Narrate yourself!

Post Reply New Topic

"Hello!"

Zodai flew over the planet in a bycicle.

"This is the narrate yourself thread! Feel free to speak in third person as much as you like!"

"I can't stop procrastinating!" exclaimed findyourwayhome.

"I concur!" The last few pages of the book remained unwritten.

Meridian191 repositioned himself on the bed and began tapping out his latest Wrongplanet post. The only sound was the laptop's fan whirring and the clickity-click of Meridian191's keystrokes. It was 11:31 PM in Australia, and he was tempted to check what time it was in the States, where he figured the bulk of his audience would likely come from.

Ten then got bored again, and checked out what was going on in the WPiverse. "Oh good!" said Ten, "more new people to welcome!"
Ten then started thinking about the events of earlier today, and cast his eyes around the computer room before returning them to the laptop screen. At which point, the Narrate yourself! thread was spotted, and Ten started writing a message. It read:

Oh wait.

Jess was on her Nanna's slow computer yet again, waiting for her friend on another site to come and talk to her. She'd had to do somehting in Pe she hadn't wanted to do because it reminded her of her online friend, but she'd done it better than she had last time she had to do it.

So anyway, Jess was looking for places to post on WP because she thought she hadn't been posting enough there. (Her Nana's slow computer added to the restrictions). She decided to go to the games forum for a bit of fun.

Daydreamer84 scratched at her itchy scalp and picked white flakes of dandruff from it. She had promised herself she wasn't going to do this any more. It only made her more itchy , it only made things worse. "Stop it right now" she silently commanded herself. She quickly moved her hands away from her head and on to the keyboard in front of her. She sat frozen for a moment and listened to the hum of the computer fan on her laptop. She clicked on the "narrate yourself" thread of the games forum she had been browsing. She wondered what she should write about and absent-mindedly began scratching at her scalp again....

Fywh finished the last of his classes today, and is on a week break. "Yay," he thinks to himself, "a whole week of video games!" Little does he know, trouble awaits him around the corner. "Wait, what trouble?" he thinks, but it will strike him when he least expects it.

OMG
I hit the post reply reply intentionallally becaucause I am wound up about this pm I got that is stressing me out!
UF I reoly I might get involuted
If I don't re[ply I might get revoluted
Thinking the internetz sux at teh moment

the_beautiful_mess was exhausted. The end of term (or semester, as she realised Americans would call it) had come, and it was the Easter Holidays (Spring Break in American speak).

She was missing her sister. She had seen her the previous Friday, but that had been the first time since January. She wanted to go for a walk with her, and talk about everything they normally did, which was, incidentally, almost everything.

Her brothers were around. John, the elder, had been relatively uninteresting of late, focusing intensely on something to do with his A-Levels, and unwilling to do much that was fun. Matty, the younger, was continuing to be his lively, noisy, and often annoying ten-year-old self. the_beautiful_mess loved him, she really did, but he was so intense and loud all the time, and he had a tendency to lose his temper.

Nothing seemed to be happening. She had work she could do: RS and an English poetry analysis essay that should have been handed in two days before. She wouldn't do it though. She could never work at home. It was the wrong environment. She could write. She was trying to complete a novel, and ignored the ridicule this garnered from her best friend, Grey. He was funny and passionate and adventurous, but he thought she was wasting her time. He told her she was good, and he meant it, but that nobody cared about what some teenage girl had to write about. She would smile wanly, but she was determined. She had what it took. She knew it. She just knew. She was determined and she was unique, and she had the talent to make her dream happen.

Mindsigh was feeling sick and dizzy from the termite spray in the hallway but she couldn't go home. She had no car.

Jess refreshed the pages she was on again while finding places in WP to post. She had been more successul in this than recently.

Parasol was sitting in front of her laptop. She was also drawing an oracle on her sketchbook because she liked drawing when she was bored. It was spring break which she liked because she hated homework and school. Her mother was in another room, putting makeup on because Parasol and her mom were going out today. She liked being around her mother. Parasol's English homework was finished which she had to get her mom to help her on. The only sounds that were being made was the computer hum, the sounds in the bathroom, Parasol's breathing and the wind chimes outside. Parasol decided to go on WP because she wanted to. She reminded herself that she needed to ask her dad when he gets back from work about watching a movie later.

The sound of the keyboard clacking breaks the stillness of the... mid-sentence a pingle pingle buzz shakes the cell sitting on the desk. Looking over a pop-up appears on the desktop, "Okay sure. I'll talk to you later perhaps. Right now I need to focus. Ttyl" Its set then, tonight might be open to possibility. Socializing is a strange beast, craven but most often a study in contradictory aloofness. Something to look forward towards.

Dazzlious' eyes wonder to the right of the monitor, "right, work..." says her inner monologue.

Should new folks be invited out? Should it be a night of spontaneous dancing? Where can we go? What can we do? The inner monologue interjects again, "Stop thinking about meeting women." Yes, LGBTQ friends would make pairing up Friday night with meeting new people easier but our friends, you can't find people like that just anywhere. Damn perseverations.

The call of the mundane is heard waking up in the next room. The laundry needs doing again. We need to shower. Click-clack, click-clack the fingers narrate the inaction.

A pop-up appears on the screen again, "leave me as a maybe..." Well, heart-straining reality is hard not to take personal.

Perhaps a plan will develop under the rejuvenation from the falling water. There are a few options.

Minim finished catching up with her daily sites, and had decided to move on to her usual sites. She had been slightly upset at the beginning of the week but now was reconciled to spending the weekend at base home rather than weekend home. This meant she was now on her shiny Windows 7 netbook rather than her new but bothersome Windows 8 desktop. It was nice to have these things, she pondered, wondering also about the car that she had heard outside. Was it her mother, who was going to be late back today? She'd have had to take a taxi.

The only other life force in the room apart from Minim was Minim's brother's cat, Miffin. Minim could hear the jingling of the name tag on Miffin's collar. It reminded her of the fire drill they'd had at college earlier in the day. Blimey it was loud. And crowded. Everything you didn't want when you were an all-but-diagnosed Aspie. And even then it wasn't as bad as at high school. Although what she could vaguely remember of primary school didn't seem too bad.

She heard her mother's voice outside.

ArtificialLynn was reading members' posts on this thread called "Narrate yourself!", then she started to type because she had nothing better to do... Other than trying to figure out how to eat this dumpling-onigri hybrid meal that her mother made. She wasn't sure if she was suppose to use chopsticks, a fork, a spoon, or her hands.