherited that as well.

I hide away.

In moments of despairing sadness, I see my mother's lifeless smile instead of mine and in moments of rage… well. I don't like to look at that.

I wish I could see my mother's curiously intelligent mind. Or my father's sharp, observing gaze. But…

I live in a house with no mirrors because I'm afraid of what I might see this time.

I fade away.

~Me

And all I loved, I loved alone.

~ Alone by Edgar Allan Poe

I wish to learn the history in your bones.

I always used to wonder that for how long will we point at ruins and tell ourselves that this is mercy. I thought mercy was supposed to be peaceful. Maybe, I didn't understand mercy at all. I asked myself: What is mercy?

And I realized, there are two types of mercies. The human mercy and the divine mercy. Mercy, my dears, is like fire.

Human mercy is warmth and compassion. It is the fire that warms you, that pushes the chill away during the coldest winter. It is the hand that picks you up after you have fallen and brushes the dust from your knees and tends to your wounds. Human mercy is about healing.

Now, divine mercy, also known as God's/the universe's (etc) mercy, is more complicated. Divine mercy comes in the form of destruction. It is the forest fire that rages and pillages all that is in the way, and you, more often than not, believe it is the end. But, the forest fire is necessary for the forest, despite the initial destruction. That we must admit. That fire cleanses. It nourishes the soil, it is extremely beneficial for the regrowth of stronger, newer trees and it opens a pathway for the smaller, hidden plants that were overshadowed, to get sunlight as well. It allows for growth, for new beginnings. Divine mercy is about rebirth.

~Me

If you think about it, all our thoughts and morals and feelings are plagiarized as well. We are a product of what we hear, see, speak and learn. We pick and choose what we like best while the rest goes to deep recesses of our mind.

Someone, a long time ago, wrote the same words as me, albeit in a different format. That doesn't change the fact that we both reached the same conclusions. But the issue is that my thoughts were never uniquely mine. And in all honesty, I'm learning to deal with that.

~Me

Short Stories #4

. 4 The Crossroads of Destiny

The large roof and deep eaves curved into sharp, intimidating lines while the bamboo walls reflected a blue hue, a symptom of the night, as the house on the hill stood aglow before me. Motionless, crisp air burned my lungs with each inhale and smelt like the dew filled grass. The bonsai tree is unnaturally still, as if realizing the gravity of tonight. Water from the fountain gushed but it, too, seemed muted, while the full moon serenaded this tranquil visage, molding an illusion of serenity. The deafening silence is unnerving, but I'm not here to be cowed. The weight of my cold katana on my back grounds me. I'm on a mission.

After picking the lock, I entered by sliding the main door open, a pleasant woody scent filled my nose. My entrance seemed to have alerted an elderly man. He stared at me, his ridiculous, white beard curling at the end, near the collar of his indigo yukuta, trying to make out my masked face in the semi darkness. How unfortunate. For him. A quick slash from my katana and he is gone before he could make a sound. Before I could catch him, he fell with a loud thud, his throat spilling disgustingly, the copper scent of blood wafts in the air mixing with the incense. This seemed to have woken up other occupants on the ground floor. Doors slid open and men stepped out. I watch as horror fills their eyes, then understanding, then rage. One man grabs his tachi and lunges at me. Ah, wrong move. I dodge, hold my foot out and he trips and with a swift swing from me, his body jerks and he's out like a candle. I pick up his tachi with my other hand as more men trickle in to attack me. Dodge, parry, dodge again, leap, I use the wall as a support to leap again, using my knee I plow another in his groin, and swing, he goes down thrashing wildly. I swivel and clash my swords with yet another man, who jerks back from my abrupt motions. Using his momentary distraction, I surge forth, and elbow him in the face, then under the jaw, and finally a shattering blow to ribs. Blood splutters from his mouth and he wails, and I drive my trusted katana through his heart. An agonized shriek pierced through my haze but only barely. A raging duel has broken out. Now I was fighting four men at once, all of them shouting expletives at me. The children cowered while two women threw household items at me. The men are able-bodied, athletic and burly but my smaller, quicker frame gave me an advantage of speed and efficiency. I dodge the plate thrown at me and it hits one man behind me, in the face. I swivel and cut his head cleanly off his shoulders with the tachi. A man screamed in rage and ran towards me. I moved out his way and he slams against the wall, while another man lunges toward me holding his tanto straight. I knew then it would pierce my heart. I rolled under him and kicked him from the back and his tanto went through the back of the man who was still against the wall. Horror welled in his eyes and I deftly swung my katana at his jugular. As the saying goes, 'Hit two birds with one stone'. When the aggressive onslaught of attacks ended up hurting their own people or themselves, did the men realize what a formidable fighter I am. They are good, I admit, and they meet my expectations for a warrior family, but I, I'm a master and have been for decades. I take them all down one by one, effortlessly, my motions mechanical. Oh, these men were really good. I'm slightly out of breath, blood dribbles down my forehead and there's an ache in my muscles. Not an issue. I move towards the remaining women and the children. The fear in their eyes and their wrenching sobs almost make me pause. Almost. Alas, it must be done. I raise both swords and swing. Blood splatters on the bamboo walls, on the tatami mat flooring and on the Shōji attached to the wooden railing. The smell is unbearable down here, sweat, blood, other bodily fluids and incense combined together create an unholy stench which should be called an assault in and of itself. Wrinkling my nose, I drop the tachi and move forward.

I scour the house for any survivors. None remain. Good. I make my way upstairs and eliminate all those hiding. Barely feeling my heart beating, I slide the door to the last room. The mother screams and shields the child with her body. One cut and she too spills crimson at my feet. And oh. How I waited and plotted and planned for this moment. The bane of my existence, stares at me with large eyes, darker than the sky. So this is the infamous "child of the prophecy". This weakling. The child stares, I sneer back. To think this silly creature could do me harm, is frankly laughable. I raise my katana to swing, I pause and my arm drops. I lift my arm again and the sudden realization of what I'm about to do, what I just did, crashed down on me. I am hesitating. Why? I already killed the family without remorse, why is this so difficult?! The child stares and stares and I want to end him so badly, yet….

A sudden wisp of black and white smoke gathers around my feet. The child falls unconscious in his crib instantly. Yelping, I take a few steps back and hold my katana in a defensive position. Two unearthly beings, the white one a few steps ahead to my right and the black one a few steps ahead to my left. Terror strikes my heart like lightning. Was this what the prophecy meant? Is this my end? As the smoke cleared, I gasped, my sword falling with a clatter. Me?! These creatures wore my face, but no…. I can see a difference. The one on my left, was pale as the moon outside, and held a perpetual, cocky smirk, while the eyes had a glint sharper than my katana. Clothed in a kimono as pale as its skin, this creature seemed to glow, but it had a curious black spot on its forehead, in between the two milky eyes. It's companion, however, was the opposite. Glistening, pure black skin, and an ebony kimono, made the white spot on its forehead more pronounced. It's expression was stern, and shrewd but its shadowy eyes were watchful and old. It seemed to have sucked all the shadows around it. In essence they had my features but in different shades. As formidable as their presence felt, they created a rather bewitching sight. The being in white looks charming and enticing, a delicate elegance to its movements, while the being in black looks so divine and mesmerizing, its stature refined and striking.

"Hello Human", the white one grinned, it's voice-my voice but airy and seductive,"I am your Yang and this is my companion", Yang gestured to the other,"Yin". Yin, however did not speak, just kept me under its watchful gaze.

"Are you my punishment?" I murmured.

"No.",Yin finally spoke, it's voice clear and firm, "We are your conscious, and I am here to convince you to make the right choice."

"Oh please my darling Yin, and human," Yang adds as an afterthought, "there is only a choice and what you do with it. Right and wrong are subjective."

Yin scoffs and rolls its eyes. Yang tiptoes over to me, each slight step made it look like it was floating rather than touching the ground. It picks up my sword, slings its arm over my shoulder and pushes my katana in my blood coated hands.

"Go ahead, do it. Kill the child, you know he's a liability to the empire you spent ages building." Yang whispered in my ear.

"If you have an ounce of humanity left in you will put down that sword!"roared Yin. "You have slaughtered his family! Now he will definitely come for you because YOU put that prophecy in motion!"

"Now, now Yin, let's not lose our tempers," Yang soothes,"the prophecy was put in motion against our human's judgement. No point crying over spilt milk is there? What we need now is for our human to kill-"

" -There will be no killing." Yin interrupts, snarling.

"We'll see." Yang bites back and turns to me, one arm still over my shoulder, the other forcing my katana in my hand.

"I-well-I can't let this child live!" I sputter out. "I've spent over a century building it from the ashes that my father", I spit, "caused. I cannot let my work go to waste!"

"That's more like it!" Yang exclaims, a sharp grin dancing across its mouth.

"Not let your work go to waste!?" Yin bellows. "Surely you do realize, if you proceed you will become the same person your father was! Have you forgotten what he has done!?"

I flinch back from Yin's words and my old scar, racing down from my jugular till my heart, tingles.

"You set that prophecy in motion, now you deal with the consequences that come with it." Yin clenches its teeth and forces out, self righteous anger held with scarce restraint.

"Well, so what? Morality is dubious at best." trills Yang, while deftly skirting around the cold body of the mother." Yes the prophecy is in motion and what of it? Just end the boy. There will be no issue of him, ah, 'hunting you down for sweet revenge'. Murder makes everything easier." A sly grin appears on its face. "As you proved downstairs."

"Enough of this. The least you can do is compensate the boy for the loss you caused. If you murder that child, will you able to live with yourself?" Yin inquires, soulful eyes knowing.

Yang comes to an abrupt halt, its face twisted, as it looks towards Yin, who hadn't moved an inch from its position.

"Must you always complicate situations?" it sneers, then turns towards me, suddenly cold and demanding, "Human, kill that child."

"No! Spare the child!"

"I said kill the child!"

"And I said spare the child!"

"Kill the child!"

"Spare the child!"

"Kill the child!"

"Spare the child!"

"ENOUGH!" I erupt, and fall to my knees. Tears of frustration and uncertainty well in my eyes. Both beings, taken aback, turn to look at me. I hold my head in my hands, and soon enough, sobs wreak my body, my shoulders shaking.

Yin's lip curls as it stares down at me.

"So this is what the 'Great Leader' does whenever faced with a difficult situation." it sneers. "Cry."

"I do not wish to be like my father", I sob, my voice hoarse, "I wished for peace and security for me and my people, and then this-this prophecy came along and ruined it for me. This child-you don't understand-this child is destined to be my fall! All that I worked so hard on, I can not let it turn to dust. I just-" my voice breaks off, gut wrenching sobs ascend to heaves.

The beings watch me carefully, quietly, none moving till I calmed down.

"Human." Yin spoke, its voice firm and somber, thrummed in me like residual vibrations from a gigantic church bell. I lift my head. Yin and Yang stared back at me without blinking. An unnerving silence hung in the air.

"You are at the crossroads of destiny." Yang crooned, at last. My blood smeared katana laid in front of me, a trickle of moonlight gleaming on the visible metallic parts. Yin and Yang, then speak to me, in a voice of one,

"What will you choose?"

________________End_______________

In life we often come across crossroads, hopefully none as severe as this, in which we have to choose between desire and morality.

Yin is harsh and unyielding but the white spot on its forehead shows the good in difficulty, the emotional and mental strength it takes to do what is right. It shows the beauty of struggle and the iron fist you must wield to abide by morality.

Yang, on the other hand, is seductive, fluid and ever changing. It shifts from place to place, with a ruthless callousness and it is, often, rather flimsy. It shows the temptation of selfishness, of the desire to take and never give.

The most difficult battles, in truth, are varying shades of gray, rather than just black and white.

The ending is left open for the readers to interpret as they wish and to ask themselves the big question,

"What will YOU choose?"

All love is, inherently, selfish. Ponder.

~Me

"When the world shuts down and the quiet shushes and the darkness cloaks, I do the opposite. My small rebellions."

~Me

My tranquil, little moon,

my sweet midnight,

Your saccharine nectar drips from the star dew sky,

And drapes me in a blanket of warmth and bittersweet acceptance.

Your words are silent like a tender droplet of water blooming on a cloth but the formidable, commanding waves in your head bow to no man.

~Me

And the forest hugged me, the moss sheltering, the leaves and vines curling and the wild flowers showering me with perfume.

"Welcome back," the forest whispered in my ear," I've missed you."

~Me

Downfall

When did I get so grey. Or maybe I have always been this dull shade of nothingness. I'd like to think that I was once an exuberant yellow just to have something to compare with. To know that I've moved and changed and grown, to know that I had once tasted the sun,that I held it in my gentle hands and for once I didn't burn. But that's a lie isn't it? A comforting one but a lie nonetheless. Maybe I've always been grey.

~Me

Downfall

Happy new year to the handful of people who follow me. I hope this year we'll be less depressed.

Tired, ancient soul,

What secrets do those eyes hide

That you shelter so close to your chest

A chest that is bursting at the seams

With raw anguish,

But beautiful soul

Pain isn't meant to last

And neither is happiness

These fleeting emotions

Hold not tight to them

Because the only immortal here

Is You

~Me