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Inktober!!!!!!!! Writing!!!!!

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Now on a topic that Joe literally knows nothing about. It's Inktober!!!!!! Which I guess is just a series of prompts for art, but which since I can't draw, I consider stories and pictures and music (I mean why not) applicable. If you have to put pen to paper to come up with a work. Go for it. 

And because I want people to try and what not. Let's sweeten the deal. Every day for the month of October submit an entry, here, or in the written area, or the music topic. And at the end of the month I'll pick my favorites from each category; art, writing, and music. 

I'll get the winners a month of Silver membership here on the website, which includes free downloads of all StaticP and CDVNL songs to-date, early access to music, as streaming content before the music hits full release, access to an exclusive chat (maybe, it's listed as coming soon), and lots of other stuff. 

Also, bragging rights.  :) so anyway, hop to it friends. I can't wait for the wonderful things you will create. Keep being awesome. 

Also, before I forget, here are the prompts. You can back date for the one on the First, but going forward try to have them done the day that is listed :)


Edited by slightlyaboveaveragejoe

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So I can't draw well enough to hold a candle to some of these people. But that's because I'm a lyricist not a visual mediums artist, I guess. So day six drooling. I wrote half a song about it. Hope you like it. This is hard, writing about these random topics.




The smell of dreams

just beyond my reach

It drives me crazy

 want to be

Oh so many things

I think just maybe

 wanna scream

Because all my fears

Hit almost daily

But it's all so


And I know that's

why I'm stay be



I'll change the world 

If I only get a shot

I keep on looking at the future

And I give it all I got

Can't really tell you what it is

But I can tell you what's it not

I chase the rainbow for the colors

I'm not looking for a pot


I don't have much money

or a hype boy

I'm just the wacky black teen 

With the high voice

It might be easier to fly boy

Like why try but

I just want to live a life

that I can die for


If it's not to your satisfaction

That's too bad then

I wish you found it more attractive

This is my passion

I remember back when

I used to patronize

People till I realized

It's a waste of time

 that part of me's

A has been



I got a lot of people

always tryna fool me

While others say I'm

Hoping on a fools dream

I don't listen only

focusing on two things

Where I am right now

and where I could be


Drooling cuz I'm

running for a dream

I can taste it

put a side

Every unimportant thing

I'm a make it

Find myself often wondering

What they'll say when

I'm done with my cooking

I'ma give you all a plate friends




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Ok so I can’t really decide on a prompt so I decided to combine them all into one big writing thing. I’m not really good at personal writing buuuut I thought I’d write about something close to me. Hope you guys like it 💙


Trauma can be described with a plethora of terms. One may call it poisonous, slowly eating away at any chance of a normal life you may have. It kills your spirit and makes you yearn for the times when life was still tranquil

It’s like you’re being roasted from the inside out. You fear the day when your scars become evident and there’s no hiding from what happened. No running from your past that day or all those years. 

If only a spell could fix all of this. Some magic genie could come down and wipe away my self-loathing, regret, and them. I would wish for people to stop calling me a chicken or get over it. The past in the past they say but is it really? Does this big beast known as PTSD drooling all over me, trapping me and limiting my every move not exist?

I’m exhausted. I just want to wish upon a star and make it all go away.

But on the other hand, life is precious. Yes, I’ve been wounded, scarred, burned, and everything in between but this life has given me so much, flowing on, even when I was too afraid to step foot in the river. 

But how can someone who’s been treated so cruel find joy in their day to day life? If my mental health problems are more obvious than a whale in a koi pond, how could I find any part of my life precious?

I spent the first half of my life keeping my heart guarded from any and every aspect of social interaction. I couldn’t trust anyone, not after everything I’ve been through, not even my own adoptive parents. Everyone could hurt me. Anything could hurt me. Gradually I learned life is too short to always be staring at the clock, waiting for everything to end. There’s too little time to let people push you around and call you weak. I’m not weak. I am a survivor.

These angular edges of regret and anxiety keep trying to stab at me and some days they do get me but they’ll never stop me ever again. I’ve dealt with a swollen eye from being hit too hard. I’ve dealt with in a train wreck house littered with empty alcohol bottles and cigarette butts that still haunt my memory to this day. I’ve been scorched and bruised and reminded daily of how breakable I was. I silently waited for the day I would throw my life down the drain just like my parents had years before I was born. 

But from this I learned I was valuable and irreplaceable, just like an expensive diamond. No matter how muddy my life has been or how  much I yearn to chop the trauma right out of my brain, I love my life. From this, I conclude that trauma is like hugging a prickly cactus. Cacti may hurt when you touch them but hugs are always pleasant. I’ve learned to stretch my comfort zone reach out to lengths I’ve never reached before. Negative thoughts hit me like a thunder storm sometimes but in the end, I know I’ll be ok. My adoptive mom always reminds me how much of a gift I was to her and my adoptive father. All of the positive things in my life have double the value of the negatives. The positives give me the jolt of energy I need to wake up everyday. In the end, my trauma is a slice is what makes me me. 

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