A Jumble

A random assortment of out-of-place thoughts. WARNING: This may contain content relating to or being SELF-HARM, DEPRESSION, MENTAL DISORDERS, OR ANY OTHER TRIGGERING CONTENT. BE ADVISED.

1:

Dark breath trailing her lips.

Tinted air on the edge of his tongue.

A long drag,

think fast,

time, past, and mistakes were made.

-End-

2: 

As the sun sets, Elijah looks to Benjamin. His eyes sparkle with the curiosity of any seventeen-year-old kid. He grins gently, hair blowing gently in the cool wind. "Isn't this nice?" Elijah says to Benjamin, who simply nods before smiling. The fresh air around them pulled itself into their bodies, forcing them to feel and smell the scent that left the two in utter shock at the moment itself. "So... shouldn't we be heading home?" Benjamin says. Elijah simply nods but continues smiling. "One moment." He says. Benjamin watches as Elijah presses his cheek into his right shoulder. The seventeen-year-old closes his eyes.

-End-

3:

To be real for a second. I think... I won't lie. I think I... I want a mental disorder? Does that make sense? I mean, I see all of these people that have depression or anxiety and the such, and yes, I know it feels horrible, but their talents are always the best talents compared to other peoples', such as music, art, or writing. So... yes, I see it as weird, but I think that I always crave that feeling because I always get down when I compare myself to other people who have problems they can never solve but cure it temporarily with music or art or writing. I wish I was more like these people.

Sometimes I think I do have Depression. And I might. I was talking with my school guidance counselor for, what, two weeks? This was after I sent in a required poll on suicide or mental health risk, and proved to might have depression from that paper. This paper, though, may have been wrong. I... I didn't fill in some answers on the paper, but filling these answers in would have made me feel crazy and stupid. What were they? Well... I don't even want to tell. But I didn't. These answers I didn't fill in... would lead me to a mental health check in and probably being evaluated for depression. I just don't want to be, you know, "That gay kid with depression". I want to be me. I want to live without a label as harsh as such. I'm just scared.

-End-

4:

Reviews

[Delmar Cooper]

I would say the writing is not conventional, but I would not say it is irrational. If a reader takes the writing, or some parts of the writing, as non fiction it will come across as angsty and self serving. If taken as fiction or a report on some person once removed from the narrator it seems quite well written, almost inspired.
So like a lucky shot at billiards, the art is in keeping a straight face when the eight ball falls.

[RicardoRoo]

So, are you saying I should specify this as non-fiction or fiction? This is really impossible, since these stories are designed to range for different audiences.

[Delmar Cooper]

" are you saying I should specify this as non-fiction or fiction?"
No, but in the last section the first person POV gives an implication the writing is a true, first person account - the narrator becomes the subject of the piece. When the narrator _is_ the main character, the piece is in danger of self indulgent angst. If that is what the writer is after, full speed ahead, but if the writer wants to write a piece of fiction maybe not. A third person account would distance writer from narrator, narrator from main character. Since you are a master of the unconventional I'd love to see this written in second person and risk the angst label. All in all it is good writing and I'm glad I read it.