PROMPT Write How it Feels!

Discussion in 'INSPIRING MUSES' started by The Mood is Write, May 25, 2016.

  1. If you're happy and you know it write 'bout it!
    If you're snappy and you know it write 'bout it!


    Anyway, write about how you feel today.

    BUT!

    Don't use emotion words. Don't say the emotion you feel, and don't describe thoughts. Instead, describe the physical sensations.

    For example:

    Exhausted with Allergies
    My head throbs and my nose alternates between clogged and clear. I can barely breathe or swallow. My eyelids weigh heavily down but yet remain open.

    I stand and my heels are weak. I sit again, and my body leans backward, only to shoot forward as I inhale. Phlegm teases the back of my mouth, but it barely registers before my heels slam the ground and my torso flings itself forward. With that sneeze, my head throbs and my nose brings no air. Numbness fills my sinuses before another sneeze pressurizes them again.

    Halfway to another sneeze I bend to reach for my tissue box, and the pressure in my skull grows. It becomes heavy and my feet stagger to catch me as I lift my prize.
     
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  2. Nervous.

    He could fell a tickle in the mouth of his stomach. The tip of his feet's fingers felt cold and almost as if they didn't touch his shoes. Like a flash, the tickle in his stomach grew stronger, reaching the front of his lungs, making his chest feel smaller.

    He could not swallow, for the knot in his throat was like a chord pulling up and above from his esophagus. Thoughts raced through his mind; "what was this? Why couldn't he spit a word? Why were his fingers trembling? I'm going to die, I'm definitely going to die." He let the words of shame grow stronger within his psyche, not wanting to fight that he didn't know.

    At last, the cold in his feet was suppressed by a feeling of comfort and sleepiness, the pain in his chest was dragged down to the point he felt bigger, and the knot in his throat let go, allowing him to speak again. "I'm alive."
     
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  3. Everything aches and he feels much older than he is or even looks.

    It's his joints again, swollen and rebelling like a teenager testing the limits of their parents' patience. Knuckles, fingers, knees, and toes are all reddened and stiff, making moving about seem like the most monumental of feats. Whatever you do, please, please don't ask him to bend down and pick something up off the floor-- not today. It would also be advisable to keep him out of the sun, as his UV intolerance has been more severe lately. Patchy hive-like welts have cropped up along his arms, making him feel a bit like a psoriatic lizard, scaly and dry, though with considerably more itching.

    Or so he assumed. He was not and, likely, never would be a lizard with psoriasis, but it seemed a fair comparison.
     
  4. Exhausted with Delusions and Determined with Passion

    So now I see, reality comes burying my burnt remains and these puddled clouds, I understand now. But darkness falls alongside all things wrong like shattered pieces, dangling, shimmering, torn and tattered and crowned. I'll not be told "No", to. No more.

    You must believe to hear me sing, listen as I harmonize alongside burdens and watch as sound bursts from my cords and casts shadows of messy morsels and my self-assuring love all upon you, yes I'll admit, I lie and I wrangle with prospective angles that glare me down and face me with all I do wrong, they all look like me.

    So I try, and I scream, and I beg, and I sigh, just to prove I'm alive, and tonight just as bittersweet and blinding as a silver lining I'll make light of this treacherous life.
     
  5. Her heart beat along to the rhythm of the song she had been listening to on loop for the past hour, singing and swelling, threatening to burst from her rib cage. Every nerve tingled with anticipation, but for what she didn't know.

    She thought she wouldn't feel like this again until the rain came back over her house, so this is a rare feeling.

    Her eyes were heavy and her body was weary, but her mind was alive and eager to share its findings, its philosophies, every random word that she'd found meaning for. Alas, deadlines call and the morning swiftly approaches, and she must put her mind to rest with the hope that it will still have such a feeling come morning.
     
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  6. Lonely but not alone))

    My days are generally very active and revolve around caring for my 4 grandchildren who are all under nine. The older two go off to school and I spend the day with a three year old and a one year old. There is singing, dancing, laughter as well as diapers and runny noses, but all of it is fulfilling and meaningful.

    Every day I have three hours of total silence during nap time. I sit at my computer and write about things i dream of, and things I wish for as I wait to hear the sounds that will signal the end of my solitude and renew the chaos that is my life. The two come back from school and squeals of delight fill the house and I stir the dinner pot wishing for what was, and will never be again.
     
  7. Lonely but not alone))

    My days are generally very active and revolve around caring for my 4 grandchildren who are all under nine. The older two go off to school and I spend the day with a three year old and a one year old. There is singing, dancing, laughter as well as diapers and runny noses, but all of it is fulfilling and meaningful.

    Every day I have three hours of total silence during nap time. I sit at my computer and write about things i dream of, and things I wish for as I wait to hear the sounds that will signal the end of my solitude and renew the chaos that is my life. The two come back from school and squeals of delight fill the house and I stir the dinner pot wishing for what was, and will never be again.
     
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  8. So, so bored.

    I sit in the chair, and I stare at the page. I stare at the page, and I look at the phone. I look at the phone, and I glance at the dishes. The dishes aren't done, but I don't want to do them. I glance back at the page, and it looks at me accusingly. Well? it asks. Nothing, I answer. I get up and walk around a little bit, looking about me. The kitchen is dirty, the living room needs vacuumed, and the counter is a mess, but I still sit in my chair. There's no gas money to go to the flea market, and it's too cold besides, but it would be nice to look at some baubles, just to stretch my legs.

    I could eat, but is there eating that needs done? I could sleep, but I sacrifice my future night's rest. Outside the snow falls softly in a blanket a bit at a time, and the night is dark. The whole valley is asleep, and only a pair of headlights interrupt it the darkness now and again. I pace around the house again, and the checklist grows as I see the housework pile up around me. I sit in the chair again, and the page continues to accuse.

    Well? it asks.[/b]