Start a story with someone who lost everything but finds solace in photography.

 https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/

*Click*

The rickety, old, foreclosed house rings eerie as the wind blows and the walls creak. You can hear it from the outside. "Damn", Neal says to himself. "They lost it all, just like me". He raises his camera, steps a few large strides to the right, and takes another shot. 

*Click*

"Hey....Hey! What are you doing over there? You can't take pictures here!" A shrill voice calls from the distance. It's getting louder. "There are children here! We protect identities here." 

What the fuck. "I don't take pictures of random people, ma'am", Neal replied calmly. How uncanny, for a man to fall victim to identity theft and have some middle-aged woman off the street accuse him of attempting to do the same. It must be more commonplace than he thought, to have someone steal your life from him. Resentment edged into his brain as he remembered the drained bank accounts, the missed rent payments, eviction notices, and enraged phone calls with creditors. Neal Cochran. There was another Neal. After resentment, the woman's worry made him feel not so alone in this world. 

"I'm only taking pictures for realtor. I'm a videographer", he lied. He had no job. This was just a hobby and he liked buildings. 

 

Cacophony

 Hi, 

Today, I would like to write a symphony, but I am writing to you instead. I like to believe that you know why I am going through all this trouble just to say happy birthday. Something is off on my end. 

Anyway...

Happy Birthday! 

I had a wonderful time meeting you and I wish I could see you again soon. I will try to write you a letter when I am able to make it out that far again. For now, I just have these blog posts. I'll be honest: I haven't written a blog in a while, so I don't know how to make this sound beautiful and magical. I am also depressed. And manic. And psychotic. Sometimes it happens all at once. Other times very far apart. It happens because I have experienced traumas that I don't often have the bandwidth to face or explain.

Okay, for your birthday, I'll try to write something beautiful...

The world has billions of people on it, and I feel lucky that I met you. You are kind and easy-going, and I want to let you know that I wish the best for you and your endeavors. You are special to me because you helped me feel comfortable enough to step back and notice patterns in my life that make me feel uneasy. I've had to re-evaluate, and I admire anyone who is open enough about that kind of process to try and help another. I think it shows bravery, creativity, and compassion in a person. I don't know your life, but I hope you feel the luck, too, even if you have worked hard to be where you are. Maybe the better luck is to hope for gratitude.

You remind me of a tree. When I think tree, I think: tree house, hammocks, tight ropes, seeing the individual leaves when I first got a pair of glasses, the comfort I felt from trees after my friend saved me from drowning in the deep end of a pool. All I could see were the conifers...When I see a tree I don't want to chop it down to see the rings. I don't want to carve our initials. I just want a hug. I just want to protect it. Thank you for coming out to indulge me the best way you knew how. Sometimes, the best way I know how to help my friends is by being alone so I can protect them from me when life gets under my skin. I was so lonely when I met you. That's why I was joining bracket in the first place. What luck, everyone was so nice. 

To me, none of this writing sounds beautiful. If you can, let me know what you think. I'm not going to write everything. You can read the room, right? Or just listen....our memories were music to my ears. But that's all they are now. Memories. "like the corners of my mind, misty water-colored memories..." ♭♯🎵

Take care. 

Waterfall Girl

p.s. some random photos

mocktail and...hibiscus flower?

My favorite outfit, bad pose

depression series

Hi,

The things that have been helping me with depression lately are:

• seafood
• pizza

Definitely fact check me on this but I hear that there are food that can actually help naturally with depression. I actually have bipolar disorder, so it may not be the same. A placebo effect is still an effect though, am I right? 

I am grateful for friends who never give up on me. 

Best,
Faith

Coping

Hey there,

It's almost Christmas. I hope you are having a lovely holiday.

My family is christian so I usually spend the holidays with them, but on my own I don't really celebrate Christmas. I'm an atheist. It's an identity I grapple with, but it's still true nonetheless.

I live in circumstances I don't like: I have a mental illness, suffer from chronic pain, and am a college dropout. I plan on returning to school, but my failure so far does make me wonder if I am struggling, if I am not strong enough to go through what I went through and stay in school because I don't follow a religion or believe in any god. I don't believe that Jesus died on the cross for our sins. And even if a man named Jesus died on a cross and said it was for our sins, as history documents, I still don't believe that there was any power behind it.

Sometimes I think, there are people who live terrible terrible lives we still believe and there are people who don't. People who live wonderful lives who believe and people who don't. The quality of my life doesn't cause me to reject god or Jesus. It's just that I don't believe. And I've tried believing. I just don't believe the way other christians and believers do.

About myself

• The year is coming to an end
• Writing has always been an outlet for me
• Life is changing all the time, and I'm not sure these days how or when I'll change next. 

Hi there! 

Let this blog be a series of letters to you. You personally. 

I love writing letters and somehow I think there is a population out there that enjoys receiving them. As this project evolves, I only hope that you with stick along for the journey. My writing began in an unusual way: copying song lyrics. I would sit in front of the radio all day and write down the words to my favorite songs. I'd listen to the morning cycles, the afternoon cycles, the Hot 5 at 5, top 40 cycle, and round out the night with the remix sessions. I kept lists of each song I liked and eventually tried to write my own songs. So many were bad. 

In the 4th grade, I joined a poetry club. I remember feeling happy there. I don't remember that teacher but I'm thankful for her. Lately, gratitude has been a struggle for me. When I would get like this before, I would just default to a journal or, in worse cases, pour my heart to strangers on forums or email. Talk my friends' ears off. I would draw, too, and soon the things I wrote, spoke, created, and listened to all seemed like one entity. All part of a bigger picture that was my essence: me. This sense of oneness I began to experience, in retrospect, felt like a small and secret paradise for myself. When my boyfriend broke up with me in high school, I lost that paradise. My thoughts were so negative, riddled with pain and that one entity I initially described--it felt like a void. I often wonder why my happy place went away with him. Maybe it is because I had let him inside of it and, once he left, I could not get rid of the bad memories. I abandoned that mental space and was never able to restore it.

Now there is a new paradise I have created. It began with the visual of a waterfall. The waterfall represents all of my urges, and impulses, all my reactions, past pain that still haunts me...my mistakes and guilt. A racing mind can be harmful in a way that's similar to how rushing water can be deadly to those in its wake. But, beside the water, next to the waterfall, even in the cove behind the waterfall...it's beautiful. Beautiful among the river and trees, the moon and stars. Beautiful with the right perspective. And maybe the negativity in my life can be that way. 

Gradually, my way of writing and feeling is starting to seem compatible again. The negative thoughts that fill me sometimes now have a place to go in the larger picture and I have room again to write about other things, like my actual life, how it's going, and what I reflect on. I'm here to write to you about my experiences and feelings. I find letter-writing to be a healing exercise. I hope my stories help you. Please write back. What are you up to? :) 

Goodnight,

Waterfall Girl