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the-wisewriter ยท 3 years
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I have so much confidence speaking to a void on social media yet it all disappears as soon as I know someone is listening
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the-wisewriter ยท 3 years
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Look closelyโ€ฆ. WHO do you see in these photos? Have you ever met her?
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This is the person I want to beโ€ฆ or rather this person that I feel I am
What I could be
What I what to be
But Iโ€™m too scared
I lack the strength and Iโ€™ve been pushed into this box of normalcy
But I hate whatโ€™s normal and I want to be free
I want to be me
The Taurus and Mediator in me screams to do it
Iโ€™m terrified
I donโ€™t want change but I want this
I want to taste cherry lips
I want to stand at the top of a sky scraper
I want an endless car ride through the cities and country sides
I need more, I need life
Yet Iโ€™m stuck
Stuck under this roof
Iโ€™m still loved
Iโ€™m happy
Iโ€™m okay
But I sometimes I want more
I want to dye my hair
I want to change my clothes
I want to speak different
I want to be that girl that seems so free
I have no reason other than this attraction of a seemly magical world
Who wouldnโ€™t chase a wild dream?
A dream of freedom, of love
One that ignores the hate and all the problems with this world
One where your purpose is not your career but is love and is the experiences you gather before Deathโ€™s gate
Alas my voice once again will be sunken in the deepest sea of silence
I have no purpose here except to speak my mind into this voids
So hello I guess
I want to live a fantasy
I dream of the impossible
And I wish to be a truer me
How about you, my friend?
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the-wisewriter ยท 3 years
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โ€œWe often want it so badly that we ruin it before it begins. Overthinking. Fantasizing. Imagining. Expecting. Worrying. Doubting. Just let it naturally evolveโ€
โ€” Unknown
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the-wisewriter ยท 3 years
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Cโ€™est beau
Donโ€™t call me a late bloomer Donโ€™t imply to me And everyone else That there was a mark And I missed it Because bold of you to assume That I have not already bloomed That I have not blossomed beautifully Just because I preferred leaves to flowers And grew into my tree Instead of your rose
-Sparrow
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the-wisewriter ยท 3 years
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Shor๐•ฅ Stor๐•ช:
This is an essay I wrote for an English assignment. The assignment was to write a personal experience that happened to you and โ€œexplode the moment,โ€ by using imagery and description to expland and slow down the moment. Happy reading!
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Photo credit: Pixabay
You guys, wait for me!โ€
I chased after them. Swing and twist, jump and laugh as they climbed the tree. I began to wonder if my friends were perhaps reincarnations of those silly and curious primates that live in the jungles. No fear seemed to hide behind their gleeful smiles, as if they didnโ€™t need to be fearful of the tragic accident that could take place if they were to simply misjudge the weight a branch was able to support. But as nerve-racking as it was to watch, there was an almost graceful appeal to the freedom that let them escape the natural instincts that screamed at me to get down. I want to be free from that fear too.
I felt a shift in weight, and then the next second I didnโ€™t feel anything of all. My vision blurred and the sudden shouts that rang in my ears faded. I opened my mouth to let out a small gasp before I descended into nothingness. Is this what falling feels like? All my senses had been turned off with the simple flick of a switch. I felt nothing. I feel nothing. I simply did not exist. I was in a void of neverending blackness. A place that you will stay forever, however in reality itโ€™s only half a second. Most would say their life flashed before their eyes in such a moment, but I did not see anything. I did not see, hear, or feel anything. In the void, nothing exists except you and your consciousness.
Gradually, I became aware of my surroundings once again, the first thing I noticed was bark that dug into the palms of my hands, and the strain I felt up and down my arms. I tilted my head upwards and saw the object that I grasped, it was the very same branch that I had been standing on only a second ago and where my hands instead desperately latched onto. I tilted my head once again to look down and saw my toes a mere few inches off the ground. What happened? Then I realized. I had slipped and I had fallen. The only reason I wasnโ€™t on the ground was because my body had taken a split second to grab the branch out of pure instinct. The air filled with silence and no one spoke. Only when I felt a faint pain shoot my arm did I decide to let go. I landed softly; only a few leaves crumpled underneath my feet. But once again, no one spoke. No one dared to move another inch as we let the shock set in. We just looked at each other with wide eyes. A few more seconds passed until someone spoke.
โ€œAre you okay?โ€
It is to say, I most certainly did not attempt climbing another tree for years after. Eventually, I did though. I never can go past the branch from which I fell, but I donโ€™t care. I am content with watching siblings and friends climb the highest branches, while I watch from afar. I donโ€™t see it as an irrational fear, I see it as rational more than anything. I always had that instinct in me to stay safe on the ground, so I am simply just listening to that instinct and not ignoring it like everyone else.
The End
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the-wisewriter ยท 3 years
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BLACK OUT POEM: Sunny Days
source: โ€œOnce More to the Lakeโ€ by E. B. White
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Actual Poem (in case image fails to load):
Individual Shadow in the dusty field
The road was missing and the choice was to lay there in the sun
Alleys were green
The place was one of time
The illusion was indelible, unshatterable, and innocent
Authors Note: I would show you the actual blackout picture, but it doesnโ€™t look that good so hereโ€™s just the poem. This was just for a quick English Assignment, which is why it isnโ€™t my best work, sorry.
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the-wisewriter ยท 3 years
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i am asked about my favorite color.
i am seven
and my reply is
pink
because i am a girl
and pink
is a princess color.
i am asked about my favorite color.
i am ten
and i like
green
because a boy told me that pink
is lame and girly.
i am asked about my favorite color.
i am thirteen
and i tell them
purple
it is unique and spunky
like i want to be.
i am asked about my favorite color.
i am seventeen
and i just say
red
i do not say
it is bright and angry at the world
as i am
i cannot form the words to express
all of my frustrations
so i paint my lips with
rage.
i am asked about my favorite color.
i am twenty
and itโ€™s pink
i remember the joy
of being a child
i reclaim the freedom
of femininity
because i cannot remember
what my shoulders felt like
before the depression
hung from them.
i am asked about my favorite color.
i am twenty-six
and my answer is
brown
it confuses most people
they donโ€™t see it
they may think of dirt
and dust
and dead things
but it is coffee with friends
and the chocolate chip cookies
my mom used to make.
it is my hair
and my eyes
amber and gold
in the sun
and i love myself
again
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the-wisewriter ยท 3 years
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โš ๏ธ WARNING MILD MULAN (2019) AND THE WITCH OF BLACKBIRD POND SPOILERS โš ๏ธ
DISCUSSION: False Accusations of Witches
I just finished watching Mulan the live action film. It was truly a work of art but there was this one scene that caught my attention. The scene where Mulan fought her enemies with her identity revealed. The enemies saw her, a woman and warrior, and their reaction... the enemies screamed โ€œwitch!โ€ and ran, utterly terrified of her. They feared her. They saw a woman with power and they were scared of it. It makes you think: why did men truly fear a โ€œwitchโ€? Why must you fear this power if you think you are strong, and superior? If you are all so powerful and superior to women, why must you fear a woman when she equals you or dare I say may even surpasses you?
After this scene I then reflected upon the time I read The Witch of Blackbird Pond, remembering how some characters were often accused of being a witch when they just werenโ€™t perfect. If they did not behave the way they were expected to behave, then accusations could be made and terrible fates could potentially fall onto these women. How is it that a woman is suddenly a witch when she does not behave in the way that she expected to by society?
Iโ€™ve wondered if these false accusations of witches were really just a way for men to oppress women.
Whatโ€™s even more interesting they never tried to work with the โ€œwitchโ€ they automatically saw them as too powerful and dangerous. They were โ€œwickedโ€. If a being, that was oh so powerful, lives in your village, wouldnโ€™t you want to befriend them? How is it that these witches just canโ€™t be reasoned with and must be brutally murdered?
Now you may ask: what does this have to do with modern age? Well, let me tell you this discussion does indeed apply today. Sexist still exists whether you choose to believe it or not. Itโ€™s still present in the workplace despite how far the we have come. I implore you to question, regardless of who you are nor your gender, why were women REALLY falsely accused of witchcraft pre-modern times?
And you could even further the question: why was the idea of powerful but evil women, we call witches, created to haunt the minds of the uneducated (past and present) and our fairy tales?
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the-wisewriter ยท 3 years
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Poem: We Waste
Our lives
โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”
Time passes away
What life did I just waste?
Years slipped away
Did you enjoy it?
It may be taken from you any moment
Yet you continue to stand
Continue to listen
Continue to withhold your voice
You donโ€™t even give yourself a chance
To be drowned out by the other voices
You just stay silent
You wasted a life
It could have been wasted regardless
But nevertheless you didnโ€™t even try
โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”
Authorโ€™s Note:
First post so donโ€™t judge
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