# Jumping Out The Rut

Title: Jumping Out The Rut
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Fang
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: LowkeyLoki
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Damn.
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This hurts.
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I lie at the back of my seat, eyes staring at nothing in particular. Recently, I've been acting incredibly self-destructive by allowing myself to read depressing writefaggotry on dinochan. If I was a normal person, I would have just shut down my computer and not spend my time on an Albanian weapons training forum. But of course, being the abnormally autistic individual I am, I do the exact opposite of that. My eyes are totally puffy and dry by this point. After reading a piece that was inspired by the author's own relationship problems with his pterodactyl family, I couldn't help but break down from there. It was so painful, but I couldn't stop reading it. It was like the more I tried to pull away the closer I was dragged to it by a thick rope. Throughout my time at Volcano High, I've really come to appreciate the different forms of art across the board. The three that hit most for me personally were music, drawing, and writing. Now, writing... has hit hard for me as you can see. I was never too much of a literature guy, not until recently, but I learned that it has a special charm that can't be rivaled.
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Writing is truly infinite, held back by no boundaries. You can create a world, and change it with the snap of a finger. The reader's mind then creates it's own idea of how your world is. A story is a wonderful, anonymous bond between the reader and the author, one that is mysterious, yet fully cherishable. Whether it is true, fictional, or inspired, it allows for the use of imagination; Our most cherished ability. Writers use their hopes, dreams, fears, experiences, and emotion to build the incredible worlds they have constructed with their hands. Readers use their lack of understanding of the world they're delving in to make their own idea of that world, thus creating a bond that cannot be achieved anywhere else. These worlds truly stick around, capable of bringing many things out of you. They make us laugh, make us smile, make us calm, make us hopeful, make us...
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Cry.
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And, as far as I know, nothing else is like this.
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I continue to stare at the void of space, the stagnant cold air ever so slowly gliding off of me. With the perspective-changing pieces of literature written by the utmost remarkable stuck in my head, I can no longer move. The true power of writing has left me frozen. I don't think there's anything here that could get me out of this new depression.
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I break out of my endless trance as my phone lights up from the desk.
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[Fang] hey dweeb parents just left
[Fang] come ovr and play guitar w me
[Fang] i made dino nuggies for us
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Well... that might no longer be true.