nonfiction

Remember, nothing happens before it__ supposed to, so trust that, as you are striving for authenticity and personal excellence, the recognition of your life__ purpose is nearing closer.

We live in a world where there is such a clear definition of what a girl should be that it takes almost no effort at all to completely hate ourselves.

Recognize that you have been chosen to be alive, right now, at this exact moment in time and know that none of that is random. There is something about you, your past or your future that is required at this exact moment in history. We need to know who you are and what you have been through.

I think it all basically breaks down to something like this: You have to look and feel great first. If you eat well, exercise and get enough sleep, you will have ample energy and the proper self-confidence to create and produce beyond your wildest dreams! Looking great and radiating positive energy, while presenting your highest quality work, is what will always make you the most valuable and only logical choice in whatever it is that you reach for.

The only way that you can identify and then fulfill your life__ purpose is for you to love yourself, charge up your life and serve the world.

Fiction is entertaining. Nonfiction is epic.

Sometimes I'll pick up the "heart of the jungle" fossil on my bookshelf, or pull out my old field notebooks from my desk drawer, warped by Amazonian rains and the river's steam, the scent of the jungle still on their pages. I do this to remind myself that fiction does not have a monopoly on the unbelievable.

Writing fiction is fun. Writing non-fiction is life-changing.

great literature is literature that speaks to deep, fundamental human truths and experience in a way that is relatable to the reader and that may provoke engagement or facilitate insight into these truths and experiences. If these truths and experiences are about breaches of the normal, then surely horror has a place in literature, and in facts may proffer deep engagement with the most profound aspects of our existence. Sometimes only horror can say what needs to be said.

Despite how lonely or broken down you might feel, we need you with us helping to make the world better, kinder and safer, especially for the little girls coming up.

Thanks to the nation's testing mania (which I like to call 'No Child Left Untested' rather than 'No Child Left Behind'), children are being barraged with a nonstop volley of standardized tests. From kindergarten to graduate school, students are subjected to an unprecedented number of high-stakes tests

He tilted my chin up and I swear those lips are magic. Witchcraft. Sorcery. Whatever it is in those lips, it__ addictive. Unassailable. I had to have more. More of this feeling of being wanted.

I__e never been with a boy who hasn__ seen me naked. It__ always the squeaky futon, bear-it-all, turn-off-the-lights quickstep. Don__ chalk it up to __addy issues.__aybe I__ sick of keeping private parts private. I don__ want rainwater secrets on my lips, tasting of __on__ make too much noise_. October__ dust in my lungs, maybe I don__ want bits of four AM lingering in my subconscious. Smokers breathe in fire, coat their insides in ash. Is that suicide or arson? Listen to me, listen to me. I__ alive. I__ ALIVE.I__ naked and bruised, but I__ alive. I__ not a piece of fruit. Don__ press into my flesh, looking for soft spots. My whole body is tender and rotten, but I__ alive.I__ alive and just because you can see it all, doesn__ mean you know it all

I drank from the crisp mountain stream, tasting filtered sky with a mossy undertone. I__e never understood how being loved fully could change your entire perspective of the world. I only ever understood the wistfulness of it, and the longing and the frothy, violent bits. The mixed up, rained on parts. The escaped bits that smudge and bleed through. Slowly, I am coming to terms with how vulnerable I am to you, flat on my back like a submissive wolf pup. Daisy petals line your eyelashes, juice of a nectarine flavors your tongue. The side of your mouth twitches, hazy dreamscapes overtaking your mind while we bathe in the glorious autumn devastation.

highway wildflowers swaying like the ocean. queen anne__ lace like doilies for a tea party never attended. this is a conversation between two parts of yourself. the fever will break soon, but until then i__l be untangling you from the knots in my windblown hair. i smell like a wet forest, like long grass covered in sequins. i called your name but was drowned out by the thunder. i remember you murmuring, __lease,_ while you took my shirt off. i remember you and the airy __lease_ when you pulled me toward you by my legs. i remember __leeease_ while i learned how to let go. i remember your divine __lease._ chanting it as if it__ draw a demon out of hiding. __lease, please, please._ and i screamed, __es.

holy, holy, holy dawn. my hips rocking into your face. the edge inviting. your name like dry wine on my tongue. your name branded into my inner thigh.

he walks into the bedroom like he owns it. says, __ wanna be filthy with you._ takes me down hungry. helps me shed my skin. cafuné. he looked at me like i wasn__ something ruined. filled my vicious parts with gold. touched me with too much yearning. he said, ____ burn for you._ how can he not see we__e the creators of the fire? he growled, __oan for me._ the wolf bit down and i howled into the night.

The story you are about to read is a work of fiction. Nothing - and everything - about it is real.