Pandora Stories

I had a BRILLIANT writing prompt idea today while listening  to Pandora today. Random music comes out of it, and you write a story for as long as it takes for the song to finish. Related, of course, to the song. I paused it for a little while after the first verse/ right before the chorus which might have been cheating but since i made up the rules it isn't. All of you, try this out and post it on you blog. It's actually pretty cool.

I started with my favorite station- 21 Guns Radio. Seriously, it's the best. 

Wake Me Up When September Ends- Greenday- Bullet in a Bible

This one isn't worth typing it's only like  6 sentences long.


Me Against the World- Simple Plan- Still Not Getting Any...

I lie. I lie to my parents. I tell them that I meet people at the movies u go to alone. I lie about things like that. Because what parent wants to know that their youngest son goes to movies ALONE? It's not right.
But actually, maybe they would be okay with it if I explain where I'm going from here.
Hey, maybe I would be okay with it if I knew where I was going from here.
Sometimes I feel like I am the only one who notices, who exists. Sometime I will realize that everyone feels like that at some point. But now, it's just me against everyone else. Against the world.


At this point I switched stations because I got two bad songs/songs I couldn't write for. (trust me) 

Boys Like Girls Radio (my second favorite.)


Dance Hall Drug- Boys Like Girls- Boys Like Girls

Someone, somewhere screamed "happy birthday, Ananda!" and the crowd swaying let out a murmur, showing that they had had no idea prior to this as to who they were there for. To them, it was just another party. By now they had forgotten who has invited them and some weren't sure that they had ever been invited in the first place. They continued swaying.


Everything Is Alright- motion City Soundtrack- Commit This To Memory

"Tell me you're alright," my parents scream in my general direction. "Please, let her be alright." I want to reassure them that everything is fine, but I can't. Not because it isn't true, but because my mouth isn't currently available. As is the rest of my body. Maybe everything isn't alright, now that I think about it.

I'm getting tired of having one sided (from his side) conversations with my doctor about my "condition." I'm getting tired of staring at the same patch of ceiling everyday.
I am getting better- soon everything WILL be alright. As soon as I can start moving. Or at least communicating that I would like to look at something other than that same patch of light gray ceiling. When I pull out of this "condition," which I will, I will spend hours complaining about how well I know that patch of ceiling. I will concentrate all of my efforts on yelling at whoever didn't make my view interesting.
I will concentrate on anything to distract me from the real problem.



Don't ask me to explain them, I don't get them either. I don't think they make any sense at all and don't even know where they came from. Isn't writing great like that?