"I am un-awake in that fathomless nothing. Completely held within it, by it. It and it alone. Loose, yet buried with an assuringly inescapable deepness. Something so heavy, its weight innumerable, uncountable and seemingly immeasurable. Holding me down, I am pinned…Yet in an agreeable spot: A place that’s simply fine to be stuck into forever. It agrees as it is whispering to me. With its thick arms and hands and legs and tongues. Wrapped around my ears and eyes and mouth, over everything. My sight is blissful blackness, my sounds are sweet silence, and my voice is agreeably absent. Whispering wordlessly that I don’t have a choice anymore- that I don’t have to choose. Kissing the ideas out from the inside of my ear. Pillowing comfort deep into my eardrums. That lacking, lacking of everything...It’s good…No mistakes, no choice with a consequence so far into the future you’d have forgotten when it bites you, no choice to regress back again from the inch of spaced progress made. Like a small spiralled creature, contorting itself back to that painful shape, the stillness just that bit less painful than the moving... No- just better. Just better, that nothing is surrounded by nothing. Another sketch of a darkening layer on a hard pressed black. An encirclement of itself in a personal, petty, civil war. So calm and slow. That is me in this- in this moment. That drags itself into an imperceivable thinness, carrying to eternity. I want to ask questions…But I don’t feel a throat. Only a passage, whistling silently within me. A lethargic spreading of gas, foreboding in its desperate approach, rather than a shot or a huff: A shooting of noise that forms words. It is not nearly energetic, not nearly alive, not nearly anything, to be able to do that. So I can’t ask the thought that gasps in but not out through the passage. Left only with that airy feeling, of something missing; something begging to be set free. Pathetically; like a dying birds’ gasp to be let out the cage it has only known."Apologies if it's very derivative of the opening of Disco Elysium, or has bad pace/prose, too much metaphor etc. I wrote it, for the most part, when I was bored. Though I will post the rest if it's asked for.
>>23823154I like it, though some bits could be reworked for better flow (e.g. several sentences in a row of the same length, likely unintentional). And good on you for actually posting work.
>>23823385Thank you, I do find that making prose flow well/organically is more difficult when I'm trying to write something more complex or higher quality like this. Still inexperienced and all.
>>23823154>blissful blackness, my sounds are sweet silence, and my voice is agreeably absent. Whispering wordlesslyDon't alliterate like this, it comes across as try-hard and amateurish
>>23823154>un-awakeStopped reading then and thereTerrible prose.
>>23823401Practice, practice, practice. You're actually writing, unlike most of us here.
>>23823154My general advice for descriptive passages is to maintain a sense of narration and progression. Imagine you are drawing your image for a viewer in real time. It begins with an outline, then leads to detail, and ends with a sum that is greater than it's part, i.e. some sort of takeaway. If you harp too much on the details or swap between different aspects of what you are trying to depict too quickly, your reader loses focus. Some of the descriptions in your introduction are too verbose, and others redundant. Take the sentences you like the most and identify surrounding sentences that seem to describe the same thing. The paradox with redundant descriptions is that while they describe the same thing, they do so in different ways, which creates conflict in the reader's imagination. I think with descriptions, less is more - never redescribe something, simply progress your drawing of the image onto the next aspect. That, and watch out for hanging dependent clauses. >>23825224this
>>23823154Is this really a story or is it you griping poetically?
