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TimeO watch the date being written on the top of a page and I think about time, and years, and seconds and minutes, and nothing makes sense.
I think of hours becoming minutes and minutes ticking like seconds but not quite and not fast but not slow, never enough time. And like a white rabbit I chase after my clock and all I can do is drag you behind me tired and gasping for breath.
But time is relative like our perception of it, and in the clarity of your eyes upon me and the brush of your skin no moment is infinite and even though we have no end I can’t seem to find enough time.
Days pass us by in waking moments and yet I dream of you, beside you, because of you.
And yet we don’t have enough time, not 12 hours, not 7 days, our bodies and hands always seem to seek for more, never satisfied.
And another full moon will pass, and I will be waiting, for time to once more stop, upon you.
Por ahoraY todo sigue fluyendo: el agua recolectada en el pequeño canal temporal afuera de mi ventana, la brisa en las copas de los árboles, meciendo a las aves, que mañaneras se duermen temprano, el ir y venir de la gente al terminar el día.
Y nada se detiene, ni el cortejo amargo y distante de las estrellas, que fallecidas, nos mandan un último suspiro, ni las estaciones que, confundidas por arboles perenes, se tropiezan unas con otras sin saber cuándo es quien ni donde es alguien.
Y yo aquí sigo pensándote, entre palabras a medio escribir, temprano en la mañana; durante el café, queriendo tomar tu mano; después de la ducha, cuando mi cabello, ahora más corto, más simple, rosa mi nuca fría y me estremezco.
Y los días se alargan, y el tiempo estira, y continuo inmóvil. Por ahora me conformo en pensarte y fluir como el agua, como la briza, como el tiempo.
The gentleman with the paper napkin rose!Lonely and heart broken,
I was that night.
I walked out of my hotel room,
right into the bar and into it's magical atmosphere,
beautiful belly dancers,
I sat down and got me a drink,
wanting to drawn,
all of my feelings,
my love, my life.
wanting to be cold,
not wanting to feel anything,
betrayal is a painful
thing to remember!
So I wanted the ability to forget,
since forgiving was much too soon
for my broken heart.
So intense was this pain,
many years later
I still carry it's scars.
and without looking I was at the distance,
welcomed by someone's interest...
There he was looking at me,
and for the longest time
I could not look away, I got hypnotize
by his Indian eyes...
From a paper napkin he made me a flower,
I thought of this detail for hours.
He walked to me and reached for my hands,
placing the object of his creation between my fingers.
He must have made this flowers a thousand times,
because as he did,
he never stopped looking at my eye
... and nobody cares.Can you see these empty eyes, screaming for help? No you can't.
Oh come on, you're not sick! I can't see it! Your answer was. You're thinking of me as a malingerer, don't try to tell me otherwise. You think I'm one of the comfortably sick to get through life easy.
Have you ever asked yourself why you (still) live? What is worth for living? When all problems hail down on you at once and you threaten to suffocate, seeing all your plans and dreams destroyed, you won't consider giving up, don't you?
Come get your ass up, lazy f*ck and get a job again, I once heard you yelling at me. Afterwards I'm asking myself – do you, so called friend, even know me at all? Do you know that the pressure of my past has crushed me into an unstable pile of mood swings, suicide thoughts and psychosomatic sickness? Probably not, because if you'd know me you wouldn't hurt me with your words.
But there are loads of therapists out there, don't whine into my ears any longer, go get your hea
everything is temporaryi have never been one to yell, it hurts my throat, or maybe i just lack the passion to get that mad at something. you always did bring out things that i never knew were inside though. we had matching bloodshot eyes, and the same fuck the world attitude running through our veins as if the world owed us something. it didn't then. but it does now. my blood is thick and burning and i want to try and flood it into yours to get the colour back into your cheeks that i just watched drain. i kicked the wall, and opened the window and screamed at the sky-scrappers and i don't know how the world can just keep fucking turning without so much a skipped rotation or a fucking stutter.
you turned small, minor things into giant fucking events that made my chest even tighter. a tickle in my throat, a spreading wildfire on the nape of my neck, a distinct lack of words or feelings to anything more than a lingering heaviness. i lost count of how many times i contemplated stepping in front of that car, bus,
The Privileged Feminist and the WomanShe was a feminist, born free,
while she was a woman born over seas.
She was the feminist who went to school,
while she was the woman who paid unrightful dues.
She was the feminist who went to college,
while she was the woman forced to work without knowledge.
She was the feminist who preached her corrupted views,
She was the woman whose homeland was on the news.
She was the feminist who spoke her annoying mind,
She was the woman who could only be at peace inside.
She was the feminist who could walk freely,
She was the woman that would get beaten weekly.
She was the feminist who blamed men for everything,
She was the woman who was forced to bare men's offspring.
She was the feminist who could chose her life
She was the woman who didn't make it past twenty five.
She is the feminist who is blind to the world,
who only cares for herself, her life is like a pearl,
She is the woman who cannot show her face,
as an excuse to be modest, faithful and chaste.
She is the feminist who is ignorant t
fellow adventurers and others who want to donti know its been a long time sense she commited suicide but i just recently found out about Amanda Todd the poor girl she just couldnt handle it anymore i wanted to say that it gets better i should know and today im gonna tell you my story
it was an ordanary day in the dew household yes dew as in mountain dew anyway i was deppresed tho that wasnt unusual for me knowing my past it was diffrent this time it was like my deppression was worse then ever i went into my brothers old room to look at pictures because hes at collage so i was missing him then i noticed his clouset was open now ya see he had a real sword in that clouset and i saw it i thought to myself i-its to much i cant handle it anymore i picked the sword up and almost drew it getting ready to drive it right through my 9 year old chest but then i thought to myself why am i doing this all its gonna do is make my family missrable and i dont
The ScientistCome up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you, tell you I need you
Tell you I'll set you apart
Roni was excited for her new best friend to finally come over. I was never good at talking to others, so I wasn't excited. I unplugged the airbed from the pump, quickly closing the seal so air wouldn't get out. A knock at the door showed that Roni's friend was here. I peeked out from the hallway, looking at the stranger from my hiding spot.
She was beautiful.
Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions
Oh let's go back to the start
Running in circles, coming in tails
Heads on a science apart
Roni fell asleep around midnight, Chass was a night owl, so she was still up. Me and her had been talking for the past few minutes. Trying to get to know each other. I was falling in love. Days passed, weeks, we were both really close by now. I wanted to ask her out, but, I was just to nervous.
What if I was just a friend to her?
4 Dead ChordsI’m here, with the darkness embracing me, trying to sleep. My eyes, full of tears, want to sleep, listening to those things that makes me feel bad in the middle of the night, listening to my thoughts written by other mind, but are mine. I know the reason of the sad midnight, when the sky has closed the window and no one can see the spirits, walking lonely roads.
Maybe I took another wrong way, or the wrong way took me, with a beautiful smile and deep black eyes, asking me if I was truly happy all this time without Starlight; I wasn’t, those days were wasted moments in my life. There’s nothing to see inside a womb, where you are isolated and peaceful with yourself, thinking about the day you had.
I’m drowning in memories, and cry, the droplets that my lung has.
Come With Me~I snuck out somewhere last night. I do every night. I go to a wonderful place, somewhere no one knows.
You should come with~
I love it there. It has it's ups and downs- but it really is a nice place.
Better than you can image~
It changes almost every night. It can be really bright and fun, then the next night I have to run for my life.
Are you on your way?~
I can be pleasured- or in pain. I can be happy- or depressed. I can fear- or be feared. I can be trying to save everyone from a burning house- or be starting the fire.
It might hurt- and I can't say it'll get better~
It could be a really romantic night- or I could be getting ready for murder.
So lets go get ready~
Do you want to know where this place is?
You might regret it- but I know we'll have fun~
Are you sure you really want to know?
You can't run now~
I snuck out somewhere last night. I do every night.
You should come with~
You should come with me to Dream
La Realidad De Mis ExpectativasQuería regalarte todas mis ideas y pensamientos, pero note que pensábamos igual.
Quería recostarme contigo de noche y rogarte para ver mis películas favoritas, pero conocías todas las historias.
Me estire para tomar tu mano de sorpresa, pero me esperabas con dedos extendidos y palmas suaves.
Soñaba con pasar las tardes contigo y desvelarnos hasta la madrugada, conversando entre besos y mirándote de reojo, como cada fin de semana parecemos hacerlo.
Últimamente me encuentro de humor para escribir líneas cortas, supongo que es bueno eliminar el relleno de vez en cuando
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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