Hey peeps! I know I haven't been writing and uploading much, but here I am at last!
This lil' piece is my response to a particularly pressing issue that needs to be highlighted: ripping of stories.
Not direct word-for-word ripping, but mind you, it's still the same, and this is especially felt when you're the author of the original and you read the ripped off piece. Quite a number of you might know who/what I'm referring to here, but I shan't point the finger at anyone. I'm not sure if the "writer" in question will read this, but I do hope you know who you are if you do.
On a lighter note, I still do hope you will all enjoy this piece, regardless of intent.
//The moon competes with the wispy shrouds for dominance, a battle of dark and light; an uncertain decision.//
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How does it feel like, for something you've worked so hard for to be taken away from you, for someone to be credited for your own achievements, posing them off as his own?
I ponder this, lying here on my bed of grass as I absorb myself in the vast expanse of dark velvet, mesmerized by the jewels of gods of old.
The night breeze gently brushes my cheeks, its cooing softly urging sleep onto the world. The leaves of the grand maple trees around me rustle alongside, an accompaniment to the silent melody that attempts to calm this displeased soul.
When was the last time I'd managed to sleep well without having to seek solace in this un-answering comfort, because there was no one else who would hear? When did it all begin, I wonder, when my hard work began to lose its worth, when all my effort began to go towards bolstering another's pathetic attempt at sponging off for his own glory, for his own insecure need to reassure himself that he was actually of some speck of worth in limitless world?
Why hadn't I realized it sooner, that he had been showering my tales with praise, following the records of my journey, simply for the sake of compiling my discoveries and experiences and posing them off as his own?
Now what had he just done today, that had left me storming out of the free market, feeling so irate? I try to recall, letting my eyes drift to a close. I think it had something to do with the Cold Tear I had brought back with me on my latest expedition to the murky undersea depths, along with the legend about mercy: the consequence of such a merciless sacrifice…
Ah what the heck, all the more I shouldn't bother, I contemplate, reflections of the very lesson I had brought back with me swirling through my head. I have better things to do than waste my time on him; he'll get what he deserves, soon enough.
//
Perhaps, it, and the person it brings into question, will one day find its own place of worth in her records. But for now, this insomniatic will sleep; this arbitrary penning jotted down in her mind.
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//A gust blows the clouds away, the moon emerges victorious, brightly shining; a clear resolution.//
Somewhat more cryptical than my usual style I think; just a tad more cryptical, but do let me know if it's not understood. Cookies are there, as always, for the honest peeps who deserve them.
Thank you.
(You have never see CrapPishh this serious in your entire life, have you.)