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Help[Opinions] Jerrica for a girl. Thoughts?
I know, I know. You're probably getting flashbacks to Jem and the Holograms :)
Aside from that, What do you think of the name Jerrica (jair - rick - kuh)?
Aside from that, What do you think of the name Jerrica (jair - rick - kuh)?
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Replies
I like it but I will never use it. It makes me think of bright red.
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I have no idea what you're referencing. I have a friend named Jerrica and definitely thought it was weird at first. I've gotten used to it, but still would prefer Erica.
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At first glance I hated it, but maybe I'd find it more bearable with a spelling like Gerika... or hmm no I don't like it either.
anyways, disregard this I need to copy and paste this and I can't sign into my school account to move it and this was the only way I could think of
Everyone with a memory know it means that every so often a flickering light, an old friend, or an unidentifiable smell will call to them strangely.
And I’m called by a place. It's just a jumble of stick forts near the bank of the river, decorated on the inside with feathers and now ancient flowers hanging in the ceiling. The ground is still etched in hopscotch and four-square formations, or little doodles in the rock hard muck, since the creek’s drying up. The sunsets are silent as my classrooms during a test, just instead of stress, or mental math hanging in the air, rays of pink and gold softly disappear beneath the earth.
It's built at the creek behind my house. Me and my friends built it when we were all really young, and we used to hang around it all the time. But now we’re tethered to homework assignments, swim meets, dance combinations, chess teams, social media, and that dead-level spirit of friendship we all had no longer binds us. And I think I’ve felt the last traces of our tweenhood drip beneath the earth with the sunset. It’s become something else, something I wouldn’t give a name.
At twilight it's dark. Like, halloween movie dark. The trees are shadowed. Bits of moss and dead leaves float across the creek's surface like it's some lonely road. Stars glow like squelched suns over the ancient, abandoned children's village. Sometimes I can go down there, sitting alone for hours, breathing in, and out, the whisper of a distant past.
anyways, disregard this I need to copy and paste this and I can't sign into my school account to move it and this was the only way I could think of
Everyone with a memory know it means that every so often a flickering light, an old friend, or an unidentifiable smell will call to them strangely.
And I’m called by a place. It's just a jumble of stick forts near the bank of the river, decorated on the inside with feathers and now ancient flowers hanging in the ceiling. The ground is still etched in hopscotch and four-square formations, or little doodles in the rock hard muck, since the creek’s drying up. The sunsets are silent as my classrooms during a test, just instead of stress, or mental math hanging in the air, rays of pink and gold softly disappear beneath the earth.
It's built at the creek behind my house. Me and my friends built it when we were all really young, and we used to hang around it all the time. But now we’re tethered to homework assignments, swim meets, dance combinations, chess teams, social media, and that dead-level spirit of friendship we all had no longer binds us. And I think I’ve felt the last traces of our tweenhood drip beneath the earth with the sunset. It’s become something else, something I wouldn’t give a name.
At twilight it's dark. Like, halloween movie dark. The trees are shadowed. Bits of moss and dead leaves float across the creek's surface like it's some lonely road. Stars glow like squelched suns over the ancient, abandoned children's village. Sometimes I can go down there, sitting alone for hours, breathing in, and out, the whisper of a distant past.
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The tale I spin with gold magniloquence
Of parallel stories in poetic synthesis
Unveils it’s lesson to all its witnesses
…
Torn from the mass of blankets, the warm chrysalis
Your body aching with groggy dissidence
Wondering of this action’s impetus
Step-step-creeeaak
Into the biting air and the realm of Silvanus
The stupid forest god and nature’s viciousness
And the trees with paused photosynthesis
Step-step-CRACK!
Cursing the lake and your lack of vigilance
And your stinging ankles and nature’s fickleness
And the ice and mudbugs, beings limiculous
Slosh-slosh-brrrrrrrrrrrr!
Must you take a walk so periculous
Through a forest so cold and deciduous
Now your stomach feels wormy, vermiculous
Step-step-sigh
Sludging, lugging your clunky instruments
Your arms grow heavy and somniculous
And your outlook gloomy and caliginous
step-step-ahhhhhh…
Now for your first day in all its vividness
At the high school of St. Nicholas
In its location so ridiculous
step-step-BEEP
You try to block the raging diffidence
with the stoic intensity of Epictetus
As the door unlocks with a cliquetis
Step-step-shweep
A hallway of faces shimmering with viridis
and empty of memories; so you begin to reminisce,
Moving through these new energies, of a school unlike this
Step-step-WOAH
You slip, now cursing your lack of diligence
And the staring eyes and these times of sufferance
But of your future you lack sibilance
Step-step-hmm
You are blinded by your doubts solicitous
You know leaves burst from buds, in trees deciduous
As air grows warm, now make the inference
Step-step-tick
What of the warmth caused by events contiguous
Where a friendly face amongst the group indigenous
Leaves its glowing impression amongst its witnesses
step-step-step
Seasons change in the forest, you Dumniculus
If you bring the heat of your personality, you know, solis?
After lonely crowds or slogs through elements
step-step-step
Cold air and piercing stares turn to what you miss
The blooming forests, and friendships, see their equivalence?
But one winter could be eternal, with a spring you make or miss
Of parallel stories in poetic synthesis
Unveils it’s lesson to all its witnesses
…
Torn from the mass of blankets, the warm chrysalis
Your body aching with groggy dissidence
Wondering of this action’s impetus
Step-step-creeeaak
Into the biting air and the realm of Silvanus
The stupid forest god and nature’s viciousness
And the trees with paused photosynthesis
Step-step-CRACK!
Cursing the lake and your lack of vigilance
And your stinging ankles and nature’s fickleness
And the ice and mudbugs, beings limiculous
Slosh-slosh-brrrrrrrrrrrr!
Must you take a walk so periculous
Through a forest so cold and deciduous
Now your stomach feels wormy, vermiculous
Step-step-sigh
Sludging, lugging your clunky instruments
Your arms grow heavy and somniculous
And your outlook gloomy and caliginous
step-step-ahhhhhh…
Now for your first day in all its vividness
At the high school of St. Nicholas
In its location so ridiculous
step-step-BEEP
You try to block the raging diffidence
with the stoic intensity of Epictetus
As the door unlocks with a cliquetis
Step-step-shweep
A hallway of faces shimmering with viridis
and empty of memories; so you begin to reminisce,
Moving through these new energies, of a school unlike this
Step-step-WOAH
You slip, now cursing your lack of diligence
And the staring eyes and these times of sufferance
But of your future you lack sibilance
Step-step-hmm
You are blinded by your doubts solicitous
You know leaves burst from buds, in trees deciduous
As air grows warm, now make the inference
Step-step-tick
What of the warmth caused by events contiguous
Where a friendly face amongst the group indigenous
Leaves its glowing impression amongst its witnesses
step-step-step
Seasons change in the forest, you Dumniculus
If you bring the heat of your personality, you know, solis?
After lonely crowds or slogs through elements
step-step-step
Cold air and piercing stares turn to what you miss
The blooming forests, and friendships, see their equivalence?
But one winter could be eternal, with a spring you make or miss
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Don't like it, Jessica is better
1
Love Jessica but Jerrica is awful.
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