Why You Should Write! :D

:I I haven't written in a while...well, my excuse  reason, as always, is that I don't have anymore time to keep up with this blog. (You now see the reason why I've abandoned it for three or four years -3-)

Well, basically, I'm just here to re-revive Kid Fort.

SO WE SHALL NOW TALK ABOUT WRITING! :D!

Now I know what most of you are thinking. "You're REALLY gonna talk about writing nao, kidZ? D:"

from the Glee Wikia! WOOO~ i dun own that gif :3

I don't get why reading and writing is so boring for most people. It's like...like...TV in your head! Yeah. TV. :D And the good thing about writing, on the other hand, is it's like directing your own TV show.

Mmkay, I have a feeling that most of you aren't convinced that reading and writing is fun, soooo I'll just give you a few reasons why you should write.

You seem to transform.

Yes, you can transform when you write. You can be a different person everytime, AND most people wouldn't think it was you. Don't believe me? Check this out:

I died today. It didn't come to me as a surprise at all, though. I expected it the moment I saw thee trucks bright headlights flashing at my face.

I looked on as my mom clutched my cold, lifeless body in her arms, weeping. She didn't seem to care getting all that blood over her sweater and jeans. Her child was dead, and that was all that mattered. I almost felt a twinge of regret when I noticed that my mother--the intimidating, fearless, and cruel woman I called Mom--actually cared about me.

:3 You see that? I, the fun-loving, quirky, and careless kidZ just wrote a dark, dreary, and totally professional (in my not-so-humble opinion) story. I just transformed in your very eyes :D BOOYAH

You can disguise your complaints about life.

Big brother annoying you? You annoyed that your favorite animal, le elephant, is going extinct and nobody is doing anything about it? Well, NEVER FEAR, my friend. You can craftily sneak in all your frustrations in a great story.

Let's say you're writing about how boring your dad is. He happens to walk by and read your story...

"Hon, what do you mean I'm such a buzzkill? YOU DON'T LOVE ME?! D:"

"No Dad, I'm writing a story about a girl who finds out she's a mermaid, falls in love with a merman, and must choose between being a human (which means being a homecoming queen) or being mermaid (which means being a REAL queen). Her dad's just an extra."

"Oh...so that wasn't me?"

"Nope. IT WASN'T LIKE I LISTENED TO kidZ'S ADVICE AND TURNED YOU INTO LESLIE'S BORING FATHER BECAUSE YOU'RE LIKE THE FUNNEST AND AWESOMEST DAD IN THE UNIVERSE DAD :D"

"...okay, honeybunches! Good luck with that story!"

"XD Thanks suckeeeeer!"

Here is another part thiiiiing:

I remember one day, when I was in second grade. I found a stray kitten ambling around the sidewalk, mewing to whoever was merciful enough to pick it up and give it a home. "Aww!" I squealed. It faced me, and I saw more of its adorable face. "Mew!"

I guess I felt sorry for the poor guy, because I picked it up, dropped the kitten into my pocket, and casually walked home. Mom never liked animals, and I was pretty sure I'd get a slap for bringing it home.

Sure enough, the moment I opened the door to our apartment, the kitten jumped out. "Mew, mew!" it cried, playfully looking around its surroundings.

"No, don't--!"

My mother walked in and shrieked. "WHAT IS THAT ABOMINATION DOING IN THIS HOUSEHOLD?!!"

Looking away shamefully and stooping down to pick up the kitten, I mumbled, "I'll...I'll bring him back to the streets." The look on the kitten's face almost made me want to cry. It was so sad and so heartbroken that, after months of living in the streets, someone brought him to a home. And now she was bringing him back to those awful streets.

Mom noticed my indecision, stomped to me, and slapped me with such force that I almost dropped the tiny cat. "Bring that feline out of this house NOW, young lady!" she boomed, "Or I'll give you a beating you'll NEVER forget!"

I slunk away, crying. Now we were both sad, the kitten and I. Except the world may never understand why.

:3 That was longer. XD I have this frustration that we couldn't bring stray kittens in our home because they're "dirty" or a "fuss to take care of" sooo yeah...

English would be a breeze!

Having trouble with those vocabulary quizzes your teacher throws at you? 

                                 

If you write, you HAVE to have good vocabulary, otherwise:

a) you won't sound interesting (which is much worse ._.)

b) nobody would understand whut you're talkin' 'bout

You'll be forced to learn new, awesomer words for your stories, then! o3o While that may sound completely boring--and unfair--well, things aren't always fair in life :3 NOW GO GET A DICTIONARY AND LEARN NEW WORDS.

My mother, always so sure of herself, strong and independent, was crying. And that was only because her mediocre, inutile daughter was dead. Irony much? I never thought that I would actually mean something to her.

"S-sam," she stammered in between sobs, getting lukewarm tears and even snot all over my corpse, "I am very, very sorry that I was such an abhorrent mother to you. I was rotten and despicable...oh, I'll never forgive myself for this! I loved you more than anything, Sam! And now you're gone...GONE..."

She continued blubbering, her gorgeous, even majestic, face stained with her tears and all my blood.

This story...is getting so dark... o-o XD

You can change the facts of life.

Face it, even when everyone's telling you that aliens don't exist, your life ends when you die, or your Aunt Marleen's feet smell nice, you can always change that when you write. After all, writing is an expression of who you are; if you want to write about the reason gravity exists is because Merlin the wizard spilled his anti-aging potion all over the floor, pretty much nobody would mind!

"That was a lovely mother you have there."

I turned around to see a beaming angel smiling tenderly at me. He had delicate blue eyes, curly golden hair, and the fluffiest wings which reminded me of doves. The angel wore a simple white linen robe, belted at the waist with white rope.

"Yeah," I muttered. The mutter was a mix of anger, relief, happiness, and depression. I don't know why. "I...I guess I never realized how she felt about me."

"Child, every mother loves her child. Every single one, I guarantee that."

"Uh-huh," I mumbled, biting my lower lip. Great. Now that I've found out that Mom really loves me, I just happened to be dead.

The angel took my hand. "Are you ready to go now, Sam?"

"Where?"

"To heaven, of course. You have been a wonderful child, kind and compassionate despite all the hardships you've suffered. Now, don't you think you'll be given a reward for such an attitude?"

I glanced from the angel to my sobbing mother, back to the angel, back to Mom. Should I go? I wasn't fit for heaven, anyway. But..but..

Probably out of indecision, I said, "Am I ready? I guess not. I...don't know. Sorry."

"There is no harm in admitting that you're not ready, my love."

I could've done a number of things: protest, cry, walk over to my mom and give her a sympathetic ghost pat...but I didn't do any of those. For some reason, I was...smiling.

"Sorry, angel. I think I'll hang out in here and make sure Mom doesn't start drinking again," I grinned, sitting down on the soft, dewy grass.

Total cheesiness -3- I told you I change when I write!

It is just so...

DANG FUN. D:

Nuff said :3

Now, if that didn't convince you to start writing, well, that (means you're hopeless) is okay. Everyone has their personal preferences. ;)

Well then, ktnxbai. PEACE OUT! :D