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Project Leader:
sjhunt2005
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Participants:
The WEbook community -
Who Can Write:
All Participants -
Category:
Non-Fiction -
Genre:
Body, Mind & Spirit
Inspiration -
Language:
English
OVERVIEW
This site is dedicated to the many people that have changed my life. I never knew it was possible to accept such love and support I have been given on Webook. Men, of course you are welcome here, this is not a militant pro-fem thing.
I encourage anyone and everone who would like a neutral site, without drama, to display and read the best writers on Webook: COME HERE.
THIS IS WHERE WE ARE, IN HARMONY.
Feel free to criticize other's work only if you do it respectfully, supportively and lovingly. Please give accolades to the writing that rises and encourage others to learn and improve.
I want to especially welcome all people who have been abused by adults.
YOU CAN TELL YOUR STORY HERE
Please reach out and give attention to the writings of victims of abuse. But then again, to each her own and all is allowed. Except breaking any normal code of conduct among beer drinkers and wine sippers.
I encourage anyone and everone who would like a neutral site, without drama, to display and read the best writers on Webook: COME HERE.
THIS IS WHERE WE ARE, IN HARMONY.
Feel free to criticize other's work only if you do it respectfully, supportively and lovingly. Please give accolades to the writing that rises and encourage others to learn and improve.
I want to especially welcome all people who have been abused by adults.
YOU CAN TELL YOUR STORY HERE
Please reach out and give attention to the writings of victims of abuse. But then again, to each her own and all is allowed. Except breaking any normal code of conduct among beer drinkers and wine sippers.
THE HUNT FOR SOULS
book_central
THE HUNT FOR SOULS
This site is dedicated to the many people that have changed my life. I never knew it was possible to accept such love and support I have been given on Webook. Men, of course you are welcome here, this is not a militant pro-fem thing.
I encourage anyone and everone who would like a neutral site, without drama, to display and read the best writers on Webook: COME HERE.
THIS IS WHERE WE ARE, IN HARMONY.
Feel free to criticize other's work only if you do it respectfully, supportively and l ... more »
I encourage anyone and everone who would like a neutral site, without drama, to display and read the best writers on Webook: COME HERE.
THIS IS WHERE WE ARE, IN HARMONY.
Feel free to criticize other's work only if you do it respectfully, supportively and l ... more »
This site is dedicated to the many people that have changed my life. I never knew it was possible to accept such love and support I have been given on Webook. Men, of course you are welcome here, this is not a militant pro-fem thing.
I encourage anyone and everone who would like a neutral site, without drama, to display and read the best writers on Webook: COME HERE.
THIS IS WHERE WE ARE, IN HARMONY.
Feel free to criticize other's work only if you do it respectfully, supportively and lovingly. Please give accolades to the writing that rises and encourage others to learn and improve.
I want to especially welcome all people who have been abused by adults.
YOU CAN TELL YOUR STORY HERE
Please reach out and give attention to the writings of victims of abuse. But then again, to each her own and all is allowed. Except breaking any normal code of conduct among beer drinkers and wine sippers. Less
I encourage anyone and everone who would like a neutral site, without drama, to display and read the best writers on Webook: COME HERE.
THIS IS WHERE WE ARE, IN HARMONY.
Feel free to criticize other's work only if you do it respectfully, supportively and lovingly. Please give accolades to the writing that rises and encourage others to learn and improve.
I want to especially welcome all people who have been abused by adults.
YOU CAN TELL YOUR STORY HERE
Please reach out and give attention to the writings of victims of abuse. But then again, to each her own and all is allowed. Except breaking any normal code of conduct among beer drinkers and wine sippers. Less
GIVE FEEDBACK
2/22/2011 9:17 PM PST
alphaKilo is back.....
12/28/2010 12:53 AM PST
Keep on writing. You've got talent. ^_^
10/4/2010 4:26 AM PDT
Harmonious Friends..... are wonderful!
5/7/2010 10:55 AM PDT
—“I suspect there will never be a requiem for a dream, simply because it will destroy us before we have the opportunity to mourn it's passing.”—
A true dream is never crushed. It may become trampled and shot down by society, but the dream lives on deep within each individual. Dreams are like a parasite—obtaining nourishment and growing—without directly benefitting the host to which it is attached. The dream begins as something faint —an image or emotion—its edges rough from the pollution and corruption from the outside world. It seeks shelter within—the brain like a maze—forces what is now a thought¬¬—through the caverns of the mind. The thought becomes pestering and intrusive to the individual in the outside world. His thoughts and actions are disconnected—states of sleep deprivation and loss of appetite—begin to show wear on the individual’s outer appearance. There is an unknown battle going on deep within. The mind tries to protects the individual from the intrusive thought—for it knows it to be a leech—that will suck the life out of the individual until there is nothing left—and again move on.
The thought is ever thwarting—as if confused by the haze produced by the pollution outside. This is not pollution in a chemical sense—but instead physical. The pollution that results from the dreams of men corrupted. The men who let the parasite take hold.
A true dream is never crushed. It may become trampled and shot down by society, but the dream lives on deep within each individual. Dreams are like a parasite—obtaining nourishment and growing—without directly benefitting the host to which it is attached. The dream begins as something faint —an image or emotion—its edges rough from the pollution and corruption from the outside world. It seeks shelter within—the brain like a maze—forces what is now a thought¬¬—through the caverns of the mind. The thought becomes pestering and intrusive to the individual in the outside world. His thoughts and actions are disconnected—states of sleep deprivation and loss of appetite—begin to show wear on the individual’s outer appearance. There is an unknown battle going on deep within. The mind tries to protects the individual from the intrusive thought—for it knows it to be a leech—that will suck the life out of the individual until there is nothing left—and again move on.
The thought is ever thwarting—as if confused by the haze produced by the pollution outside. This is not pollution in a chemical sense—but instead physical. The pollution that results from the dreams of men corrupted. The men who let the parasite take hold.
4/29/2010 1:34 PM PDT
Sorry mom, I know I don’t make it very easy to love me. Sorry dad, I know I don’t make it very easy to say you are proud. Sorry Brooke, I know how much time you spend trying to teach me how to do these things.
I mean the way I see it is I am in college, I am not involved in any terrible addictions, I made a division three tennis team, I do my homework, I get to class on time, I don’t go out of my way to hurt peoples feelings, I’m polite, composed, well traveled.
The way they see it is I am in college but not making the dean’s list, I am not involved in any terrible addictions but I have friends that are, I made a division three tennis team, but quit, I do my homework but don’t ace every single test, I get to class on time yet have been absent a time or two, I don’t go out of my way to hurt people’s feelings, but don’t compliment often enough, I’m polite but have sworn in anger, composed but crazy, well traveled- wait no, spoiled.
What can I say? I try to do what makes me happy. The happiest person I know is my sister. I have to question though, is her happiness real? It’s not my fault I have to live up to a human who comes as close to perfect as humanly possible. Just because what makes her happy just happens to be what makes everybody else happy, does not make me a failure. Unlucky- maybe. What bothers me the most is that she only cares about my happiness. She would do anything for me. She loves me unconditionally. Of course she does, why wouldn’t she. She’s my best friend. Why wouldn’t she be? Yet I am miserable around her. Not because I am a miserable person, in fact my life is more exciting than hers in so many ways due to my imperfections, that I would never for a moment want to walk one hour in her shoes. I know that it sounds like I am jealous, and yeah- I probably wouldn’t mind if I had her hair and she had mine; but the reason I am miserable around her is because I feel bad for her. I feel the more miserable I am around her, the better balance of emotion we can evade when we are together. She’s in love has been for six years, “high school sweet hearts.” I have suffered from depression; she has suffered from obsession. Mine got me to the point where I could learn to appreciate what it is to be happy. Hers got her nowhere. I want to add depth in her life. She struggles with the fact that she cannot relate to me, it kills her. She wants me to experience the happiness she has found yet I want her to find the sadness that has taught me so much. Happiness is real, when you have earned it. My sister has not earned it, so it’s not as rewarding. She was handed a lot of things that make her happy, not to say she is not a hard worker, because she might just be the definition of such an ideal, but I feel she is missing out on a vital part of life. The hardship. The pain.
I never thought I would wish pain on any one that I loved; but it’s the one difference that pulls us apart. It’s also the one thing that makes it so easy for her to love me. Pity. As well as it is the one thing that makes it so hard for me to understand her. Spite.
4/29/2010 1:33 PM PDT
Sorry mom, I know I don’t make it very easy to love me. Sorry dad, I know I don’t make it very easy to say you are proud. Sorry Brooke, I know how much time you spend trying to teach me how to do these things.
I mean the way I see it is I am in college, I am not involved in any terrible addictions, I made a division three tennis team, I do my homework, I get to class on time, I don’t go out of my way to hurt peoples feelings, I’m polite, composed, well traveled.
The way they see it is I am in college but not making the dean’s list, I am not involved in any terrible addictions but I have friends that are, I made a division three tennis team, but quit, I do my homework but don’t ace every single test, I get to class on time yet have been absent a time or two, I don’t go out of my way to hurt people’s feelings, but don’t compliment often enough, I’m polite but have sworn in anger, composed but crazy, well traveled- wait no, spoiled.
What can I say? I try to do what makes me happy. The happiest person I know is my sister. I have to question though, is her happiness real? It’s not my fault I have to live up to a human who comes as close to perfect as humanly possible. Just because what makes her happy just happens to be what makes everybody else happy, does not make me a failure. Unlucky- maybe. What bothers me the most is that she only cares about my happiness. She would do anything for me. She loves me unconditionally. Of course she does, why wouldn’t she. She’s my best friend. Why wouldn’t she be? Yet I am miserable around her. Not because I am a miserable person, in fact my life is more exciting than hers in so many ways due to my imperfections, that I would never for a moment want to walk one hour in her shoes. I know that it sounds like I am jealous, and yeah- I probably wouldn’t mind if I had her hair and she had mine; but the reason I am miserable around her is because I feel bad for her. I feel the more miserable I am around her, the better balance of emotion we can evade when we are together. She’s in love has been for six years, “high school sweet hearts.” I have suffered from depression; she has suffered from obsession. Mine got me to the point where I could learn to appreciate what it is to be happy. Hers got her nowhere. I want to add depth in her life. She struggles with the fact that she cannot relate to me, it kills her. She wants me to experience the happiness she has found yet I want her to find the sadness that has taught me so much. Happiness is real, when you have earned it. My sister has not earned it, so it’s not as rewarding. She was handed a lot of things that make her happy, not to say she is not a hard worker, because she might just be the definition of such an ideal, but I feel she is missing out on a vital part of life. The hardship. The pain.
I never thought I would wish pain on any one that I loved; but it’s the one difference that pulls us apart. It’s also the one thing that makes it so easy for her to love me. Pity. As well as it is the one thing that makes it so hard for me to understand her. Spite.
4/28/2010 8:32 PM PDT
<p>I wrote an essay for a class in college that had the same title. I cannot remember what I wrote in that essay but I remember why I wrote it. My father has scarred me in ways I didn't even know where possible. He was the monster I feared as a child and the reason I shy away from men. </p><p>I was sexual abused by him and those memories although mostly forgotten now still haunt the recesses of my mind. I was a child who acted oddly. I never fit in any where. I shied away from true friendships because I thought that all people wanted to use me as my father did. I have a lot of hang ups about myself. I fear what others think and say, yet on the surface I act as though nothing anyone says can bother me. I hate depending on other people or even asking others for help.</p><p>I write in part because I want to be more then nothing. When I have a bad day or when I feel like I can't go on living in this self created loneliness I wonder if anyone would remember me in 100 years. I want to be remembered. If nothing else I want my tale to be told as a warning against living selfishly. Yet I know that I will probably end up pushing papers somewhere and I will be nothing more than a blip in this life. </p><p>I suffer from a lot of things because of what happened when I was younger. I don't date because I think every man out there is going to use me. I try not to make friends because I'm afraid I'm going to use them. I'm afraid of what I might become. Every morning I see my reflection and I see my father's nose. I see his glare sometimes and I see his perfectly white teeth. I am my father's daughter and I don't ever want to subject someone to the manipulation, fear and worry he caused in me. I cannot change what I've learned to be.</p><p>The man I call father is someone you meet and instantly want to know more about. He smiles and the world seems better. He is a friendly person and seems to want to get to know you. Behind those brown eyes and perfectly white teeth is a monster who calculates what you might be able to give him.</p><p>I am the same way. I've been hurt and so I will not be hurt again. I will use people without meaning to and I will hurt those who get too close. I hate that I act like that but I can't help it. I grew up in a church, I used to be a good christian but now I can't go in to a church. Now, I don't want to pretend or listen to sermons because I will ignore what the pastor says. I've learned to care only about myself. I've learned to walk away from the hurting and I've learned to burn bridges as soon as they're built.</p><p>I'm not sure if I can say everything bad thing I've done is my father's fault, but he makes a good scape goat. I hate that he's still a part of my life even though I haven't seen him in six years. I don't ever want to see him again and I don't ever want to be happy. In truth I want to be miserable so that I can make sure he can't ever say "So what I abused you when you were a child but you still turned out ok, you're still happy." I don't want to be happy. I don't want him to think I'm ok because I'm not and I never will be. I feel as if I the world wants me to move on and yet my mind cannot move on. I'm stuck in two places and I'm lost. </p><p>I know what I should do, I know what I'm supposed to do, but I can't. At this moment in time all I can do is hate. <br></p>
4/15/2010 3:57 PM PDT
FEEDBACK PLEASE!
Oh the sorrow that comes from losing a loved one. I lost a loved one once, many many years ago. He was a great man, and I remember him like it was only yesterday...
"Wake up mom!" I yelled as a jumped on my mothers bed. "Its Christmas!"
"Give me a couple of minutes," my mom rolled over and groaned at me.
Now you see, when my mom says to give her a few minutes, she actually means a few hours, and when she say a few hours she means the whole day. I wasnt going to take that. I mean it was christmas for crying out loud. Most of my family was coming over soon, including my grandmother and granfather. When They arrived at my mother and I's tiny apartment, I was extatic. I was young and christmas was the world to me.
I dont remember most of my presents that year, but i do remember one. One very special, very remebered Electric Scooter.
Just to let you know something about my granddaddy, he was cool. Not like those old geysers who sit around and watch you ride the scooter. No, he actually got up that day and rode that scooter up and down the street. Probably even more than I did.
My gradfather passed away later. He was an architect working on a jobsite when he abrubtly fell to the ground while on the phone with someone. No one ever found out who he was talking to at the time, and I dont think anyone ever wanted to. My grandaddy was dead before he hit the ground, and i'll always remember him as a boot wearing, scooter riding, cool granddad, that always called me booger.
Oh the sorrow that comes from losing a loved one. I lost a loved one once, many many years ago. He was a great man, and I remember him like it was only yesterday...
"Wake up mom!" I yelled as a jumped on my mothers bed. "Its Christmas!"
"Give me a couple of minutes," my mom rolled over and groaned at me.
Now you see, when my mom says to give her a few minutes, she actually means a few hours, and when she say a few hours she means the whole day. I wasnt going to take that. I mean it was christmas for crying out loud. Most of my family was coming over soon, including my grandmother and granfather. When They arrived at my mother and I's tiny apartment, I was extatic. I was young and christmas was the world to me.
I dont remember most of my presents that year, but i do remember one. One very special, very remebered Electric Scooter.
Just to let you know something about my granddaddy, he was cool. Not like those old geysers who sit around and watch you ride the scooter. No, he actually got up that day and rode that scooter up and down the street. Probably even more than I did.
My gradfather passed away later. He was an architect working on a jobsite when he abrubtly fell to the ground while on the phone with someone. No one ever found out who he was talking to at the time, and I dont think anyone ever wanted to. My grandaddy was dead before he hit the ground, and i'll always remember him as a boot wearing, scooter riding, cool granddad, that always called me booger.
4/15/2010 3:57 PM PDT
how do i submit somethin where everyone can see it without clicking on submit a new chapter?
4/15/2010 7:43 AM PDT
What'cha know...there is a remove button at the bottom. Dorkboy figured it out. So, ignore message above.
ME
ME
4/8/2010 6:55 PM PDT
do you know what it's like?
to be so in love
to feel as though you can't breathe...
as if you'd die
without that person...
by your side....
forever
that how it's become.
to love you so much...
but..
you only see her.
this love is not unrequited.
it's just...
out of focus...
lacking purpose...
....void of meaning
we're both...
just tired of trying.
you don't love her.
you only think you do.
but you miss...
the solidarity...
of it all.
she broke your heart so badly...
it pains me..
to watch you hurt.
but there's nothing i can do.
now i just..
get to watch you....
pick up the pieces...
as you slowly crush me....
under the weight of your...
extinguished love for her.
to be so in love
to feel as though you can't breathe...
as if you'd die
without that person...
by your side....
forever
that how it's become.
to love you so much...
but..
you only see her.
this love is not unrequited.
it's just...
out of focus...
lacking purpose...
....void of meaning
we're both...
just tired of trying.
you don't love her.
you only think you do.
but you miss...
the solidarity...
of it all.
she broke your heart so badly...
it pains me..
to watch you hurt.
but there's nothing i can do.
now i just..
get to watch you....
pick up the pieces...
as you slowly crush me....
under the weight of your...
extinguished love for her.
3/29/2010 10:35 PM PDT
walk down your own path not caring why you are there but why you choose to b here at this moment at this time and then look around what do you see why do you see what you see are there many people there or are you all alone was this a choice or a path that for a moment has loneiness these are what you should ask never look back becuase once you do you stop looking foward and you are stuck never to leave where you are
3/20/2010 2:34 AM PDT
Just to say it once, Susan... Thank you so much for this site.
Love,
Angel
Love,
Angel
This Feedback was...
3/17/2010 4:02 PM PDT
I am in harmony around you guys!
This Feedback was...
3/16/2010 7:02 PM PDT
PARDON ME I`M NOT AN ADULT BUT THANKS FOR THE STORY THOUGH.
This Feedback was...
3/11/2010 7:44 AM PST
I have to say congratulations to franny47 her poem reminded me of my mum, she died when I was just 10 and I still miss her to this day. My dad also died just over three years ago and it still hurts like hell. There are times when I think "why bother? " then I look at my children and my family and think " that's why ". I have written about my dad and my mum as it's still a work in progress. If anyone wants to take a look please do. My dad's story Memoirs of a gentleman is what he wrote and I have put it on here too. Let me know what you think and I will check here for more. Thanks for the invite sjhunt2005. :0) peace to you all.
This Feedback was...
2/6/2010 8:10 AM PST
Im happy you are feeling stronger Im slowly putting pices where they should have been from the start of my journey in this world. And yes i sence harmony around you thanks
This Feedback was...
12/16/2009 12:26 PM PST
Hope And Tears
Many a tear has fallen upon my breast
Years gone by,you have gone to your rest
Time has not erased memories of old
Smiles and sadness are one to behold
Longing to share the mysteries of life
Still missing you cuts like a knife
You are not forgotten,never my dear
I'll think of you always,your heart I'll hold near
Drinking up today and tomorrow
Making the most of each and every day
Remembering the love,burying sorrow
With faith as an anchor,finding a way
Though many travails,our memories stay
And lift us through the bitter taste of night
Uplifting us through the day as we pray
Never ending love always within our sight
Memories linger,enough to carry my heart
Through every travail,I will keep myself sane
For your love has carried me from the start
No longer is fear so prevalent in my soul
Your love is eternal,never ceasing to be
Through all the joys and sorrow;now I'am whole
Many a tear has fallen upon my breast
Years gone by,you have gone to your rest
Time has not erased memories of old
Smiles and sadness are one to behold
Longing to share the mysteries of life
Still missing you cuts like a knife
You are not forgotten,never my dear
I'll think of you always,your heart I'll hold near
Drinking up today and tomorrow
Making the most of each and every day
Remembering the love,burying sorrow
With faith as an anchor,finding a way
Though many travails,our memories stay
And lift us through the bitter taste of night
Uplifting us through the day as we pray
Never ending love always within our sight
Memories linger,enough to carry my heart
Through every travail,I will keep myself sane
For your love has carried me from the start
No longer is fear so prevalent in my soul
Your love is eternal,never ceasing to be
Through all the joys and sorrow;now I'am whole
11/18/2009 3:03 AM PST
I joined WE book a while ago but am only now looking it to the possibilities. I love the idea of this group as it fits in with my values and am happy to read/provide feedback, just ask.
I am still not sure how I go around finding the work of everyone but I will figure it out.
I am writing my first book which is called Getting "IT" Back - reconnecting to passion and purpose for people over 40.
The "IT" will be different for everyone - my IT was to become a writer, a dream I had since the age of 13 but never explored because I believed I wasn't good enough. First I started with ebooks and now I am writing my first book!
Look forward to connecting with you all
Diane
I am still not sure how I go around finding the work of everyone but I will figure it out.
I am writing my first book which is called Getting "IT" Back - reconnecting to passion and purpose for people over 40.
The "IT" will be different for everyone - my IT was to become a writer, a dream I had since the age of 13 but never explored because I believed I wasn't good enough. First I started with ebooks and now I am writing my first book!
Look forward to connecting with you all
Diane
This Feedback was...
11/12/2009 8:25 AM PST
abuse is a stain on the whole of humaity i feel personaly responsible when i read some newspapes
This Feedback was...
10/2/2009 1:08 AM PDT
Hey all, sorry for my absence, my little lad is in hospital, nothing worry about just exploratory surgery, it's pretty much routine with his condition, be back real soon, keep up the good work :)
This Feedback was...
9/25/2009 8:17 PM PDT
Hello, everyone!
Welcome! I'm very enthused and encouraged by all of you.
Let us all be friends and good critics. Read and write. Write and read.
Do not feel pressured to read others material and don't feel pressured to write as well.
Feel NO PRESSURE at all. This is a place to say what you want as you would to a good, good friend.
If it ryhmes, great! But this is not just a site for poetry.
If it is fiction, that's cool too. I don't know why they don't have a "button" for "both" instead of fiction or non-fiction. But I had to choose one, so I went with non-fiction.
However, half of my writing is bullshit, so really belongs in the fiction category. Oh, well, can't please everyone! Nor do we want to!
There are a lot of things we are dis-pleased with and you can share it here.
Welcome! I'm very enthused and encouraged by all of you.
Let us all be friends and good critics. Read and write. Write and read.
Do not feel pressured to read others material and don't feel pressured to write as well.
Feel NO PRESSURE at all. This is a place to say what you want as you would to a good, good friend.
If it ryhmes, great! But this is not just a site for poetry.
If it is fiction, that's cool too. I don't know why they don't have a "button" for "both" instead of fiction or non-fiction. But I had to choose one, so I went with non-fiction.
However, half of my writing is bullshit, so really belongs in the fiction category. Oh, well, can't please everyone! Nor do we want to!
There are a lot of things we are dis-pleased with and you can share it here.
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