This Slope is Treacherous

allthe-songs-makesense:

I’ve been writing on my 365 day writing project, A Year’s Worth of Words for 97 days now. Which is huge. I’ve never stuck with a New Year’s resolution this long before. But I only have 54 followers there. :( The whole point of writing words if to share them with people, but I feel like no one is reading them at all.

Honestly, I’m doing this for me anyway—it feels really good to accomplish something like this. But I’d really like to have people reading my words, sharing them with their friends, feeling something from what I write.

So here is my goal: 100 followers by my 100th post. That’s in one day, April 9th. And I’m 46 followers away. Do you think you could help me out? Reblog this post, check out my page at allysonraewrites.tumblr.com, reblog some of my words—anything that might speak to you. And feel free to drop messages in my ask. Writing prompts are also welcomed.

You guys are wonderful, and I hope that my words might bring you something you haven’t felt before.

lovelovelove,

Allyson

(allysonraewrites.tumblr.com)

allthe-songs-makesense:

I’ve been writing on my 365 day writing project, A Year’s Worth of Words for 97 days now. Which is huge. I’ve never stuck with a New Year’s resolution this long before. But I only have 41 followers there. :( The whole point of writing words if to share them with people, but I feel like no one is reading them at all.

Honestly, I’m doing this for me anyway—it feels really good to accomplish something like this. But I’d really like to have people reading my words, sharing them with their friends, feeling something from what I write.

So here is my goal: 100 followers by my 100th post. That’s in three days, April 9th. Do you think you could help me out? Reblog this post, check out my page at allysonraewrites.tumblr.com, reblog some of my words—anything that might speak to you. And feel free to drop messages in my ask. Writing prompts are also welcomed.

You guys are wonderful, and I hope that my words might bring you something you haven’t felt before.

lovelovelove,

Allyson

(allysonraewrites.tumblr.com)

I’ve been writing on my 365 day writing project, A Year’s Worth of Words for 97 days now. Which is huge. I’ve never stuck with a New Year’s resolution this long before. But I only have 41 followers there. :( The whole point of writing words if to share them with people, but I feel like no one is reading them at all.

Honestly, I’m doing this for me anyway—it feels really good to accomplish something like this. But I’d really like to have people reading my words, sharing them with their friends, feeling something from what I write.

So here is my goal: 100 followers by my 100th post. That’s in three days, April 9th. Do you think you could help me out? Reblog this post, check out my page at allysonraewrites.tumblr.com, reblog some of my words—anything that might speak to you. And feel free to drop messages in my ask. Writing prompts are also welcomed.

You guys are wonderful, and I hope that my words might bring you something you haven’t felt before.

lovelovelove,

Allyson

(allysonraewrites.tumblr.com)

allysonraewrites:

Snowflakes dancing like lovers, floating carelessly through the sky. I watch them twirl and fly and I wonder what they’ve seen in their lifetime. How many places have they been? How many kissing couples and lonely girls have they passed on their way to my window?

A Year’s Worh of Words: Follow?

allysonraewrites:

It’s been 24 hours since my eyes have last seen sleep. I’ve kept myself awake with old episodes of Castle, watching the same cases I’ve seen a dozen times, solving them along with our dynamic duo. Anything and everything to keep my mind off of the dreams I’m trying to avoid. Only their love story reminds me so much of the sort of story I’m hoping to write for myself one day. It starts with a bitter discontent, paved with an underlying attraction—the fight to avoid the magnetic pull, the crazy ideas and loaded looks. It’s a slow burn, and two hearts slowly begin to see the light. And one day, oh one day…all those heated moments, spread over years of waiting and wondering, will culminate in one moment where the realization that their lives have become so intertwined that it will be impossible to untangle themselves from one another. No, that day has not come for Castle and Beckett yet—nor has it come for me. But I have faith that in time, their story will come full-circle. And like my faith in Castle and Beckett’s love story…I have faith in mine as well.

A Year’s Worth of Words

allysonraewrites:

An echoing laughter peels through the air, cutting through the silence in joy. It isn’t much, but it gives her hope. Hope that even in the darkest of nights, there is still the possibility that she will be able to find the light.

A Year’s Worth of Words: Follow?

allysonraewrites:

Nothing is static. In an instant, life can change. We all all simply smaller pieces of a larger puzzle, and our lives are unpredictable. Like the weather, things are constantly changing, evolving and rearranging into new and sometimes even more beautiful pictures than ever existed before. Tomorrow is not a guarantee, so make today worthwhile.

Please follow. A Year’s Worth of Words.

I don’t know what this is or where it came from, but I like it. A lot.

Wildflower

She was a wildflower, wild and free beyond the limits of everything. She laughed and danced and sang and never gave a second thought to those who looked down upon her. They saw her as careless; she saw herself as carefree.

He was grounded, somewhere between what is expected and what is mandatory. He had responsibilities, obligations and plans that were not meant to be altered. But in his eye there was a spark—a tiny glimmer of childlike glee and wonder—that he longed to indulge in.

When he saw her, he had no choice but to be drawn to her, like a moth to a flame in the dead of night. And despite his best efforts to hold back, he could not escape the magnetic pull of her person; the incandescent glow of her smile and the melodic echo of her laughter drew him ever closer to the person he longed to be. Her youthful heart and spontaneous personality embodied everything he desired to get out of his life.

And so he danced with her, responsibilities and obligations dropped at his feet—his plans left by the wayside as he followed her into the field where laughter and music and hope came alive into one spectacular moment of inexplicable joy. And she held his hands in hers as they twirled and sang and laughed into the wind, the overgrown blades of grass tangling at their feet. And they lost themselves there as they fell back into a bed of clover, blanketed in a clear blue sky with the warm summer sun as a pillow. For a moment no sound could be heard except the distant twittering of a band of swallows and the rippling of a flowing creek somewhere beyond the tree line. And then the laughter began again, flowing from somewhere between the tangled mess of arms and legs, and stolen kisses as afternoon turned to dusk. They watched as the sky began to change, exploding in pinks and oranges and reds, as if the sky were set ablaze the way their hearts had been. And when the sun kissed the western horizon, as though Mother Nature herself were bidding goodnight to Father Time, they too knew that goodbye was no longer a distant worry, but a present concern. So when their blanket had morphed into the deepest indigo night, dotted with the glimmer of distant stars, they held their breath in silent anticipation.

“We should…” she mused.

“I can’t…” he began.

She bit her lip and he clenched his fists as they stared at one another in consideration. Blinking, she nodded slowly as he dropped her hand and stood, walking away from that field where laughter and music and hope came alive—leaving silence in his wake. She turned her head toward the sky and watched as one star fell, as though the sky were shedding a single tear for that precious wildflower. But it is known what happens to the wildflower when it is hidden from the warmth and light of the sun.

The wildflower will wither away and die.