|Pages in topic: [1 2] >|
The Second StudentZ Writing Contests starts ... now ! :-)
Thread poster: Anne Diamantidis
Hello fellow StudentZ !
I'm very very happy and delighted to announce the Second Student Writing Contest !
The subject this time is "taking the plunge" !
Feeling that it would be great for you to write about something close to you and your lives - it does not mean that is has to be about school or university, it can also be about your personal life - the topic of that contest this time is you sharing a strong moment in your life after a decision you took.
In other words, "taking the plunge" is like making a leap in something important in your life, taking a risky and important decision, and go for it.
There is no restriction on format, that means you can write whatever you prefer : a poem, anecdote, short story, lyrics, reflective essay.... etc !
The word limit is 350 words maximum (that means you can write less !) - language is English
Please enter your stories in that topic - For comments, questions etc, please post in the other topic opened for that purpose. So this thread is reserved for the stories !
You have 4 weeks to enter your story, until Friday, December 14th. After that date, you'll have approx. a week for the votes. The voting phase will end on December 27th.
This time there are amazing prices to win, as Xmas presents !!! One year of membership for the winner, and one year extension of your mebership if you are already a member.
Six months of membership for second place and three months for third place !
So, I declare the Contest open !
Good luck to all of you - and most importantly, have fun !
| || |
| | xxxEndlezz
Local time: 02:33
English to Dutch
| Taking the plunge || Nov 17, 2007 |
All I could remember, was darkness. Wild waters gushing around me. I thought I would die. It seemed as if the swirling flood ripped me apart. Branches and rocks scraped off my skin while an odd and inexplicable smell filled up my senses. Pain and fear were ubiquitous, yet I could not feel nor think. I tried to ignore the bloodcurdling screams coming from everywhere. I knew I wasn’t alone but I could not see anything, therefore not help anyone. Hundreds of others must have been around me but they were unreachable in this pitch-black night. An overwhelming noise in the distance resonated over the valley. Images of giant cataracts flashed through my head. For a moment I imagined seeing a bright light. Then…
A bang. Everything stopped.
I did not know for how long I had been unconscious but I was filled with a warm and intense feeling. Barely able to move, I wondered if I was in a coma. Ages, it seemed like ages, but gradually I started to pull myself together. I started realizing that I would have to make an effort to break out of this status quo. But my fear resurfaced. What if no-one else made it? What if I was the only survivor? No, it couldn’t be. And besides, it couldn’t get any worse. From this point on, it could only get better! It was that single second, that I chose my destiny. I closed my eyes and took the plunge. And there I was, in the delivery room.
| || |
| | Katharina Harer
Local time: 17:33
English to German
| Nothing less || Nov 19, 2007 |
Lying there, in my darkest, hardest, in my worst moments, hours, days, wondering about life, subsistence in general, existence of reality itself, keeping all these thoughts to myself - so they wouldn´t get destructed, destroyed, disturbed by the outher world - the bad world, where things like this happen, can happen, will happen, in the most basic moment of my life, everything was at the same time so cristal clear, clear as the water in the Carribbean, clear as the clearest sky, like a speeding train came the realization to my mind, filled it up and left me behind with a sheer grin on my face..
| | florcsita
Local time: 03:33
English to French
| My death love || Nov 21, 2007 |
Though the sky was dense with clouds, a diffused light from some fragment of a moon helped the eye decipher the battlements of the old castle defeated by time and knelt by the past ages, but still black and ominous in the pale light. A vast silence reigned over the land which itself was a desolation, lifeless, without movement, so lone and cold that the spirit of it was not even that of sadness.
I could feel the great grayish walls on my skin which was trembling with fear, thousands of thoughts were tumbling out and my heart, a mosaic of colorless feelings was pounding ashamed in my chest. The image of the castle was hunting me, a castle framed by the sparse, wan leaves, touch with mortality and waiting to pass out into nothingness, to see in the old mirror my faith, my sense of pain. My pale hope of life, once flickering on the large corridors was waiting to resign and join darkness. An oppressive atmosphere was clinging in the air, just above the lanky towers, while the sky, compounded by unshed tears was preparing to pour its grief over the scenery, to wash out my pain, the sorrow of the mournful view.
The castle was standing up like a testimony of power and faith, still being a wistful incarnation of the ghost who once has been: my love. It will sometimes haunt even the mightiest structure with the word: DEATH.
| || |
| | jamisabar
Local time: 09:33
Japanese to English
| Do you love me? || Nov 24, 2007 |
"When this is over, do you want to be just friends?"
Two weeks of frustration, fear, anger, and love intensified by backpacking through the Pyrenees and now overwhelmed by Barcelona pressed into my gut like the invisible hand of destiny.
I felt sick. I didn't know what to say. How do you ask for years of time together when reality is months apart on different continents?
"I don't know. Maybe."
Her soft eyes looked desperately into mine, as if searching for some alternative reality where different words had been spoken.
"I can't believe you. How can you be so cruel?"
She barely managed to get those words out and even still they were muffled by the sobs that started halfway through.
Each tremble of her shoulders tore out chunks from my heart, until I was left barren and numb.
The paint on the wall was peeling. There was another layer of paint beneath.
I wondered how long this apartment had been here. Was it used by anarchist groups during the revolution?
How many years ago would that have been?
Why were there so many ants?
My mind was a mechanical tool devoid of emotion, churning out logic.
She managed a voice through her tears.
"Do you love me?"
The cold assembly line of thoughts jammed up.
And then I watched helplessly from behind transparent windows as the robotics re-engaged, ruthlessly pressing out and crushing words together in strings to form a sentence.
"I don't know."
I did know, though.
Keeping her like some fragile crystal ball at arms length, terrified of hurting her, I could never be close to her.
Before I could love her, I had to be honest with her, and myself.
Only my voice wouldn't speak in anything but that flat, surgical tone, and I could feel my words like a scalpel in her heart.
"The reason I kept going out with you, is that I didn't want to hurt you."
And now I hurt like never before.
[Edited at 2007-11-24 16:03]
| || |
| | virginia1
Local time: 01:33
English to Italian
This morning I only had sad songs in my eyes... it was raining.
Lately it’s always raining. Where is all that water coming from? How long has it been pouring down?
I can’t remember..
Do I really hate all this or I just can’t stand my bearing with this? With them?
Not long can their unprovoked poison be spit or swallowed before the shapes of their souls succumb to the winding shape of human malice.
I drag myself to this place, every morning. I have done that for years. The colours of the world outside flow before my immobile eyes while I sit patiently by the car’s window and wait unhopefully to reach the grey building where the knackers are ready for the next shift. To the slaughtering..
I am now just a reflection of what I used to be.
No. I need to see clearly and recollect the image of my previous self. I need a higher point of view, I must go up to the roof..
Yes. I can see now how small they are and I can finally see myself waving from below and shouting: ‘Take the plunge!’ I don’t accept the last invitation to stay, it came on a piece of creased paper, a janitor has been sent to deliver it, it’s just one of his duties.. I take the plunge, I am free to go, that was the only way, I can be myself again.
[Edited at 2007-12-03 17:13]
| || |
| | Ana Silva
Local time: 01:33
English to Portuguese
Taste of silver in my mouth
Those words… solemn words:
I wish I need you
But you don’t.
Flight away from that mind
Just like a wind from yesterday.
One day I’ll wait for you
But you didn’t.
Dreams in black and white,
Days to come,
Tears to stream,
Love to await.
The punch line.
| Time to sum up, isn't it? || Dec 4, 2007 |
December has started…it is the right time to start summing up the whole year. Come on, everybody does it, don’t tell me you don’t because I won’t believe it. Yes, you do it too, even if it has a mere importance. This year has started with tears for me, a flood of tears. But I believe that things can be worse and worse…till your life seems to reach the deepest point. Then it cannot help but invert its path. My 2007 started with almost losing my love. It has been hard, for him before and for me after. Then knew I had the chance of going to London. It wasn’t exactly the right moment to know that, but this is how it went. What was the right choice? Keeping my life as it was or change it and leave? As in a famous film, Massimo Troisi began again from three, because three were the good things he had made in his life, I started again from two. The belief that I am leaving for a better future and will not to lose the love of my life. So I took the plunge and decided to keep my life as it was, changing it!!! Time heals all wounds, they say. 2007 seems to have a happy ending for me. Now I give you the stage, it is your turn to judge your year in this world. Have a nice sum up!
| || |
I was going through a very rough time in college. I am a dancer. I work with my body. My body was injured and sore all the time. My soul was damaged. The feeling of not being with myself was making me tired. I was tired all the time. I was crying a lot. I hated myself and I was hoping for something to happen to change my life. I decided to go to Israel. To find a dance job there. And to run away from myself. Maybe to create a life that would make me healthier. I had this idea to leave everything and build something new. I booked my flight on the 28th of July. And I wanted to run away. My guts were telling me not to go. I was scared. I was scared of everything. Every day seemed to be a challenge I couldn't handle. I hit my lowest point. A point nobody wants to be and yet the desire to remain there - motionless- is stronger than anything else. But I went. I took the rest of what I had left of myself and forced myself to fly. Fly out into the new and scary place I have never been to before. A place I wanted to discover and never get to know at the same time. And I found a place where I belong. Where my soul is healthy. Where everything falls into place. The place within myself where I am me. I found the person I was so afraid of and who I didn't want to explore back where I was. But everything changed. It changed because I love this place. And I love myself - finally.
| || |
If you ever looked at the sky and tried to see, just see...anything – not with your eyes, of course, because they are quite deceptive – but with your soul. If you tried to see what's there you could notice that there's a house. It can't be described as big but actually it isn't really small, it is a house in the „right” size.
If you open yourself wide enough, if you set your spirit free you can realise, that inside, as it usually is, there are rooms, nothing special about them. There's a kitchen, a bathroom a living room and...(the most appropriate name here would be simply ROOM)
Now you only need a little more effort and you can enter it. The ROOM isn't the biggest one and there are smaller. Near the window on a beautiful blue-like carpet there's a desk, a huge one with beautiful carvings of flower motifs on it. Behind that desk sits a man or maybe a „Man” could be better. A Man of slender posture in his midst and what's weird about him no matter how hard you want to see his face you can't, it isn't blurred or something, no, it is just so... unmemorable. In front of the Man, on the desk two buttons lay, a red one and a green one.
If you can strain yourself for a bit longer, you can observe that He presses the buttons from time to time, but not like we press the button in an elevator. The Man hesitates always before pressing the button, He rises his hand , moves it over one button than over the other, His appearance changes... He seems worried...He cahnges His decision once more... finally he presses the button and for nothing more than a second there's something in Him that tells: „was it a right choice I made?” and again, He becomes calm and still as a stone statue.
| || |
| Writing contest: Your shirt || Dec 9, 2007 |
Your white shirt talking to me, as I drive down a busy road. Unwell, a friend attends to him and waits for me to get back. They try to call me, but there is no response. The overture, the gap, the closure. A nick of time away from our dimensions, and in that moment we become like monads, alone, as in a different time-stream. Emergencies and clashes, frictions, cross-calls. Phones ring. Did he go? Could he come back? When we’re away, and later are allowed to return. From this, our thankfulness. There is another voice, the voice of the one I love, ‘I’m fine honey, don’t worry about me’. An there is an evil one, one who wants to destroy, so similar to the one who wants me and loves me. The gap opens and closes, it’s there and then no longer, and then yet again. The mental effort with which to say ‘no’. This is God, or the nearest thing to it.
| two pictures (something seasonal this way cometh) || Dec 9, 2007 |
I. The flight of birds
This is a season for long letters,
and tired thoughts,
moving across an ocean desert,
ink crows and paper doves
for remembering and forgetting.
…to be whole is to be set in stone.
To feel nothing,
to want nothing...
I wish you'd take it back.
Take it all back.
This is the season of forgetting
in paper-white letters.
You said: ...like the dead,
wanting nothing, feeling nothing.
Or like a porcelain figurine...
and at times I thought I was dead.
But me knowing you,
you knowing me,
it has us caged,
circling in thoughts not our own,
remembering in foreign words.
The boy prophet,
is tomorrow's soothsayer,
whispering outworn lies.
And your inviting, delicate ears
ache for a promise of hope.
This hunger breeds disaster…
...you said I could foretell
but I am long since lost,
and thought leads me to thought,
and winter has me drawing monstrous shapes
I dare not recognize.
There was a time before this,
but no time after.
To look beyond this glass,
is to look through the fog of your breath.
All prophecies are for the living,
from the ones long past breathing.
II. The need for ritual
You said it will pass,
words wash out,
and one day,
sitting beside an afternoon window,
I would even begin to imagine
you might have called peace.
But there is something out of reach
in a defiant blot of ink,
or in me feeling for a word
or gesture, or in a time of day.
sitting beside the window,
on one of these afternoons,
I've even begun to imagine
| || |
There was an infinite pitch-black space.
There I was, looking everything but without my eyes; listening everything but without my ears.
My presence was actual but this time it was incorporeal. Suddenly, a violet line appeared. It began to slide. Everytime, I surprisingly knew that that was a timeline that represented every single event in a lapse of centuries and centuries.
Something emited some strange imperceptible language. Another entity replied, and I started feeling myself like an intrusive because of hearing those two colossus “speaking”. At the same time, I thought that I maybe had to be present.
I understood everything what they meant but all that was untranslatable for any other out of that dimension.
It was a confrontation that controlled all kind of dimensions!.
There were only time and space and everything was universal. That reality was indescribable.
But something was not to be heard. Then I woke up.
Who would believe soul can go beyond?. Could I take the plunge and tell somebody this? Is there anybody to believe me?.
Time later, my adventure was told to one single person who said me:
“Was there a violet line?. Let me say that colour is related to metamorphosis”.
| || |
| A piece of me... || Dec 10, 2007 |
When I was waiting ...falling on my knees ...I had to realise ...feel that un-ease.. I was trying ...never wanted being behind...all those things were just blowing my mind...suddenly I saw my moon but that was just a tear which went dry too soon...I thought I could touch the sky but the only words sounding in my mind were you should never lie..why was the sun blue and the sky yellow? I didn't wanna die I was just a too young fellow... Finally I survived but there were other feelings that died... I woke up in new tomorrow and he wasn't there...pretending there's no sorrow even though the life wasn't fair...I'm whispering.. silence is here only... I'm suffering being so lonely...A part of me is still here ...much of me is only fear...the third of me is still feeling so empty and clean...the half of me is HIM.
| Business Law For Those In Love || Dec 10, 2007 |
Starting a relationship is like setting up a business.
I’ve spent too many hours, way too many days, thinking of risks. While inside I was converting smiles into questions – “Would you like to have a cup of tea with me?” – I kept my mouth shut, and went on calculating. For the first time in my life, I was thinking before acting; “It must be the season”, I thought, “or perhaps the business lectures, recently added to my private knowledge pool”.
A good businesswoman is the mistress of her own objectives.
This was the point where my romance-oriented thoughts were yelling at my conscious, wondering whether what I was doing was fair: betraying my heart, refusing to act by its orders. An imaginary flipchart before my eyes, I was ready to draft a target-oriented brief, according to each and every law of attraction. As some things were not working right, not fitting within the diagram, I tried to perform a SWOT analysis; I’ve spent too many hours, way too many days, pretending to write down the pros and cons.
When willing to set up a business, one needs to know the value of the available assets.
I’ve placed a critical eye upon me, thinking objectively. Every move I took, every smile I launched, every word tone: planning and sketching, defining my strengths and weaknesses, pondering whether they were helping me to or preventing me from achieving my one and only goal. “Intellect is all you’ve got” – they used to tell me, and I believed them, acting consequently.
Until the day came; the final day. There was no more thinking of targets. I felt like a living, moving, breathing target, myself. And I decided to close my eyes and jump off the cliff, arms wide open, embracing the uncertainty of future.
“So, I was thinking. We should really grab a cup of tea together, sometime.”
| || |
|Pages in topic: [1 2] >|