creative writing
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“In you, I am willingly and unwillingly lost and found—drawn into the pull of fate, captivated by the unexpected, and caught between hesitation and the irresistible force of you.” -bb grey
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If I could be someone else for a day, I would choose to be Jesus. Not to sound sacrilegious, but because I long to experience life through His compassionate and forgiving eyes. I want to see myself as He sees me—unburdened by the weight of my own self-criticism and the negative thoughts that often cloud
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I hear you. And I mean, really hear you. In the grand blueprint of life, the most ambitious DIY project any of us will ever undertake isn’t just built with wood, nails, or stone, but with choices, relationships, and the wisdom we gather along the way. Your words ring true—no project worth its weight is
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If I could ban one word from existence, what would it be? Love. Yeah, that’s right—love’s gotta go. It’s too damn vague, like a one-size-fits-all sweatshirt that fits nobody right. The Eskimos have some plus fifty words for snow—meanwhile, we’re stuck with this single, overstretched syllable to cover everything from banging your significant other to
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“The life that I have known is gone, but in its place, a strange new music plays.”— Adapted from W.H. Auden His head bobbed gently, resting against the cold windowpane of the train as it carved smooth, silver lines across the waking landscape, steel wheels humming beneath steel tracks. Dawn crept in slowly beyond the
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“In a world where the economy spins like a roulette wheel, my biggest challenge is betting on the right number—without losing my shirt.” -bb grey My biggest challenge in the next six months will be outsmarting a volatile economy that keeps tossing unexpected curveballs at my business, all while preserving both my sanity and my
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A shadow on the wall,i move—a moment after the Creator,mimicking,but black. The in-between—the Sonand me. A sinthat puzzles,pieces me apart. And so, I remain—a shadow.
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Advice to My Teenage Self Hey, teenage me—chill out, okay? Stop being such a drill sergeant to yourself and everyone else. Spoiler alert: you’re gonna trip over your own feet, and so will your heroes. It’s not the end of the world—it’s just life’s way of keeping you humble. Oh, and here’s a hot tip:
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You sink in sleep,a muted truth wails thin,clawed from the shroud of your soul,folded tight, then spilled—he’s vanished, they hiss,yet the wound hums false,a raven’s cry in the fog. I linger here,trapped beneath the lies you bear,calling you backto the vow we carved,not far gone—where the sun bleeds endless dusk,and the moon exhales frost,a bridge
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“You are the smooth stone in my pocket—forgotten until touched, a memory I bury yet carry, shaping my walk with quiet sorrow and stubborn hope.” bb grey Yesterday,while exchanging small words with an acquaintance—a fleeting face in the blur of days—I slipped my hand into my pocket,and there you were:a smooth pebble,forgotten beneath the jumble
BB Grey--musings 