Shut Up And Write Novels & Stories

You deleted the apps for a reason. • One episode of trash TV max per day. Not six. • Meditate or breathe or whatever rich people do to calm down. CREATIVE TIME • Write privately for at least one hour daily. • No publishing. No sharing. This is just for you. • Try poetry again. You’ve been avoiding it. BODY / MOVEMENT (DON’T ARGUE WITH ME) • yoga videos (links attached). • Light stretching morning and night. • Short strength workouts twice a week. No heroics.

“Over and yes im ready over” “Good now shut up and get on with it, we go in 10..9..8..7..6..5..4..3..2..1…” ‘Boooooooom’

"Write back. Tell them exactly why you would never work for them. What they do is evil. What you do is healing. And there is no amount of money that changes that fundamental truth." "That feels dangerous. Like engaging gives them power." "No. Silence gives them power. Silence lets them believe they might have swayed you. That the offer planted doubt. Responding with clarity removes that power. Shows them you are absolutely certain of your path." I thought about it all day. By evening I had decided. I would write back. But not the way they expected. I sat down with paper and pen. Wrote carefully. *To V.K. and whoever else reads this,*

One earbud hung loose. "We should sleep soon," she whispered. "Soon," he said, scrolling through one final clip. "But not yet. There's still this. She looked at him, then at the long line of notes, circles, and side-phrases on the open pages. “We don’t write Clauses because we’re certain,” she said after a pause. He didn’t look up. “We write them beca we’re listening.” She slipped the pen from behind her ear and drew a line beneath the day’s final clause.

She had written one word. Go. "I told him I was sick." She wrote: You are the least sick person I have ever met. "I need more time." You have had three weeks and four days of absence and a slap and a non-apology and an east room. She paused, then wrote: How much time does stubborn require? I looked at her. She looked back with the patient, complete attention of someone who had been mute for four years and had learned to say more with silence than most people said with everything.

"Just let me send this off." "Did you start writing again?" Amoy inquired. "Nope." "Why not?" "I still haven't figured out what I want to write, and I honestly don't see the point if I can't share it with the world." She sighed closing her laptop before facing him. "Don't write for others, write for yourself, maybe one day you'll share it with the world. I'm sorry about my aunt again." He shook his head brushing off her apology as she got up from her chair, standing in front of him, eyes filled with sincerity.

That single, hollow sentence: Hope you’re well. It had felt like a knife disguised as politeness. “I don’t know how to let it go,” I admitted. “Every time I think I’ve moved on, something drags me back.” “Let it out,” she said simply. I glanced up. “You’re a writer,” she said. “Write it out. Every ugly thing. Every word you wish you’d said. Every thought you’re ashamed of. Get it out of you.” I stared at her. “That sounds… healthy. And also kind of violent.”

She shook he⁠r hea⁠d. ‌ “I forgot‌ this existed.” At the top— one s‍entence. ‌ Write someth‍ing you hope becomes true. Sh‍e reme⁠mbered. Barely. ‌Som‍e therapist. ⁠Some exercis⁠e. W⁠r⁠ite th⁠ing‌s you want. Put th‍em awa⁠y. ⁠Look later. She started reading quietly. I hope Noah feel⁠s safe.

it was beautiful and peaceful settling myself down i started playing my guitar and started singing along . . do you wanna give up just cuz it's hard? nothing is free in this damn freaking world. either you eat or get eaten so get a grip and stand back up what you think is E,N,D is actually A,N,D . . writing songs is one of my hobby. it helps me pour out my thoughts and feelings which calms me suddenly i heard a twitch as if someone had stepped on dry brach i quickly sat up as i didn't want to meet anyone

It was the furthest she could go from them. He drew up alongside her. He wrapped his arms around her. "Hey," he exclaimed. "Pay attention to me." "No. You've made your point." "That's not quite right. Not until I apologize." "What is it about the word 'shut up' that you don't get? Your apology is uninteresting to me." "I'm also terrible at taking commands. Also, I'm the last person in the world who should be commenting on messed-up relationships." His jaw scraped lightly across her flesh as he nuzzled the side of her neck. "Would you forgive me?"