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#spilled words
thereignclub · a day ago
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THE CHECKLIST
To live the life you desire
For your body
Drink a glass of lemon water
Take your vitamins
Go for a morning walk
Eat a colorful plant based meal
Try a new form of movement
Stretch for 10 minutes
Take a cold shower
Immerse yourself in the sun
Stay hydrated throughout the day
Apply a face mask
Breathe deeply and with intention for 5 minutes
For your mind
Read a book
Clean out your closet
Have a phone free morning/night
Rearrange your room
Listen to a podcast
Write down what you are grateful for
Establish your morning and evening ritual
Plan your day
Try something for the first time
Watch a ted talk
For your soul
Meditate
Watch the sunrise or sunset
Spend time outside and in nature
Say no without explanation
Connect with someone you miss
Wash your bedding
Read or write poetry
Plant a garden or buy a plant
Greet a stranger
Do something that makes you laugh
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wedarkacademia · a day ago
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“Some people are born to make great art and others are born to appreciate it. … It is a kind of talent in itself, to be an audience, whether you are the spectator in the gallery or you are listening to the voice of the world's greatest soprano. Not everyone can be an artist. There have to be those who witness the art, who love and appreciate what they have been privileged to see.” ― Ann Patchett, Bel Canto
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secretlywanderlust · 2 days ago
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An apology to my notebook: "I’m sorry I haven’t seen you in a while, it’s just that I’ve finally been happy. You know I only tend to visit you when I’m feeling down. I’ve found someone who cares for me and loves me. He’s all I’ve ever dreamed about. Maybe I’ll start writing about the good things, but you know that I like to keep those for myself. I hope you’re happy for me."
Excerpt from a book I’ll never write, 122 “An apology to my notebook”
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glasswaters · 2 days ago
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content creator
what am i, to the search function? what is my bleeding heart, my calloused hands, the sob in the gap between my ribs and my lungs, to the ticking of the reblog count?
i post art. i refresh my activity page every five minutes for three days, aching for engagement. a wordless reblog. a like from a bot. are you going to publish your writing, asks my coworker when I tell her that I am a poet. 
I am, I say. I send my finished writing to my friends. #timezone reblog. look at me. look at my art.
look at my content. i post content to be nestled in between memes and asks. at the wrong time, perhaps. with the wrong tags, perhaps. i post content, I-
engage with me.
what is content, without an audience? what is an artist, if not content? what, to the algorithm, is poetry not reblogged within x hours?
recommended for you: an artist’s pleading cry. another’s lifetime.
after all, what is content unmanaged? what is an artist not posting on twitter, on tumblr, on instagram, carefully relatable, polished humanity? are you not a content creator? are you not that which chokes your own art before it ever leaves your palms so it might be worth a share?
- tick, tick, tick, goes the engagement counter. tick, tick, tick, goes the clock. come. consume me.
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londonfromparis · a day ago
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I truly hope that one day you’ll be able to forgive yourself. You were never hard to love - you just always felt so responsible for those around you that I don’t think you ever stopped to take care of yourself. I loved you so much - but I just couldn’t be the one to fix you.
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candle · 2 days ago
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— Landscape with Fate in the Wreckage, Tara Fae
[ID: image reads:
“Landscape with Fate in the Wreckage
landscape of the road changed forever.
only so much light one person can take.
the summer, and the burning. found god
in the highway mirage, then tasted asphalt.
this, too, has lines which, when crossed, signify
closure. gravel underneath skin.
grazes don’t fade in memory. memory that fades
awaits recognition, even when it turns to fiction.
at what point does memory become fiction? what line is there?
no lines, just grazes. highway mirage,
just a mirage. no god to be found in asphalt.
only so much light before it becomes burning.
fire has no colour, just heat.
still, fire is red. another fiction.
at the heart of the flame there is shadow.
at the heart of the fire there is burning. only so much
light one can take. landscape changed forever.
another fiction.
landscape changed until you blink.
landscape changed until you blink.
wreck on the road until someone takes it away.
this, too, has lines which, when crossed, stain.
sun in the sky until we turn slightly too far.
flames in the sky until there aren’t.
sky, fiction anyway.
corpse on the road until it isn’t.
this, too, has lines which, when crossed,
fade altogether.
sun in the sky until we turn away.
flowers by the highway mirage. a cross without faith.
asphalt in the mouth until there is no mouth.
god in the mirage until the fiction fades.
god on the ground until the fiction fades.
god in the wreckage until the fiction
fades.” END ID]
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iambrillyant · a day ago
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“december, spill warmth into parts of me that have turned cold. speak loud enough to silence my fears, but clearly enough to hear my intuition. may i move into new phases with grace, so i can create beautiful gardens from space vacated by what is no longer for me. be bountiful.”
— iambrillyant
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soulwr1ter · 2 days ago
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I hope
That everyday
Is a little easier
For you than
The day
That came before
And that eventually
You will no longer
Feel the strain
Of the weight
On your shoulders
That you carried.
-J.Wool, Easier, Soul Whispers
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was-bleibt-der-zeit · 21 hours ago
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Das tiefe Ineinandertauchen braucht Farben und Seele…
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deadlypoetacademia · a day ago
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reading something too relatable and getting goosebumps and out of blue saying "exactly!!". Like, how does everyone know everything about my life except me.
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praggya1993 · a day ago
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Some people turn into stories
That rest like fairytales
In our memories,
Long ago magic which is difficult
To believe in,
The time spent with them
Turns into mist that remains briefly
In early mornings,
As the sun shafts pierce our trance
The only place
Where we can find them in.
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small-town--r · 2 days ago
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I yern to be
in your embrace.
Surround by arms
of love.
Planted in the soul
that mates to mine.
Captivated, reserved,
within seas of love.
Drowning in waves
of desire.
Distance to a halt
a gap between
what's meant to be.
Miles away
as a drifter
seeking a secure
position.
Put into effect
the access
to your heart.
Denied or accepted?
Deal the card of fate.
R.A.
394
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euesworld · a day ago
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"The world is still beautiful in the winter, it's just a little bare but that is what I do.. I bare my soul to you."
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It's slim pickin's out there now, haha.. but I'm trying to show the world how it is and it's still beautiful - eUë
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