Sensory description of a ripped up image of old self??????

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iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
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Sensory description of a ripped up image of old self
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z33
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what... like is this for a story or what i don't get what you want :/

(Original post by iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii)
Sensory description of a ripped up image of old self
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ForestShadow
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(Original post by iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii)
Sensory description of a ripped up image of old self
(Original post by z33)
what... like is this for a story or what i don't get what you want :/
Sensory description means sensory details: includes sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste. (just googled it)

Is the OP trying to find the sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste
of a ripped up image of their old self?

OP has a very unique bucket list for sure
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iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
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yes its for a story, need to describe process of ripping up photo of old self (beautiful), person now is opposite to that.
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z33
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(Original post by iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii)
yes its for a story, need to describe process of ripping up photo of old self (beautiful), person now is opposite to that.
I stared into his/her eyes, travelling back in time. I looked over their bright green eyes and sunkissed radiant skin, peppered with freckles which complemented their straight, long ginger hair. They wore a smile on their lips that stretched from ear to ear, and their eyes smiled too. I didn't realise I was crying until I tasted the saltiness of my tears. What happened? I asked myself. This isn't me anymore. I looked in the mirror. Cold, misty eyes stared back at me, their sparkle had long since faded. I touched my cheeks, their rosy colour had faded to grey and they were cold to the touch. My lips were blue and my hair, well what's left of it, was dirty and thin. I felt a wave of anger rush over my body, this isn't me. I made eye contact with the girl/boy in the photo again, and my shaky hands travelled to the top of the photo. I pressed my fingers together and pulled them apart, making a tear. I tore straight through the middle, I stacked the halves on top of each other and ripped again, and again, and again. I could not stop. I could not see through my tears, my head was throbbing, the ringing in my ears wouldn't die down - I felt out of control. Soon enough I was surrounded by many little pieces of paper that once resembled me - no, that was not me. I am a monster. My knees buckled and I fell to the floor, I slammed my fist into the floor as hard as I could over and over again. The blood warmed my cold skin, a reminder that I was human. I lay on the floor, surrounded by my memories, until I finally fall asleep and escape the painful reality.
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sorry it's **** lol - i haven't written anything like this since GCSE english lang like 3 years ago lol
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The Rad Prince
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That's deep.
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(Original post by The Rad Prince)
That's deep.
ikr
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