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#new prose
forlornalbatross · 14 days ago
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A year has it been that my body rested upon the roof of this place. Mutable , I have been too accustomed to change & of countless relocation around town , city , country that every place seems to be so temporary to me.
My ex lover of 12 years said to me before we departed that I was never a tree , I was just this leaf as the wind came & blew me from one corner to another but truthfully I am a river. I float. Three years after I was born my parents finished their degree & moved back to their motherland. In my parents’ motherland , I have lost count of how many houses we moved into due to circumstances like their jobs or family issues with their extended family or both. Then the war came & we were relocated to another country followed by different cities , states & territories. Finally , we settled in Sydney. But the cycle of moving was never stopping. I have felt I lived everywhere in Sydney. All suburbs I could still remember their postcodes. Eventually , it got carried away again to another country & back & forth for me like I was this homeless woman without a place of my own. I have a house , but never a home. I have a studio or apartment but never a home. One time I thought with my ex lover that we found a home in the last house before we broke up , of which I stayed the longest 5 years as the rest only known for under 3 or 2 years. I’m angry at the word alone or lonely because it has been so overused that it irks me to my bone. I wanted to have a different verbatim than the rest of the living thing. I am different , I know that & I’ve always loved that different part of me to my deepest core. But I am alone yet I have never felt the loneliness within that aloneness because I may be alone but never lonely. Lockdown has ended over here. I wanted to have a break from this primary blog just to found myself lingering on my secondary / altered ego blog. I felt more me there. I realised that I have enjoyed the kindness of everyone who is here thus since I am going back to work this week , I thought might as well return to the habitation of which I found joy in. That small entry perhaps was a background story or maybe it's just a starting point again to say that , I am alright. That I’ve moved around all my life like a homeless woman without a permanent postcode , a place to truly be resting my weary body — but I’ve survived it. The adversity of my suffering will persevere. I hope of more gentleness for as long as I live. Because in a world where everything seems to have that "too hard to get" slogan , I would want to hope that my sincerity is easily existing & not just some false myth portrayed.
D C de Oliveira | Text October 12 2021, Tuesday 8.20am (tempus editae)
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Maybe he found it in his heart to pick you up and shower you with love. Did he use the same line? Did his fingers dance across your thigh as you gazed out at the horizon? I know the songs he’s whispering in your ear. He did that with me, too. I wonder if he gets déjà vu as he walks you to your car at three a.m. I wonder if he gets a sharp pain in his chest when he remembers how he left me.
Sweet girl, your heart is worth more than this. Your own James Dean doesn’t love you. He’ll get bored, he’ll make promises he can’t keep, and you can’t think any of it is your doing, because it’s not. You’ll lose too much sleep, waste too many tears pining after him. I know I did. I remember the fear, the distrust that seeped into my bloodstream when he left without saying goodbye, went off to find another pawn in his game. Who would have known that poor girl would be you?
Don’t forget I used to be you, young and open-minded. Naïve and hopeful, waiting for a handsome prince to come and save me. He told me he wasn’t a prince, and I thought he was lying… but that might have been the only honest thing he said to me. He was just a devil in disguise, tugging at my heartstrings with delicate fingers, making sure I didn’t feel the pain until he disappeared in a cloud of dust.
Maybe you think he’s different now, but you and I both know that he won’t change. His eyes will still gleam like the devil’s, teeth will still drip with a venom so sweet you’ll be hooked on it like a brand-new drug. Maybe that’s what you want. I know I did, until he threw me to the curb like yesterday’s trash.
So run away from that run-down Ford. It’ll only drive you to the entrance of hell. You won’t come back. He’ll make sure to knock you down and clip your wings before he hightails it back to whatever pedestal he resides on now. He won’t turn his head to be sure you’re just how you’re supposed to be. He’ll push you out of his mind like that cloud of dust behind that silver Miata. You were nothing to him before. You’ll be nothing again.
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firimar · 2 years ago
I cannot believe more people don’t know about this play, this is a small production of the play.
The Love and Death Trilogy written by Emily C.A. Snyder is a series of new verse plays, that follows Cupid, the god of Love, from the innocence of the world through to its fall...and restoration.  Comprised of Persephone Rises, The Seduction of Adonis and Cupid and Psyche, the full trilogy is currently in development with Turn to Flesh Productions.  The third play, Cupid and Psyche ( performed to sold-out New York City audiences for Valentine's 2014.
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kitsdod · 3 years ago
thoughts that run before you can walk
The miracle of the mind is that thoughts run as rapid as a raging river. Embrace it and it shall offer you everything it has. Train it and soon your ideas will form a thousand time faster than a bullet through the air, inflicting bursts of creativity over your canvas. Lean into your thoughts and have them support you, carry you, change your every move and mentality for a few blissful seconds as the rapids overwhelm you. Feel your eyes stare out to a world they no longer see as the intensity of your daydream takes a hold of your nerves. A sensless, fabricated idea that makes no sense to you is now whispering to you, encouraging you to just go. Run. Nothing should stop you if nothing stops your thoughts. Spread them, splatter them up walls and scribble them onto a thousand sheets of paper. Let the ideas take over before they disappear. They are yours and you are theirs. Let them guide you. Don’t ever think twice when creativity strikes.
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a-moonlit-poet · 22 days ago
I looked into the mirror
I didn't see myself.
I saw the person
who has seen a lot more
than I ever did.
I saw the scars;
which others found fake.
I saw all the pain
which others call mistakes.
I traced my fingers over the wounds
that no longer hurt.
The dried up blood
from the deep cuts of bloody words.
I devoured the eyes
which are tired yet beautiful.
I tasted the lips,
which are hiding some unspoken truth.
I love her.
I love the person she has become.
I fell in love
With the flaws that make her.
All her imperfections
That slowly builds her up.
She is everything
I ever hoped to be.
And also someone
I could never ever be.
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drunk-on-writing · 9 months ago
20 things i learned in 2020
(inspired by shannon barry)
at a moment’s notice, in the blink of an eye, from one second to another, everything can change. there’s no preparing for it sometimes. just accepting it. 
being apart doesn’t mean we lack togetherness; there are a multitude of ways to forge connection with someone aside from physically being with them.
it really is the little things -- never underestimate just how healing a warm walk or reading a good book can be.
empathy is still a foreign concept to many so surround yourself with people who care about more than just themselves.
just because the world stopped spinning for a few months, doesn’t mean time stopped moving; the months may have bled into each other but that doesn’t mean we were living in an endless march - october still came and it blessed us with orange leaves and crisp skies. july brought the fireworks it promised it would. december still came with christmas. it may have felt different, but it was still there.
don’t be afraid to stand up when others are telling you to sit down; don’t be afraid to shout when others are telling you to be quiet.
the people in your corner will save you in more ways than one and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be saving them too.
you don’t need a reason to do your makeup or wear a fancy dress. look like you’re going to prom in your backyard, eat mcdonald’s with your face beat. who cares? “just because” is always reason enough.
that thing you’ve always wanted to try? do it. instead of starting your thoughts with “what if i” or “i could just” -- do it. nothing’s holding you back except for you.
the world will turn upside down in more ways than one and you are going to turn with it; all you can do is hold on tight and go with the flow. 
it’s okay to be scared, it’d be scarier if you weren’t. 
injustice doesn’t stop because the world stopped; hatred will always be loud and ugly and it’s up to us to turn that pain into promise through education and action.
being alone doesn’t have to be lonely. learn to fall in love with spending time with yourself. 
we’re all connected in ways we never realized and we affect each other’s lives in more ways than we’ll ever truly understand. we’re all connected someway, somehow. 
just because it seems like everyone else is hustling, doesn’t mean you have to as well. move at you’re own pace. 
don’t stop taking pictures just because things are ugly now; one day, you’ll look back and be glad you did. 
we haven’t lived through a chapter of a US history textbook -- we are still living through one. just because the page is turning doesn’t mean everything is changing. be patient. 
you’re allowed to just be. you’re allowed to just exist. 
don’t stop chasing happiness just because it’s harder to get a hold of.
keep trying. keep fighting. keep loving. keep living.
(cc, 2020)
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thoughtkick · a month ago
I get way too sensitive when I get attached to someone. I can detect the slightest change in the tone of their voice, and suddenly I’m spending all day trying to figure out what I did wrong.
Humans of New York - Amman, Jordan
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ryawrites · 15 hours ago
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a/n: wrote a quick something on insomnia at 3am in the morning, I hope you guys like it!
do not repost
taglist & transcript under the cut
“He lays by the foot of my bed,
gazing at me with patience in his eyes,
I yearn to yell and yell,
but to me, sleep is a collective of lies.
He keeps me up at night, 
and keeps the end of my bed warm,
when the sun sets and the world quietens,
I'm trapped with my insomnia keeping me on my toes.
Ignoring him was useless,
blankets huddled on top of each other,
held a tired me beneath,
and yet I couldn't sleep.
I've counted thousands of sheep,
which travel to faraway lands,
and each time they come home,
my insomnia shoos them away,
and holds me close.
My insomnia is a jealous lover,
he hates the soft and motherly touches of sleep,
as she lets me travel to lands beyond the sea,
his jealousy igniting fear in my eyes,
as he doesn't let her have me until the dawn of the day.
At the dawn of the day is when she'll have me,
he leaves a tainted kiss on my cheek,
vowing to always return,
to hold me close once the night begins. 
My insomnia has chained me in a prison,
as the night pities me, as the day yearns for me,
the way I yearn for it too,
to wake up surrounded by yellow beams,
would sadly be left as nothing but a dream.”
@ryawrites @scintillatea™
taglist:- @shybrunettepainter @thatchicavai @thisisour-lastdance @just-wordsandthoughts @i-love-books-and-i-cannot-lie @adoginthemanger @thehottestmess @rainbowsnowflake @pardadaari @natashxromanovf @a-plucked-flower @ohyoumeanher @zephyr-thefwoggy-likes-sandwich @steamedmomos @zehenaseeb @hanirii @fatpotatosaysmoo @thesexypanda-boo @ghost-inacup @pari-prince @guerrera-3010 @exqviseit @i-wanna-b-yours @jugn00 @mydogisgaytoo @crazy-as-hell @here-always-and-forever @carstairrs @rebelliousrochelle @arcane-verses @neurogliadudette
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jamerasjournal · a month ago
I need someone that loves me thoroughly. Through and through the easy and the hard. Someone who is unconditionally compassionate towards me. So that my heart may find rest. So that I can dwell in safety. I need true kindness and support. I need to bathe in their honesty, sip from their reassurance. I need effortless celebration of the glory of who I am. I need to be gripped firmly, not tightly. No noise, no chaos. Balance. Ease. Healing. Reception. Through and through.
-jamera naquai | Through & Through
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forlornalbatross · 14 days ago
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October 12 2021 | Tuesday . 8.20am (tempus editae)
D C de Oliveira | Text
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stormsofartemis · a month ago
I have fallen in love with people too many times— no, not romantically— more like from a window, a thin sheet of glass between us, in a soft golden hour light. I have secretly dedicated a space in my heart for the people who aren't afraid to speak in colors, those that sweeten their coffee or tea with poetry, the rivers running toward their seas, the cold hands drawing warmth from the words of dead writers, the ones with music in their veins, those who walk their roads to the rhythm of Vivaldi's Spring, the passionate ones, the lovers, the children of art...
— autumn artemis | journal entry
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perfectquote · 3 months ago
I get way too sensitive when I get attached to someone. I can detect the slightest change in the tone of their voice, and suddenly I’m spending all day trying to figure out what I did wrong.
Humans of New York - Amman, Jordan
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a-moonlit-poet · a month ago
First Love
I may have loved you
way more than I thought I would.
But your sudden touches
lightened the senses that I thought loathed.
You are here
yet; I miss you
Holding you close
so no one can have you.
I stroked your curves
you will break if I'll let go.
Guiding you slowly
so that I can enjoy your beauty.
You are a dream that came true.
You made me into someone
everyone looks up to
Promise me you won't let go.
There's a long run we both have to go.
Your shadow forever stayed
when the Sun drowned
and my dark side rose.
And you still loved
the person I once abhorred.
I fell in love with words because they made me love myself first.
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enigmaspoetry · 2 months ago
it feels weird and sad, you know? when you have shared such giggles with someone that you know everything about them, yet do not know the reason why you fell apart. you know their rainbows, their rain, their sunny days, and their cold winter but now you're stuck in the fall and it feels like autumn is never coming back. the hands that once grooved you to soft beats do not dare to make you smile anymore. and when you read those old conversations, you bury your head in a pillow and call yourself stupid, but the heart still beats. it never stops. time moves quickly slipping out of your hands when you read their words, and you keep reading. you want time to slip letters under your door by their name and you want autumn, and you want to be that stupid again because you realize stupidity is not fun unless there's a person to prove that it's not stupid to love someone.
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