Why Do We Dance in the Rain?

Answering life’s most impossible questions through the power of storytelling.

Millions of years ago, when mankind was no longer new but still relatively young, there was born to this world a girl. She was no different from any of the other girls born at the time. Sure, she had her own unique attributes, but she didn’t particularly stand out in a crowd. She was just a normal girl, with a normal family and normal friends. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Now, by this point in history, magic still existed in the world. However, the magic was a commonality in everyday life, and so was generally ignored and forgotten. This usually wasn’t much of an issue, as most of the magical things were happy to just be with their own kind. Or, if they were the only of their kind, they were happy to watch the world as it grew and breathed and lived.

The girl knew nothing of this. Why would she? She was just a normal girl, after all. If no one else knew, why would she?

Of course, as I’m sure you’ve already guessed, the girl did eventually learn of such things. The day she learned of such things was not a particularly special day. Just as any other day, the girl woke up in the morning a little after sunrise and hurried downstairs to begin her chores (because, back then, the entire day was spent doing chores). I would go through her list of chores, but it was a rather long list and I’m sure you don’t actually care about such details. So, just know she had already done quite a bit before the afternoon came, at which point she set out to gather herbs.

The girl wasn’t particularly excited to gather herbs, as it was a rather rainy day, but she knew better than to complain and was on her way in no time. The rain quickly soaked through her clothes, and before she even reached the woods where the herbs could be found, she was fed up. And after two hours of it not letting up, she found herself glaring at the sky.

“Would you please just stop?” She yelled into the rain. “I’m trying to do my chores, and you’re making my life very difficult!”

She, of course, didn’t expect the sky to respond, and she thought she was losing her mind when she heard a rumbling voice murmur, “I’m sorry, dear girl, I’m just so sad.”

The girl dropped her basket of herbs (which she would regret later when her mother yelled at her for it) and stared at the still-stormy sky. “Did… Did the sky just talk to me?”

A burst of wind blew into her, almost as if the sky had just huffed in annoyance. “Excuse me, I’m not the sky. I’m just Sky, with a capital S, thank you very much.”

The girl continued to stare at the sky—sorry, Sky—for a few moments before stammering out the first thing that came to mind, which just so happened to be, “Why are you sad?”

The girl heard a soft rumbling that she thought could be a laugh. “How could I not be sad? Every day, I watch the life that exists on the world below. It’s beautiful, really. I can see everything from up here: Every birth, every success, every smile. And though I never meet any of you down there, I still find myself loving each and every one of you, and everything that makes each of you different.”

Sky paused, and when the pause became too long, the girl asked, “So why are you sad? That seems like a wonderful existence.”

Again, the girl heard the soft rumbling of a laugh. “It would be. But I don’t just see the things that bring you joy. I also see your pain and fears and misery. I see you suffer, see your tears. And I’ve watched as each and every one of you eventually dies. It brings me such great pain to see any of you upset, but that pain is nothing compared to how I feel when one of you leaves this world.”

The rain came down harder and when lightning flashed, the girl recognized it as Sky lashing out in anger. And when thunder rumbled in the distance, the girl recognized it as a sob.

The girl swallowed down the sudden tightness in her throat. “I’m sorry,” she eventually stuttered out. “Is there any way… I mean, is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

There was a moment of silence, then, “I really don’t know. No one has ever asked me that before…” Sky trailed off, but the rain seemed to lighten ever so slightly.

The girl pondered this for a moment. “Well…” she began, “Is there anything that we humans do that brings you joy? Anything in particular?”

Another moment of silence, then, “Well… I always enjoy watching you humans dance.” The girl was surrounded by a soft rumbling of laughter. “The way you all move in time with your music, how your faces light up, your laughter reaching all the way up to my ears…”

The girl didn’t let herself think about how terrible of a dancer she was, or how she had eventually given up on dancing and just learned how to play an instrument instead. She didn’t let herself debate how she’d never been the best instrumentalist either. The girl didn’t think about any of this as she took a deep breath and started hopping around.

“What are you doing?” Sky asked in surprise.

“Dancing!” The girl called up in the middle of what was supposed to be a leap but was really just flailing. “To cheer you up!”

There was only a second of silence before Sky shook with its laughter. The girl grinned and continued her manic movements. It was difficult dancing without music, but after a bit, she realized that she did, in fact, have music. Every sound of life and movement in the world around her was music, and she danced along to its beat.

The girl only stopped when she realized the rain had let up. She blinked and looked around at the dripping trees, then looked up at Sky.

“Do you feel better now?” She asked.

“Yes,” Sky said in the whispery voice of the wind. “Thank you.”

The girl grinned. “No problem! Any time you feel sad, all of us down here will be happy to make you happy again!”

Sky chuckled, and the sound moved like a comforting wind. “You should be off. Your family is waiting for you to return.”

The girl gasped. “Oh! That’s right!” She took off running but skidded to a stop after just a few paces. The girl turned to look at Sky and waved. “I’ll talk with you again later!” She called up.

“I look forward to it,” Sky said, and the girl was off.

The girl ended up telling everyone of the tale, and from that day on, whenever it rained, they would all join together and dance in it so that Sky would be happy once again.


50 Original and Entertaining Writing Prompts

Fun, crazy, entertaining and completely original writing prompts that I’ve created for your writing needs!

Are you looking for some original writing prompts, but can’t seem to find them anywhere? Have you scoured the Internet for a prompt that actually inspires some thought, to no avail?

Well, do I have the list for you!

All of the prompts on this list, I’ve come up with myself! They’re all entirely original, created straight from my mind. Unless somebody decides to copy them (in which case they’d need to cite/link to this page), you won’t find them anywhere else!

I’ve done my best to make them crazy, entertaining, and fun, so I suggest having fun and being crazy when writing based on them. And whatever it turns into, just keep going. You never know, it could turn into an amazing original story! Or an amazing poem. Or and amazing flash fiction. Or an amazing… Something else. This list isn’t specified to any one form of writing. Write whatever you please!

So there a two main ways to do this:

  • One is to read through these and choose one that you think you can write off of.
  • The other is to pick a random number (or have a friend give you a random number) between 1 and 50, then write based on the prompt that corresponds with that number.

Both ways work fine, but I would suggest the second way. It’s the random option, and forcing yourself to write based on a random prompt can turn into a pretty entertaining piece. It may not be good, but you can always revise it later.

Remember: You don’t have to stick to the prompt. If you deviate from it, it’s totally okay. Just keep writing what wants to be written.

Also, though the majority of these prompts say you’re the one affected, you can write from any person (first, second, or third) and you can always write from a different perspective if you so choose.

Original Writing Prompts

  1. You are a zombie in a zombie apocalypse… And you’re also a vegetarian. Write a piece as this character/from this perspective.
  2. You just discovered that you can talk to fruit. Write a piece based on the conversation and events that come from this.
  3. A comb was randomly found at the scene of a crime, but no one knows how it got there! Tell the comb’s story.
  4. Perry the Platypus just showed up on the door and somehow communicated to you that he needs you for a mission. Write about the awesome adventure that follows.
  5. You know that phrase “pain is beauty?” Well, it might just be real after all. You’ve discovered a pair of heels that literally change the way you look so that whoever looks at you sees the perfect person (in regards to beauty). The real trouble is, the heels are eight inches tall and cut in at all the wrong places. Write a piece with this in mind.
  6. Your best friend just got turned into ice cream… In the middle of summer. Write… Well, you might want to start with how that even happened, but you can start wherever.
  7. Write from the perspective of the (or a piece of) candy in a candy shop. What are their thoughts as they wait to get chosen? Do they want to be eaten? What are their goals and aspirations?
  8. Flying pigs are trying to take over the world and you’ve discovered their plans, but no one will believe you. Tell your story in this instance.
  9. Weird creatures that look like apples are running around and eating people’s pants. Write about everyone’s reactions and the attempts to get rid of the apple creatures.
  10. A socially awkward unicorn appears out if nowhere and needs your help. Write about whatever commences.
  11. You’ve just discovered the Ultimate Burn Book that includes everyone in all of history, and it has the power to take over the world. However, there are some people who will do anything to get their hands on it. Write about what you do with the book and the results of your decision.
  12. Your teacher asks you for your homework, but you don’t have it! But you didn’t just lose it/forget it/throw it away. What happened to it?
  13. The jaguar doesn’t like your shirt, the giraffe ate your blanket, and the rabbits won’t go to sleep! Why did you ever agree to babysit these animals? Discuss this situation.
  14. A griffin shows up and starts eating everything in your house. What the heck, griffin. Write about your… adventure with this annoying griffin.
  15. A sphinx shows up, and it won’t stop telling riddles and eating anyone who answers wrong! Write about your… Adventure with this pesky sphinx.
  16. You’re a vampire, but you’re not a fan of blood. In fact, you’re a vegan. Write from this perspective/as this character.
  17. Somehow, you ended up in Antarctica, and the penguins and polar bears are starting a war over land. What did you do? How did you even get to Antarctica?
  18. Technology is taking over the world. The only way to stop it: Wear clothes from the eighties. Why that’s the only way is totally up to you.
  19. Everyone in the world starts dancing except you, and no one can stop. How will you save the world from endless dancing?
  20. You’re a dentist, and you’ve been asked to do a dental checkup on an elephant. Write about how that goes.
  21. A bunch of giant mutant gummy bears are eating all the chocolate! Write about your fight to stop them!
  22. “George Washington called. He wants his hair died.” You’re a hair stylist, and George Washington shows up at your shop wanting his hair died. Write about how that goes.
  23. You wake up, only to find yourself floating on your mattress in the middle of the Nile river. Not only that, but there are four hungry hungry hippos, and Cleopatra might be on that fancy boat coming towards you.
  24. Your best friend just found a voodoo doll of you. Write about the repercussions (my best friend suggested that they shove a pie in your face without actually touching the pie).
  25. You live in medieval Europe, and your King/Queen just declared war on the neighboring country because they prefer waffles over pancakes. Write from the perspective of the King/Queen’s main advisor.
  26. You’re part of a movie (your choice what movie), but you have no idea what’s going on. No one ever gave you a script! Everyone else knows what’s going on, but they won’t tell you. Write about what happens.
  27. You turn into the last thing you touched. Discuss how this occurence goes.
  28. You’ve discovered a pair of earmuffs that let you read minds. Tell the story of your adventures with these earmuffs.
  29. You’ve discovered an eraser that can erase objects from existence. Decide exactly how this eraser works and discuss your adventures with said eraser.
  30. Area 51 is real… And it’s run by bunnies. You are a photographer who wants to convince the world that they’re aliens. Tell your story.
  31. A random old man drags you into a parody of Wonderland (or Narnia, if you’d rather). Write about your experience.
  32. A moose is eating my shoes! How rude! We should get him some food. Could you?
  33. You’ve died, and you’re going back and forth between Heaven and Hell because no one wants you (sorry!). Describe your experience.
  34. Ants are carrying away your two year old sister to make her their Queen. What do you do?
  35. The Greek gods are drunk, and you have to keep them from destroying the world. Discuss your experience.
  36. Every time you Tweet something, it really happens! But they work like a genie‘s wishes in that your Tweets very rarely turn out the way you expect them to. Write about what you Tweet and the results/repercussions.
  37. You discuss hot dogs and hamburgers with an alien who entered our world through a painting.
  38. You discover clouds really are made of cotton candy, the moon is really made of cheese, and trees are really giant sticks of broccoli. What do you do with this information?
  39. Somehow, a store/shopping mall with all its merchandise still in it becomes your new home. Write about your experience.
  40. You wake up to find a mysterious package sitting on your kitchen table. You open it, and inside is… Van Gogh‘s cut-off ear, hung on a cord. And it just so happens that when you wear the ear, you can hear things that are normally silent. You can hear a rainbow, for example. Write about your experience with the ear.
  41. Every statue in the world comes to life. As in, they can talk and move whatever body parts they have. Write from the perspective of a museum curator.
  42. You work at a tattoo parlor. One day, the Queen of England shows up wanting a tattoo. How does everyone react? What tattoo does she get?
  43. There’s a skeleton in your closet. No, seriously. It’s playing dress-up with your clothes, and it’s asking you if you’ve got any doughnuts.
  44. The Easter Bunny shows up at your front door on Christmas Eve, pleading for your help because Santa‘s eaten too many cookies and can’t move, so he needs you to deliver the gifts. Write about… Whatever becomes of that.
  45. You’re going to be in the Olympics! Only problem? You have no clue how to play the sport you’re competing in, your teammates all speak another language, and you’re playing against monkeys. What could go wrong?
  46. Your favorite character just died, and as a result, the world will literally end (in some crazy way of your choice). Somehow, you have to convince the author/director to bring the character back to life before it’s too late.
  47. Your Grandma’s a drug lord, and she doesn’t even know it. How did you find out, and how will you break the news to her?
  48. The trees whisper to you… And they’ve got a ton of dirty gossip about the other plants, let me tell you! Write about what they tell you, or maybe even make it into a longer story!
  49. Turns out Mr. Snuggles, your favorite teddy bear, is actually a secret agent. Not only that, but you don’t know what side he’s on! You’ll have to find out!
  50. You’re a therapist, and Darth Vader is your newest patient. He needs some parenting advice, among other things. Write about your conversations and how you try to help him.



Sincerely, Hope

Dear World and Everyone In It,
This is who I am.
Accept it.

*Note: I started this blog because of my Creative Writing class in the Spring of 2016. It was an assignment to start and maintain a blog. As a part of this, we had to write and upload certain posts. You’ll recognize them as the posts that seem somewhat out of place.

This was one of those posts. In fact, this was the main assignment for our blogging unit: an “About Me” post. It’s much more difficult than you think. Surprisingly enough, I’m a very uninteresting person with a very bad memory. Not to mention, not many events in my life were very noteworthy, and I didn’t want my post to be all about traveling.

So, I decided to play with the idea and make it unique. The result was this. If you plan to read beyond this note, I would just like to warn you that it doesn’t really focus on the usual “Who am I” stuff. Rather, it’s written as a letter to the world where I tell it to stop judging me because this is me.

You won’t learn about my likes and dislikes in this post, or anything like that. Instead, you’ll see the true me in the writing itself. The way it’s written. What I say about myself. If you really want to know who I am, then this is your best shot. Thank you for visiting my blog, and good luck.

Dear World and Everyone in it,

You don’t understand me.

You don’t know me, not in the slightest, and it seems to me that you don’t care to know me. You don’t care who I am, just who you want me to be, who you think I should be. So, I have one thing to say to you.


When asked to describe myself in one word, that’s the one I choose.

Not “hope” because my name is Hope and name puns are soooooo funny! (I hope you caught that sarcasm). Not “oblivious” because, according to you, I miss everything. Not “hippy” because I like flowers and there’s nothing to me other than flowers. Definitely not “immature” because you think I’m a child and should be treated as such. And don’t ever say it’s “stupid,” because I am not stupid.

The second time I gave my hair to Locks of Love.

But at the same time, I can’t accurately say that I’m anything else. I am not always “wise,” as a few of you see me. I am not always “loyal,” though I’ve proven myself to be many times over. I am not always “selfless,” no matter how much I give. I am not always “mature,” or “creative,” or “brave.” I am not always anything.

At the end of the day, it depends on who you ask.

I am iridescent. According to Google, iridescent means “showing luminous colors that seem to change when seen from different angles.” And trust me, there isn’t a word in the world that describes me better than that.

(If that doesn’t make sense, check out my poem Iridescent. I don’t know if it will help, but you never know. I wrote it based on this idea.)

You see, somehow, every person — or group of people, in some cases — who has ever known me, you included, has formed a different and unique version, or perspective, of who I am. No two perspectives match, and not a single one is spot on.

Now you see why I’m so fascinated with the idea of perspectives.

Little old me, riding the Griffin statue that I claimed was my pet…

I usually use these different perspectives to hide myself, to keep anyone from figuring me out. The real me isn’t always someone I want people to see. In fact, when I was younger, I was ashamed of the real me. I was ashamed because of you. Because you never accepted the real me. Because I was too crazy, too thoughtful, too different, and you didn’t want anything to do with me. Did I scare you? Did you see me as a threat? Little old me, just trying to find a way in this place, a threat

And I guess that’s when I created my windows and walls, when I started hiding parts of myself. I suppose I never managed to hide the same things every time, because all of this happened. But you can’t blame me for all of this, because it’s your fault.

So, I’m giving you the chance to redeem yourself.

All I’ve ever truly wanted is acceptance. Not as someone else, but as myself.

In the hopes that I might finally be free, I am choosing to be vulnerable. Right here and now, I am opening myself up to you. I am giving you a great deal of my trust, trust that I rarely give. Do not abuse it. It’s more fragile than you could ever know.

This is who I am.




Dear World and Everyone In It,

I’ll give you some friendly advice.

My brother and I attempting to paint a new house.

Within these letters, I’ve included pictures. For the most part, they don’t seem to fit in. They seem random.

However, you should already know, a picture’s worth a thousand words.

If you want to figure out the depth of who I am, pay attention to the pictures. They tell my story, my real story, the story of me beyond what I can say and beyond a pretty face.

Because, I promise you. I am much, much more than a pretty face.

Get it? Got it?





Dear World and Everyone In It,

I am a Highly Sensitive Person.

Yes, HSP (which is the abbreviation for it) is a real thing. It occurs in around 20% of humans and has been found in over 100 other different species. It is an innate trait, and it is 100% me.

If you want proof that I am HSP, I almost starting bawling in the middle of my creative writing class when I learned about it. Yes, bawling. There were tears in my eyes and my throat was tight, and I had to take several deep breaths to hold it all in.

From ipone 271
Me modeling a giant flower at a store.

Why was I so emotional, you may ask? Simple. I’m an incredibly emotional person, so I was already on the brink of a breakdown because I couldn’t figure out how to explain who I am. Then this happened, and my world was basically turned inside out because it matched me perfectly.

It took so many things about me that I couldn’t explain to other people and summarized them all into three simple words. Years of trying to figure out why I react to things so extremely, why I notice details other people never notice, why the five senses impact me so deeply… All explained in three words.

Highly Sensitive Person.

This also explains why I see so much beauty in everything.

Me modeling a fantastic yellow life vest and rubber boots in Ecuador.

It is important to note that not all HSPs are emotional roller coasters. Most are far more easy-going than me. At least, I think that’s the case… I’m guessing I’m just on the more extreme side of things.

And, quite obviously, HSP is not the equivalent of an introvert, seeing as I’m an introvert-extrovert mix.

My creative writing teacher, who is also HSP, was the one who introduced me to this term. She pulled up this blog called hsperson.com and talked to the class about it a bit, then gave us some free time to explore the site ourselves if we so pleased. Obviously, I chose to explore it.

I highly suggest you check out this blog, especially if you think you might be HSP. Seriously, it could change your entire world.

It changed mine.




Dear World and Everyone In It,

I am a perfectionist.

It’s not something I can control. I just want everything to be right, to be the best it can possibly be.

Me on Fort Myers Beach, a split second before my grand wipe-out.

Is that such a crime?

I admit, sometimes I get carried away. I spend hours on a single project that should only take a few minutes, just because I think it could be a little bit better if I change a few things.

Sometimes I succeed. Sometimes I don’t.

I actually had about a dozen panic attacks while trying to plan this post and write it. I think this is my seventh draft started from scratch. I won’t even try to count how many times I revised each draft… But honestly, it turned out better than it would have if I had stuck to the first draft, so who can say my perfectionist tendencies are bad?

Though at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what you think or even what I think. I can’t help being a perfectionist. It’s not something I can control or change about myself. It’s just a part of me.

It’s likely that my perfectionist qualities developed from my childhood. My parents have always pushed me to have the absolute best grades, and though that’s not a bad thing, it’s been… hard, to say the least. My entire life, I was faced with the constant questions of why do you have a B in this class? Why is it not an A? What are you going to do to bring it up?

Our family photo on Fort Myers Beach.

Yes, it’s been frustrating.

But no, I’m not mad at my parents for it.

They were only doing what they thought best. And honestly, I’m glad they raised me this way. I think I’m a better person because of it. I never settle for mediocre and always strive for the best, which is a way of life everyone should follow.

Actually, if I’m to be mad at anyone, it should be you. You who see this part of me as negative (Psychology Today is the perfect example), you who tell me that I should feel shame.

You, who taught me to hate myself because I want to be the best I can be.

Thank you, world.

And you wonder why I hide.




Dear World and Everyone In It,

I am Attention Deficit.

Not stupid. Not oblivious. Not immature.

My brother fast asleep with his giant tiger. That’s me in the background.

In fifth grade, I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder, ADD for short. By now, it’s probably more like ADHD, but being diagnosed with ADHD wouldn’t do anything more for me. I’d still be taking the same exact medicine, still be living the same exact life, just with a different term to define my disorder.

Disorder. How I hate that word.

I won’t go into detail about this. I already posted an entire story that goes through my life before and after being diagnosed with ADD. You can read it here.

The door to one of my past rooms, which we tore out during one of our moves.

Otherwise, you just need to know that it isn’t stupidity that makes me slow. It’s the constant noise that fills the world, that’s always ringing in my ears and drawing my attention away.

It isn’t obliviousness that keeps me from noticing the big picture. It’s all the little details in the world that I notice and focus in on, but you seem to be oblivious to.

And it isn’t immaturity that causes me to act like a child. It’s my mind running in a million places at once, unable to focus on anything, yet focusing on everything, all at the same time.

It’s not easy being me. So just… Stop acting like there’s something wrong with me. Please. There’s nothing wrong with me, my mind just works differently than everyone else’s.

I’m just… me. So stop judging me and try to understand who I am for once.




Dear World and Everyone In It,

This is who I am.

From ipone 022
My best friend and I posing in our formal attire.

Accept it.

I’m tired of trying to be someone else,

so I’m just gonna be myself.

Say whatever you want to say.

I don’t care.

At the end of the day,

this is me.

Not the person you say I should be.

You only ever saw me through windows,

while walls blocked most of your view.

You don’t know me.

You’ve never known me.

So stop trying to control me

because it won’t work.

Not anymore.

I’m done pretending.

It’s time I stepped outside

Honestly, I don’t even know…

and let the world see me

for me.

I’m proud to be me.

I’m proud to be unique.

I’m ready to be vulnerable.

So ready or not,

here I come.

This is the real me.




My Name is Hope


Pandora was thankful that I stayed.

The Norse are less kind in how I’m portrayed.

Those of Israel sing the anthem of me.

Snyder’s scale measures my degree.

Emily said that I have feathers.

I spring eternal in Pope’s endeavor.

A beautiful diamond carries my curse.

The swallow symbolizes my rebirth.

I comforted Christian in a Castle of doubt.

At the gates of hell, Dante laid me down.

I am a virtue of the Christian religion.

I’m also a campaign for a politician.

I am the point of the African coast.

I am undoubtedly and forever Hope.

*(Note: Here’s one of the poems I wrote while bored and messing around. It turned out a lot better than I had originally expected… And it was a lot of fun to write. If you ever get the chance, try to write a poem about your name, like this! I swear, it does work for any name, not just names that are also words!)

Picture source: lemerg.com

My poetry belongs to me. All poems under the category “Poetry by Me” are mine. Use of my poetry without my permission is prohibited. If you wish to use any my poetry for any reason, ask me for permission first.