#1
Ok, so I wrote this last night sometime around 4am. It's a letter written as if to my ex. Please, if you're gonna comment, don't be a dick about it. I'm looking for critique on style and flow.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Two Hours til Dawn

Well, two hours and twenty-three minutes to be exact. This isn’t the first time I’ve lost sleep over you, but hopefully it’s the last. It’s funny, before tonight I hadn’t had a single nostalgic thought about you…well, I guess nostalgic isn’t the right word. I’ve never been good at finding the right word when it comes to you.

When I look back on all that happened between you and I, I realize that I always knew that you never loved me. I just never wanted to admit it, so I somehow managed to trick myself into believing that you really did care for me like that. I was always just a toy to you, something fun to play with while you were fighting with your current love-interest. I was just so damn desperate for love that I ignored the truth.

You know, I guess what got me started on this train of thought was realizing that I'm no longer able to cry. The other day I was reading this book, and I came upon the most beautiful section of written word that I've ever come across in my life. Any attempt at describing the emotion that I felt upon reading those words would be blasphemy against my soul. I wanted so desperately to cry upon reading it. Not because it was sad or depressing in any way, but because it was so indescribably beatiful. I wanted to weep, regardless of where I was or who could have been nearby to see me. But I couldn't. For the thousandth time I couldn't cry when I wanted to, when I needed to. I felt the beginning coming on, but where the crest of my emotion should've contained tears, there was nothing but emptiness. It's the worst feeling in the world.

I never really cried that often before I met you. Then you started destroying me, systematically weakening and breaking every bit of my being until the only thing left were little bits of fog and fluff. Over and over again it happened. I'd call you, you'd kill me, I'd cry. Then you'd have the audacity to tell me that my tears turned you on. So you'd try to get me horny, and do what you always do when faced with a problem that you started: things would turn to sex. Even from the very first time that it happened, I knew you were lying to me. I knew that you were just finding something that would distract me from the hell you had just put me in, at least for long enough for you to have some fun with it, and then hang up. But hey, a distraction is a distraction, right? So I'd play along, and I'd push back the pain for another 30 minutes or so. You would hang up and go to sleep, I would crying again. It was like clockwork.

Then you finally came out and admitted the truth. You didn't love me. It didn't really change anything, but it did give me an excuse to let out everything that I had kept inside all that time. In a way, I guess that was nice. At least you were being honest for once.

You were constantly apologizing. About this, about that...but mainly about all the guys you ****ed around with. I think "sorry" was the word I heard most often escape your lips, to the point that sorry lost any meaning to you. I understand. It lost it's meaning to me as well. But no matter how much you apologized, you always maintained that you never actually had sex with any of them. You'd do everything in the book, but you wouldn't actually have sex. I guess that was your way of maintaining some shred of dignity. You were still a virgin. I've gotta tell you, you lost your virginity a long time ago. "Virgin" implies innocence. If there is one thing that you aren't, it's innocent.

I stopped talking to you a while back, and that isn't going to change because of this letter. I just felt like I had some unresolved issues that I needed to get off my chest. And if there's just one thing that you take away from this (that is, if you even read this), know that because of you, I can't cry anymore. You have taken from me a way of expressing myself that is fundamental to human nature. There is a vast chasm in my being where the ability to shed tears once resided. I can't cry. I can't cry. I CAN'T CRY. God, I read that, and it makes me want to bawl like a baby. It's so terribly ironic. I've lost count of how many times I've screamed that in the dark. Well, I guess I can go to bed now. Forty-seven minutes to go.

Love Always,
Ryan.

©2007 musicianamedave
Thus sayeth the Lord.

<//////>~
Last edited by musicianamedave at Jan 22, 2007,
#3
Quote by ChptOfDarkness
hmm. this has meaning. i suggest taking this one as a slower ballady song and throwing a decent solo somewhere


Yeah, I'm considering composing some music for this and recording it as a kinda spoken word to music kinda thing. I just haven't gotten around to it yet...and probably won't for some time (damn college).
Thus sayeth the Lord.

<//////>~
#4
This is actually pretty good stuff. I agree that writing this into a ballad would be pretty cool.

There's points where the person seems completely calm, and points were he's totally infuriated. Those emotions might be good to play around with, especially if you've got an acoustic lying around.

Good solid stuff if you ask me.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE
#5
Thanks. Yeah, I do have an acoustic lying around...but it hasn't been played in like 3 months, and needs to be re-strung.
Thus sayeth the Lord.

<//////>~
#6
That'd sound really good, if you could get the acoustic restrung.

An acoustic strumming out the slow, calm parts, creating an air of tranquilness, and then, the electric comes in and slams the song into another dimension.

And before your listeners have time to breathe, switch back to soft calmness.

And etc, etc.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE
#7
Quote by MusicalMinority
That'd sound really good, if you could get the acoustic restrung.

An acoustic strumming out the slow, calm parts, creating an air of tranquilness, and then, the electric comes in and slams the song into another dimension.

And before your listeners have time to breathe, switch back to soft calmness.

And etc, etc.


Thanks for the ideas.

Edit: I've been in the Pit for too long. I expected a bunch of replies consisting of "buttsecks?" or "lol fag."
Thus sayeth the Lord.

<//////>~
#8
Well, unlike a lot of other people on this forum, *coughcough* I respect many genres and thought trains. If I don't like something, I'll be respectful about it, and I'll try and be as helpful as possible to fix it.

Kids these days... Disrespectful, most of them.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE
#9
wow. that was beautiful. very well written and you can actually feel the emotions that you instilled on the prose as I was reading it. good job dude
Originally posted by Knife2aGunFight
We're all different, we have different tastes. People hate people that are different, these people are racist. Racist against the scene. Scensist.....Sceneracist,........ Rascenesist.