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Nico di Angelo's blog

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Nico di Angelo's picture

Why I want to be an author

on January 10, 2022 - 10:02am

I’ve always loved to write. It started when I was around seven years old and we were writing princess stories in school. The story was supposed to be your classic damsel in distress, saved by a prince, happily ever after, but I didn’t want that for myself. I wanted to save myself. So I didn’t follow the directions. My story was about a princess who was mistreated at home. She overthrew her parents and became the queen of her kingdom. The day that the assignment got turned in I was called to my teachers room during lunch. She asked me why I changed the assignment.

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poem

on January 3, 2022 - 7:51am

“When I’m older I want to be like you,”
I knew a little girl who said those words,
The ones that scared me.
How could someone be like me if I don’t know who I am?
If I constantly change myself to fit in.
It’s a natural instinct to change yourself a little bit so that you fit in.
Not even to fit in,
More to just not stand out.
It’s not changing the way I dress,
It’s just changing my interests,
Or how much I talk.
The age of the people I’m with changes it.
With little kids I try to be nice,
With adults I’m polite.
With kids my own age, or close to it,
I am most like myself but not entirely.

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Emo Day

on December 19, 2021 - 7:26am

Happy National Emo Day everyone!!!!! . What's ur favorite part of emo culture?

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Another poem

on December 11, 2021 - 4:55pm

Y'all didn't seem to hate my last poem so here's another.

The dark folds in,
Leaving all of the kingdoms subjects alone,
Stranded in the night.
The lone owls howl echoes through the air,
Giving unknowing villagers quite the scare.
Some hate the dark,
For fear of the unknown,
The threat that comes with the quiet mist just drives them insane.
But other people are simply lured in by the mystery,
Of where the sun goes at night,
And why the pattern of stars we see bright and alive in the sky,
Is more like a secret cosmic graveyard.
Those people were the night children,
Abandoned at birth,
Best

Nico di Angelo's picture

My Poem

on December 6, 2021 - 12:05pm

Um so this is my poem i wrote for the poetry slam. I hope you like it!

Nightmares

Running,
But getting nowhere.
Screaming,
But no sound comes out.
Crying for help,
But no one sees me there.
I don’t know who's chasing me,
But with every breath I take they get closer.
They’re crying my name,
But I never turn around.
Something tells me that they’re going to hurt me,
So I just keep running.
Running,
And then it stops.
I sit up,
Grasping the sheets,
Breathing hard.
I’m awake.
I feel something warm on my lip,
And instinctively touch my finger to the spot.
Blood.
I bit my lip in my sleep again.
It

Pages

MY BLOG

Nico di Angelo's picture
Monday January 10, 2022 
| Posted by: Nico di Angelo

I’ve always loved to write. It started when I was around seven years old and we were writing princess stories in school. The story was supposed to be your classic damsel in distress, saved by a prince, happily ever after, but I didn’t want that for myself. I wanted to save myself. So I didn’t follow the directions. My story was about a princess who was mistreated at home. She overthrew her parents and became the queen of her kingdom. The day that the assignment got turned in I was called to my teachers room during lunch. She asked me why I changed the assignment. I told her because I didn’t want to have a prince in my story. She smiled and told me that I got an A plus.
After that experience I started to do similar things in class. The next prompt was supposed to be about your favorite story hero. I wrote about Maleficent, another A. I passed ELA with a 100 that year. When we changed schools the teachers were more strict. I now couldn’t write creative stories, only boring stuff about Ferdinand Magellan. Middle school was different. You were told a genre and you could write anything with that category. That was the coolest thing I’d ever seen in school. My social studies teacher liked my writing and allowed me to write about whatever country I want after seeing how much better I did when I wasn’t guided. While the class learned about pollution I wrote about the Renaissance.
I was pulled out of school in seventh grade and ever since I’ve been able to write whatever I want, whenever I want. I’m working on a new story right now and so far I have 46 pages. My story is about a teenage punk werewolf. Her name is Tiv and she is 14 years old. Out of all of my stories this one is my favorite. She accidentally befriends a group of vampires, and has to leave them behind when she finds out that she is a werewolf. I want to publish the book when I finish it. It has inspired me to go to an art high school next year and pursue creative writing along with acting. So yeah, that's why I want to be an author.

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Monday January 03, 2022 
| Posted by: Nico di Angelo

“When I’m older I want to be like you,”
I knew a little girl who said those words,
The ones that scared me.
How could someone be like me if I don’t know who I am?
If I constantly change myself to fit in.
It’s a natural instinct to change yourself a little bit so that you fit in.
Not even to fit in,
More to just not stand out.
It’s not changing the way I dress,
It’s just changing my interests,
Or how much I talk.
The age of the people I’m with changes it.
With little kids I try to be nice,
With adults I’m polite.
With kids my own age, or close to it,
I am most like myself but not entirely.
With some I change my clothes to avoid confrontation.
With some I have to be quiet,
With some I must keep all opinions to myself.
Everything about me changes all the time.
I am only myself when alone,
And I’m still not sure who that person is.
What’s her favorite color?
Does she prefer light or dark?
Is she loud or quiet?
I might never know.
I guess that's why it scared me when I heard a little girl say,
“When I’m older I want to be like you,”

Nico di Angelo's picture
Sunday December 19, 2021 
| Posted by: Nico di Angelo

Happy National Emo Day everyone!!!!! . What's ur favorite part of emo culture?

Nico di Angelo's picture
Saturday December 11, 2021 
| Posted by: Nico di Angelo

Y'all didn't seem to hate my last poem so here's another.

The dark folds in,
Leaving all of the kingdoms subjects alone,
Stranded in the night.
The lone owls howl echoes through the air,
Giving unknowing villagers quite the scare.
Some hate the dark,
For fear of the unknown,
The threat that comes with the quiet mist just drives them insane.
But other people are simply lured in by the mystery,
Of where the sun goes at night,
And why the pattern of stars we see bright and alive in the sky,
Is more like a secret cosmic graveyard.
Those people were the night children,
Abandoned at birth,
Best friends with the moon.
The night children fought for themselves,
Feeding off of the wild,
Discovering many of the foods we eat today.
No one knows why they were left in the woods,
It could have been their pale skin,
Paler than the other children.
Or their eyes,
Changing colors every now and then.
Maybe even their abnormal strength,
Or their speed.
Their feeding off of humans was a common myth,
Perhaps one started by their families.
In truth, the night children had never hurt anyone,
They were only hurt by everyone.
All of the children are gone now,
Maybe they died,
Maybe they went into hiding.
The world would have known,
Had they given the night children a chance to join civilization,
That they were just as kind as the rest.
They were different but beauty lied inside of them,
Not only on the surface,
But in their hearts.
Now the night children have many names,
Vampires,
Demons,
Mutans,
Dark ones,
Shadow children.
But were they the evil ones?
Or were the ones who hid them from the world all because they looked different.
If you’re quiet sometimes you can hear the ghosts of their footsteps,
Running through the woods,
Giggling as they went.
They were too young and carefree,
Too patient and calm,
And Maybe even too trusting.
Some of the children taught themselves to read,
Trying desperately to join the villages and families.
Some of the children were content with their lives in the dark.
But some of the children wanted to fight back.
They wanted to show the world what they could do.
They never did though,
They stayed in the woods with their undeserved punishments.
These children,
Too young to understand the world,
Were kinder than the children of today.
Remember the night children

Nico di Angelo's picture
Monday December 06, 2021 
| Posted by: Nico di Angelo

Um so this is my poem i wrote for the poetry slam. I hope you like it!

Nightmares

Running,
But getting nowhere.
Screaming,
But no sound comes out.
Crying for help,
But no one sees me there.
I don’t know who's chasing me,
But with every breath I take they get closer.
They’re crying my name,
But I never turn around.
Something tells me that they’re going to hurt me,
So I just keep running.
Running,
And then it stops.
I sit up,
Grasping the sheets,
Breathing hard.
I’m awake.
I feel something warm on my lip,
And instinctively touch my finger to the spot.
Blood.
I bit my lip in my sleep again.
It had been happening more often,
I already knew what to do.
The bleeding isn’t bad,
And I wipe it off in the mirror.
I turn on the light with a sigh,
And check the clock on my nightstand.
5:00 am.
Right on time.
I don’t have to be downstairs for three more hours.
The swelling will have gone down by then.
I climb back into bed and sit there.
I’m so tired,
And sleep won’t come.
Back to laying down,
I try to close my eyes,
But the dream flashes in front of them.
Sleep is now unavailable.
So I lay there.
Eyes open.
I won’t be asleep anytime soon.
Not until the night.
When I’ll lay in bed for what feels like an eternity.
And finally slip back in,
To my nightmare.

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hi
Monday November 22, 2021 
| Posted by: Nico di Angelo

hi. i have a blog about emo music and vampires and stuff. idk if anyone will check it out but heres the link. https://livingwithfangs.blogspot.com/. **not spam i promise lol** why is the other spam back on the site???