Arbitrary Stories

Welcome to a collection of my weirdest thoughts, my finest works of confusion. Here, you'll meet many of my friends, read many of my ideas, both awesome and silly, and probably laugh at my utter lack of normalness. A few things you ought to know before you read: 1: I'm insane. Who cares? 2: A lot/all of this stuff is pointless and was made out of boredom. 3: You cannot touch your right elbow with your right hand, nor your left elbow with your left hand. Go on, try it. You'll end up looking like a T-rex. 4: When in doubt, you are doubting. So go on. Read this book. It'll be fun, and probably leave you utterly confused. But leave a like anyway. I'll need those later, in stage 3 of world domination... or was it stage 7 of paying my medical bills?

Living in New York is not always the easiest place to live especially when you originally come from a smaller area like Port St.Lucie Florida and is new to all the loud noises but after all it is the city that never sleeps. My name is Y/n Y/L/N and I am a super hero and I am not no ordinary super hero like the so called Invincible Iron-Man or Captin America I am a very special hero with lots of power and as you may all know "with great power comes great responsibility" I am the most powerful living specimen alive and ever created and yes every story has a happy ending but there is also a dark side and in this story I will be telling you not only how I learned how to embrace, deal and perfect my abilities or how I met the love of my life ( "aka : spider-man/ peter parker" ) but on how I became the most legendary hero EVER !!! I am Arbitrary

In here are the not-so-good poems, still the better ones from when I started writing them about everything and nothing... And... My penname is 'the hopeful'... Critiques and appreciations are very much welcome and anticipated.

~A perspective on illusion~

I never write something when I'm happy. It's nothing more than a pile of suffering, don't read it if you're depressed. I don't write very well, consider before reading. Warning: Some of the characters' thoughts are very twisted, don't let it influence you.

Herbert Hatter lives in a perfect society, regimented by a Code that guides citizens to perfect themselves. One day, he decides to get a tiny plant for his desk. When the Echeveria is taken away because it is a 'forbidden item', Herbert starts doubting the Code he has always lived by.

As it says on the title, get ready for arbitrary...

A place for my small writings. Each named after the song that inspired them.

❝this love comes sweetly this gentle awakening like warmth on your skin and a breath on you neck let it say so softly.... you are more than enough❞ - butterfly rising

Dear Director and others, If you are reading this letter then that means that the Ark-ship class called The Ascension has rocketed into space with several of our tech. You will all soon arrive at your new home and you have us to thank that for. Many people on board that ship have helped all of us along the way to reach our final goal of saving the human race from extinction. If you are reading out loud then please mention these people: Safrik, he was one of the few normal humans who could master our technology. You and the rest of the people onboard The Ascension should thank him fixing this ship with livable spacing and air to breathe. Without him, sadly I think that none of us would’ve survived the hell we’ve been through. Next one I want you to thank is Marcy: Marcy was a very hectic yet brilliant scientist. She was the one who through several failed experiments was able to make bionic implants for our bodies so that we could combat the harsh weathers of Mecrolopis.012 and so that we could harness many of our untouched draconian powers. There are many others to thank but I need to cut this letter short. Inside the box which you should’ve found in your private cabins lies a micro SD chip that you must present to the galactic rulers at the coordinates X:9123.231 Y:-980.23 and Z:580. This meeting was scheduled by us before the final battle. That chip contains all that had happened to us up to the point of where you are now. This chip contains our countless feats of adventure…and of how we died. With great respect. Tucker/Roxas, Ace, Moxxi, Daryl, Jasmine and Haytem The Last great Star Children

Extraneous works that I'm writing, not relating to Ditto, my main project.

𝑰 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒎 𝒖𝒔𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔 ❤ 𝐈 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤. Date Started: July 27, 2020 Date Ended: September 9, 2020 Cover by: @nikkidesigns Highest ranking: #3 haiku #8 rhyme #10 poesia #139 poetry #112 poems 🏆ACHIEVEMENTS🏆 🥈 in Vraveio Elite 2020 🥈 in The KitKat Awards

I basically write whatever I feel like it. I do take requests in the case there's something specific someone wants to see.

A town blooming out of nowhere. A dysfunctional wall looming over its citizens. A box full of envelopes addressed to a girl with no past. And so Catherine receives some letters with a peculiar quirk: One person writes on the front, The other writes on the back. {Extended Summary Inside :D}

So this is just a group of poems I put together. Some are really old, some I will write the day I post them. You're welcome to criticize my work, and give it to me straight. You're also just welcome to read. So, without further ado......

just products of my thought-inebriated mind

A series of poems governing the sovereign thought within. Perhaps it's a means of fulfillment Or just another thought of cloy To me it alls seems irreverent But perhaps you may find some joy What lies within this crystalline tower Will reveal all things that I desire So sit back and relax with shovel in tow And indulge in the Loh of my yesterday

Amateur hiker, Gianni Serrano, wakes up in an unfamiliar place. With time running out, will she survive the abominations she encounters, or will she become one of them?

Bits and pieces of the neat little world we box ourselves inside of. How many males write poetry? Probably all of the ones here.