Muska

The morning sun peaked through the dusted window and ripped at my exposed head above the stained dark blue blanket. A radiant block of light below my lethargic sight leaking into the air. The world was blurred around me, the details fuzzy and bland. But everything closer to me---things such as my hands and my shoulders and the edge of the blanket above my bare chest---was very much visible, perfectly clear. To heal this impairment of my vision I would need to go put in my contacts---great.

Okay. Wow. You over described that so much, it took me five times of reading it to get what you were trying to say.

My closet was opened, darkness in its containment, I suppose I had left it that way the previous night, but I realized that one of the sliding white doors was inmoveable. The door behind the other was half slid out and tilting back, the top fading out of sight into the dark above.

Again, over describing something, especially something so minor like this, isn't good. The closet doesn't really have any significance to the story right? Then it doesn't really matter, and you don't really need all this. Also just the way you word the sentence here, is strange, so you might want to try doing it over a little simpler.

My heart felt as if it were in a rusted cage, away from Savannah, my personal belle of the ball for my life to go back to in its times of need.

Okay you might want to clarify that Savannah is a girl and not the city...

It was the first day of summer and she was away, out of my loving embrace. I needed to hug something. So I(Space)sat up straight and pulled my pillow from behind me, gathering it into my arms in that caring embrace which I imagined as her. "She is everything and more . . ." I spoke this part of a mesmerizing song from Slipknot, whom I hardly ever listen to anymore. This part of the song was more of a gloomy collection of words, with a small tinge of rhythm. "The solemn hypnotic/ My Dahlia, bathed in possession." And then the somber singing onsets like some kind of cold virus, still holding that faint tinge of a somber narrative. "She is home to me/ I get nervous, perverse, when I see her it's worse/ But the stress is astounding/ It's now or never/ She's coming home... Forever."

Okay...well it's not horrible, but it's not really all that interesting, just a normal get up and go day. But the thing is, something that could last a paragraph, took you a whole chapter. By dragging and drawing out a boring plot line, and over describing to try and make it seem interesting, you really sort of killed it. When you have every single little thing in some sort of metaphor or whatever it is, the reader's brain has to stop and see what you're trying to show through the metaphor, and when you have a million descriptions of everything it makes it incredibly hard to read.

But good luck and keep writing!

Thanks for the review. I do know that I was decribing a bit too much. It was about things that I do so I went a bit overboard. I don't usually write like this though. I posted this without checking my grammatical errors first, so . . . :/ Oh well.

Okay here is the review!

The world was blured around me, the details fuzzy and bland. But everything closer to me---things such as my hands and my shoulders and the edge of the blanket above my bare chest---was very much visible, perfectly clear. To heal this impairment of my vision I would need to go put in my contacts---great.   to me---things such as my hands and my shoulders and the edge of the blanket above my bare chest---was very much visible, perfectly clear. To heal this impairment of my vision I would need to go put in my contacts---great.   shoulders and the edge of the blanket above my bare chest---was very much visible, perfectly clear. To heal this impairment of my vision I would need to go put in my contacts---great.   vision I would need to go put in my contacts--- great.

"blured" is supposed to ne "blurry"

So Isat up straight and pulled my pillow from behind me, gathering it into my arms in that caring embrace which I imagined as her. " caring embrace which I imagined as her. " everything and more . . ." I spoke

"Isat" is suppose to be "I sat"

Slipknot, whom I harldy ever listen to anymore. This part of the song was more of a gloomy collection of words, with a small tinge of rythmn.

"harldy" is spelt wrong, its "hardly"

I decided not to sing the rest, instead I slowy got out of bed, pulling my legs from under the warm protection of the blankets.

"slowy" is wrong, its "slowly"

er this I ventured over to the bigger dresser on top of which I keep all of my throphies from my former years of racing motocross, most from the Vet-X series, the oldest from racing at Racetown 395 on my KX 65 when I was just a liitle-un.

"liitle-un"...I think this could be "young-in" or "little one"

o my left is a wall of cabinets, painted white like all every single wall in the house and to my right is a carpet stripped room where Muska, me and my dad's dog, pisses and shits. I looked into the Dog Room, that's what we call it, and stare at the blurred blotches of dark brown scattered throughout the room. Distgusting. I walk away and pass directly into the bathroom were the flooring turns into white tile.   and stare at the blurred blotches of dark brown scattered throughout the room. Distgusting.

Lol this a hilarious paragraph...wait is this person a girl or boy, it sounds like a boy but a girl too. Try to. Explain more about the person.

...I think thats all...I hoped I helped!.

On this I don't really need to explain about wether it's a boy or a girl because it's about me. I hinted it earlier when I spoke of my girlfriend.