i have to keep consuming
products which keep me
from thinking about you
and her, in our bed - fucking.
it’s dirty, how you did me, how
you begged me to stay
after i found the strength
to walk away. it’s dirty that
i believed you, it’s dirty that
i caught you fucking yet
another woman while you
manipulated me into thinking
that our future was certain.
what’s worse is that i keep
imagining the fullness of your
lips on mine. that it’s only been
a week since i’ve been fucked
and i’m already desperate for
someone to fill this void.
while i have to actively not think
of the woman who you left me for.
while i consider the fact that
you molded me into someone
that both of us hate.
“ Do you wonder about how strange and inane it is that we decorate pain sometimes ? Only an emotion such as love can make us forget about the deepest of our scars while still making us vulnerable. It’s a mirage, a fallacy.Don’t you think so too, my love ? You and I, we let ourselves be torn to shreds if it means to keep each other by our sides. In no other situation would I want this - but it’s you , it’s us, and it would be a privilege to be ruined by you over and again. ”
if there’s anything to learn
from the emotional abuse
he’s made me face, it’s
the knowledge that my
intuition is almost always
correct. and my intuition
tells me that the part of
you that looks to greener
grass wonders if i can be
the one to lead you astray.
or if your refusal to admit
to yourself that you want to
fuck me shows that you’ve grown
up. either way, i welcome the
distraction, and imagine your
fingers on my throat as my own
fingers stimulate myself to
orgasm. all i am is a mix
of intoxication and
desperation. and i dont
think you mind, at least
you don’t in my
There’s so much in this world that has yet to be done, but when we confuse our opprotunities for obligations, it robs our blessings of their fun. Being a professional in our fields of passion turn heartfilled hobbies into jobs. The only actual problem that exists is that we tell ourselves what we’re doing is wrong, and self doubt is the biggest abomination of God. No one knows what’s best for you more than yourself, this is our life, so why would we live it for someone else? Take care of health, the spoils of internal perseverance will manifest in the form of personal wealth. In other words, just calm down, and let life work itself out. Everything is as it should be, and it’s only natural to strive for more, but to succumb to the notion that everything outside of what we have is what we need is the very definition of greed. It’s so simple that it’s easy to forget how far we’ve progressed when faced with frustration. Enjoy your problems, most of the fun in life comes from learning how to solve them! Always in a rush to achieve riches outside of ourselves when we know damn well that never actually helps. So focused on immediate reward that we forget to accommodate for our needs in the long term. In order to abstain from boredom one must make a consistent effort to constantly keep evolving, regardless of visible progres. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses, and we can either use them to our advantage or be consumed by pride in the form of willful ignorance. The truth may hurt, but the pain it inflicts teaches us how to break free. We do this to ourselves, all these injuries are self inflicted. That’s the brutal truth of human nature, we dress up our actions so that ugly reality we create has justification for existing. The issue at hand will never be solved because it was meant to be sustained, why sell a solution when the problem is what gets you paid? For all intents and purposes life is great, it’s our incessant impatience and desire to control our experience that causes us to collide and cause friction against the wheels of fate. May god be our first line of defense, not a last resort. Should the chips land in a manner that demands we question our faith, I pray that we pass our tests no matter how high the leap of faith. So caught up in the lines in between that we rarely take the time we need to properly decipher what the passages mean. Money is only a means to an end, but it seems it’s in our nature to obsess over making the ends meet. God is always great even when we don’t feel good. The real challenge isn’t to have faith, but to train oneself to maintain the same divine wavelength everyday. Our ideas serve no one else any good if we have no thourogh methods to communicate. Life is about balance, we all possess the same traits, just varying amounts of each specific aspect. Being the same in different ways is the epitome of, “same difference”. Maybe we’re just not ready to accept that while we are separate entities, we stem from the same greater projection. If we are the universe’s way of figuring itself out, maybe all this self doubt comes from getting too ahead of ourselves. How can we expect to learn how to run if we don’t be more sympathetic to ourselves when we stumble? You can be envious of anyone for anything, but that doesn’t mean that those you consider your adversaries don’t face the same struggles. By no means is this a sermon; the author is the furthest thing from a saint, but that still doesn’t mean a sinner can’t learn to make the right mistakes.
Jaan Kar kya karoge jab samjhoge hi Nahi?
how much time do you spend
convincing yourself that we’re
not supposed to be? and how
much of that time could we have
i revert to my darkest desires
when i spend too much time
in the labyrinth of my consciousness.
right now, i want to bite in to your neck
and feel your dick hit the back of my throat.
even if it’s not allowed, even if you shouldn’t
be with me, i picture my greedy hands
roaming every inch of you. i want to feel
you inside of me. i want to feel something.
What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you?
What am I supposed to say when I’m all choked up and you’re okay?
Breakeven- The Script
I feel the ache
take hold, choke
Even if I chance
it stays buried
in my bones;
whisper of misery
I can’t shake
Want to break
in the slip
that awaits my fall,
but I ne'er fold
Sip the curse
meant to drown
my soul, and spit
He laughed, and leaned in to kiss her. But her own laughter didn’t register that he was trying to kiss her until she realized she had dodged him. She saw the flicker of dissappoment in his eye, and instantly worried he wouldn’t make another move on her.
Easton was shy, she’d only ever had a few boyfriends in her life before and never had she made the first move on any of them. She felt her brain begin to over think, and forced herself to smile as she took another sip of her margarita. She had waited over a year to spend time with him, and she’d blown it she thought.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Lucas asked. He was so handsome, his short, bright red hair fit so prefectly against his complexion. The strong jaw line begged her hand to touch it. His smile made instantly her comfortable, and those blue eyes were oceans she’d wade into and sit forever.
“Mmm, I can’t believe they aren’t playing defense. I swear Carolina! Always the second half that you fuck up!” She laughed pointing to the screen.
He grinned, “You’re really into that game?”
“If you were from here, you’d be into it as wel!” Easton replied.
She hopped down from her chair, rubbing her fingers on the napkin to remove the moisture from her fingers caused by the drink. She was so nervous, she couldn’t relax.
“Where are you off too?” Lucas asked.
“Bathroom! Bladders can only hold so much tequila!” She giggled as she laid her hand on his shoulder.
Smoothly, he pulled her into his embrace, locking his warm lips against hers. Just a kiss at first, soft and wanting. She felt the butterflies in her stomach stir, and her breathing stop as she pulled her lips apart to welcome his warm tongue into her mouth, and pulling her into his heat, she felt his intensity as he kissed her harder.
“Another margarita?” The bartender asked.
She pulled away looking at the bartender and nodded yes.
“Breathe” Lucas whispered in her ear. “Just breathe, it’s okay”
i can’t believe i’m crying because of a fictional character and a fictional story. i love you iron man, always will.
. 4 The Crossroads of Destiny
The large roof and deep eaves curved into sharp, intimidating lines while the bamboo walls reflected a blue hue, a symptom of the night, as the house on the hill stood aglow before me. Motionless, crisp air burned my lungs with each inhale and smelt like the dew filled grass. The bonsai tree is unnaturally still, as if realizing the gravity of tonight. Water from the fountain gushed but it, too, seemed muted, while the full moon serenaded this tranquil visage, molding an illusion of serenity. The deafening silence is unnerving, but I’m not here to be cowed. The weight of my cold katana on my back grounds me. I’m on a mission.
After picking the lock, I entered by sliding the main door open, a pleasant woody scent filled my nose. My entrance seemed to have alerted an elderly man. He stared at me, his ridiculous, white beard curling at the end, near the collar of his indigo yukuta, trying to make out my masked face in the semi darkness. How unfortunate. For him. A quick slash from my katana and he is gone before he could make a sound. Before I could catch him, he fell with a loud thud, his throat spilling disgustingly, the copper scent of blood wafts in the air mixing with the incense. This seemed to have woken up other occupants on the ground floor. Doors slid open and men stepped out. I watch as horror fills their eyes, then understanding, then rage. One man grabs his tachi and lunges at me. Ah, wrong move. I dodge, hold my foot out and he trips and with a swift swing from me, his body jerks and he’s out like a candle. I pick up his tachi with my other hand as more men trickle in to attack me. Dodge, parry, dodge again, leap, I use the wall as a support to leap again, using my knee I plow another in his groin, and swing, he goes down thrashing wildly. I swivel and clash my swords with yet another man, who jerks back from my abrupt motions. Using his momentary distraction, I surge forth, and elbow him in the face, then under the jaw, and finally a shattering blow to ribs. Blood splutters from his mouth and he wails, and I drive my trusted katana through his heart. An agonized shriek pierced through my haze but only barely. A raging duel has broken out. Now I was fighting four men at once, all of them shouting expletives at me. The children cowered while two women threw household items at me. The men are able-bodied, athletic and burly but my smaller, quicker frame gave me an advantage of speed and efficiency. I dodge the plate thrown at me and it hits one man behind me, in the face. I swivel and cut his head cleanly off his shoulders with the tachi. A man screamed in rage and ran towards me. I moved out his way and he slams against the wall, while another man lunges toward me holding his tanto straight. I knew then it would pierce my heart. I rolled under him and kicked him from the back and his tanto went through the back of the man who was still against the wall. Horror welled in his eyes and I deftly swung my katana at his jugular. As the saying goes, ‘Hit two birds with one stone’. When the aggressive onslaught of attacks ended up hurting their own people or themselves, did the men realize what a formidable fighter I am. They are good, I admit, and they meet my expectations for a warrior family, but I, I’m a master and have been for decades. I take them all down one by one, effortlessly, my motions mechanical. Oh, these men were really good. I’m slightly out of breath, blood dribbles down my forehead and there’s an ache in my muscles. Not an issue. I move towards the remaining women and the children. The fear in their eyes and their wrenching sobs almost make me pause. Almost. Alas, it must be done. I raise both swords and swing. Blood splatters on the bamboo walls, on the tatami mat flooring and on the Shōji attached to the wooden railing. The smell is unbearable down here, sweat, blood, other bodily fluids and incense combined together create an unholy stench which should be called an assault in and of itself. Wrinkling my nose, I drop the tachi and move forward.
I scour the house for any survivors. None remain. Good. I make my way upstairs and eliminate all those hiding. Barely feeling my heart beating, I slide the door to the last room. The mother screams and shields the child with her body. One cut and she too spills crimson at my feet. And oh. How I waited and plotted and planned for this moment. The bane of my existence, stares at me with large eyes, darker than the sky. So this is the infamous “child of the prophecy”. This weakling. The child stares, I sneer back. To think this silly creature could do me harm, is frankly laughable. I raise my katana to swing, I pause and my arm drops. I lift my arm again and the sudden realization of what I’m about to do, what I just did, crashed down on me. I am hesitating. Why? I already killed the family without remorse, why is this so difficult?! The child stares and stares and I want to end him so badly, yet….
A sudden wisp of black and white smoke gathers around my feet. The child falls unconscious in his crib instantly. Yelping, I take a few steps back and hold my katana in a defensive position. Two unearthly beings, the white one a few steps ahead to my right and the black one a few steps ahead to my left. Terror strikes my heart like lightning. Was this what the prophecy meant? Is this my end? As the smoke cleared, I gasped, my sword falling with a clatter. Me?! These creatures wore my face, but no…. I can see a difference. The one on my left, was pale as the moon outside, and held a perpetual, cocky smirk, while the eyes had a glint sharper than my katana. Clothed in a kimono as pale as its skin, this creature seemed to glow, but it had a curious black spot on its forehead, in between the two milky eyes. It’s companion, however, was the opposite. Glistening, pure black skin, and an ebony kimono, made the white spot on its forehead more pronounced. It’s expression was stern, and shrewd but its shadowy eyes were watchful and old. It seemed to have sucked all the shadows around it. In essence they had my features but in different shades. As formidable as their presence felt, they created a rather bewitching sight. The being in white looks charming and enticing, a delicate elegance to its movements, while the being in black looks so divine and mesmerizing, its stature refined and striking.
“Hello Human”, the white one grinned, it’s voice-my voice but airy and seductive,“I am your Yang and this is my companion”, Yang gestured to the other,“Yin”. Yin, however did not speak, just kept me under its watchful gaze.
“Are you my punishment?” I murmured.
“No.”,Yin finally spoke, it’s voice clear and firm, “We are your conscious, and I am here to convince you to make the right choice.”
“Oh please my darling Yin, and human,” Yang adds as an afterthought, “there is only a choice and what you do with it. Right and wrong are subjective.”
Yin scoffs and rolls its eyes. Yang tiptoes over to me, each slight step made it look like it was floating rather than touching the ground. It picks up my sword, slings its arm over my shoulder and pushes my katana in my blood coated hands.
“Go ahead, do it. Kill the child, you know he’s a liability to the empire you spent ages building.” Yang whispered in my ear.
“If you have an ounce of humanity left in you will put down that sword!"roared Yin.
"You have slaughtered his family! Now he will definitely come for you because YOU put that prophecy in motion!”
“Now, now Yin, let’s not lose our tempers,” Yang soothes,“the prophecy was put in motion against our human’s judgement. No point crying over spilt milk is there? What we need now is for our human to kill-”
“ -There will be no killing.” Yin interrupts, snarling.
“We’ll see.” Yang bites back and turns to me, one arm still over my shoulder, the other forcing my katana in my hand.
“I-well-I can’t let this child live!” I sputter out. “I’ve spent over a century building it from the ashes that my father”, I spit, “caused. I cannot let my work go to waste!”
“That’s more like it!” Yang exclaims, a sharp grin dancing across its mouth.
“Not let your work go to waste!?” Yin bellows. “Surely you do realize, if you proceed you will become the same person your father was! Have you forgotten what he has done!?”
I flinch back from Yang’s words and my old scar racing down from my jugular till my heart tingles.
“You set that prophecy in motion, now you deal with the consequences that come with it.” Yin clenches its teeth and forces out, self righteous anger held with scarce restraint.
“Well, so what? Morality is dubious at best.” trills Yang, while deftly skirting around the cold body of the mother.“ Yes the prophecy is in motion and what of it? Just end the boy. There will be no issue of him, ah, 'hunting you down for sweet revenge’. Murder makes everything easier.” A sly grin appears on its face. “As you proved downstairs.”
“Enough of this. The least you can do is compensate the boy for the loss you caused. If you murder that child, will you able to live with yourself?” Yin inquires, soulful eyes knowing.
Yang comes to an abrupt halt, its face twisted, as it looks towards Yin, who hadn’t moved an inch from its position.
“Must you always complicate situations?” it sneers, then turns towards me, suddenly cold and demanding, “Human, kill that child.”
“No! Spare the child!”
“I said kill the child!”
“And I said spare the child!”
“Kill the child!”
“Spare the child!”
“Kill the child!”
“Spare the child!”
“ENOUGH!” I erupt, and fall to my knees. Tears of frustration and uncertainty well in my eyes. Both beings, taken aback, turn to look at me. I hold my head in my hands, and soon enough, sobs wreak my body, my shoulders shaking.
Yin’s lip curls as it stares down at me.
“So this is what the 'Great Leader’ does whenever faced with a difficult situation.” it sneers. “Cry.”
“I do not wish to be like my father”, I sob, my voice hoarse, “I wished for peace and security for me and my people, and then this-this prophecy came along and ruined it for me. This child-you don’t understand-this child is destined to be my fall! All that I worked so hard on, I can not let it turn to dust. I just-” my voice breaks off, gut wrenching sobs ascend to heaves.
The beings watch me carefully, quietly, none moving till I calmed down.
“Human.” Yin spoke, its voice firm and somber, thrummed in me like residual vibrations from a gigantic church bell. I lift my head. Yin and Yang stared back at me without blinking. An unnerving silence hung in the air.
“You are at the crossroads of destiny.” Yang crooned, at last. My blood smeared katana laid in front of me, a trickle of moonlight gleaming on the visible metallic parts. Yin and Yang, then speak to me, in a voice of one,
“What will you choose?”
In life we often come across crossroads, hopefully none as severe as this, in which we have to choose between desire and morality.
Yin is harsh and unyielding but the white spot on its forehead shows the good in difficulty, the emotional and mental strength it takes to do what is right. It shows the beauty of struggle and the iron fist you must wield to abide by morality.
Yang, on the other hand, is seductive, fluid and ever changing. It shifts from place to place, with a ruthless callousness and it is, often, rather flimsy. It shows the temptation of selfishness, of the desire to take and never give.
The most difficult battles, in truth, are varying shades of gray, rather than just black and white.
The ending is left open for the readers to interpret as they wish and to ask themselves the big question,
“What will YOU choose?”
Writing Prompt # 4:
“Your First Time.”
Sometimes our hearts ache for love , for companionship, for tranquility for unity, for partnership, for something deeper than this world and its okay
Sometimes my heart aches for the love of a face I know not of
Lavando trastes 😅 #ElDivanDeLea 💜
“Oh hey honey, I didn’t expect you home this-
Oh god! What happened, are you hurt?
You’re-you’re covered in blood
Honey, what’s going on?
W-why a-are you holding a knife?”
And I woke them up.
I hear his quiet breathing, I feel a twitch; he rolls over.
I go to the couch and the cat greets me with cries and cuddles.
I hear the soothing music from the little ones room. He’s awake too, but knows its too early to be up for the day.
It makes me smile and breaks my heart. So young and so grown already.
The morning is special, I hope they soothe themselves beck to sleep for as long as they can.
The neighborhood is stirring too. A car drives past; a dog chimes in.
I’m restless and thinking about his smooth skin. I give them space. Saturdays are meant to be lazy, they’re meant for sleeping in.
I’m disconnecting. Snap chat takes up too much attention, I will take the photos with me, and leave the other distractions behind.
My boys are too good to ignore. I want to be present with them again.
My man saw his friends last night. They’re stuck in high school, and we never want to go back.
Minimalism. It takes time but if we can keep peeling back the layers, we’ll be left with the fruits of our efforts.
I love them, and I can’t wait to feel them love me back.
I was so thin I used to cut up sweater sleeves to wear underneath my sweater just so my shoulders and arms didn’t look too small. I remember being made fun of a lot. Hated wearing tank tops especially jeans, I wore jeans over jeans becuse I was so skinny. It was really uncomfortable.
Summer days were the worst. I wore long sleeves and sweaters a lot because confiedence wasn’t even a thing for me. I remember this hot summer day crying, I could see everyone enjoying pool sides. I would avoid pools, beaches, and water parks you name it.
On top of all that a lot was going on around me. But I’ll soon reveal in a different post. It was hard, people were so cruel. I was a kid and felt so lost it was indescribable. Simply did not understand what was wrong with me? Always thought it was me.
I wasn’t happy until I turned 23.
Gym oh fucking gym, you are the fucking reason i’m happy now especially since I got the courage and said enough is enough i’m doing this for me, I need to love myself. Working out definitely helped a lot, especially eating portions I was supposed to be eating etc.
I’m turning 26 now
And hey I wear tank tops proudly, fucking love my arms much more everyday.
I look in the mirror with confidence.
My summer days feel better now.
The sun can now hit parts of my body I hid for so long.
It feels so good. So fucking good….. I haven’t wrote anything personal like this and can’t wait to share more. I FUCKING LOVE MYSELF! FUCK!
Experience is the best teacher there is but why do we have to pay a price, so huge that it breaks us? 😞