Part of a comic strip I was making, absolutely love black and white as colors.
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Wandering alone.
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Artist Fear #0005
Forgetting which color makes what while painting and making brown or grey accidentally.
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Artist Fear #0004
The lead in a pencil breaking mid sharpening.
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Artist Fear #0003
Forgetting where you last put favorite drawing utensil
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Artist Fear #0002
Ink bleeds through paper and makes a hole.
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Artist Fear #0001
Dropping a drawing pencil and the pencil lead breaks.
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Dreaming is time traveling
Perhaps you will find yourself back in
your childhood home,
with a loved one no longer,
a younger self, innocent and unburdened
Or perhaps you will visit the city of Macaw
A city that does not exist
at least in your times
But you see it still through the vagueness
A splendor you've never seen
An image evoking beauty and grandeur
Instilling feelings of amazement capable
of bringing tears to your eyes
Oh how desperate we may cling to these dreams while knowing
Like fact separating from fiction
Like all dreams day or night, and like all time traveling machines
We open our eyes and find ourselves,
Home, home in our present timeline
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Beauty
Beauty is Immaculate
Worship it
The concept
The belief
Without having the thought
That defines your beauty
you will find
that Beauty is immaculate
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I have white wall aesthetic.
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Boxes of Brown
Boxes upon boxes of brown
I stacked them up and frowned
Inside, hid old memories and new memories
Built behind invisible walls of allegories
I witnessed tragedy in the way experiences speak
To all in kind, at our peaks
I visited an empire centered around a conviction
And I heard their words, and believed in the freedom of diction
But the message they wrought
Twisted and changed and everyone forgot
What really was the lesson
And the motivating reason
That the King of Ideas ardently taught
About a kind of civilization that bought
Only the kind of freedom that came
From a long, long repeated history of pain
Boxes and boxes of brown
I dug and dug deeper down
Holes to bury the unpopular legends
Then filled them with dirt, hoping to mend
All the missing words, the unfinished sentences
Sadly, my eyes can’t read through broken lenses
For even truth comes with lies
And behind these boxes, it loves to hide
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How Long
Started crawling at the age of 12
Didn’t really know why I existed
But like other kids, wanted to find out
Talking at the age of 19
Never did know what I wanted to say before
I understood what my words really meant
Standing at the age of 21
That’s when I started learning how to be independent
Not just relying on my momma or dadda
Walking at the age of 25
Chasing my dream, feel’in old but
I know I’m young
cuz’ no matter how long time keeps passing
I always keep asking myself
“How long until I become an adult?”
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Here in your Life
My dear there comes a time
When in your life, you will think
About all your crimes
Done in a blink
Of hasty judgement and emotion
But fret not my dear
For learning is the solution
To earning the late forgiveness of your peers
And my dear,
Even if you’ve wronged me
Never fear
Because I’ll always be
.
.
.
Here
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The Gates
Striding in, I looked for an exit
This place was not where
I wanted to stop
I had escaped, but what had I opened?
The gates to my last thoughts
An abandoned castle, the unseen tribute
To the ill, the damned, the unspoken
All lay here, to the gates I opened
And what remained past was
What I had escaped
But what I had escaped was much
More pleasant in comparison than what I faced
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Black Window
I sat down by a black window
Your figure passing by
Wistful thinking, as I sat idly
Loneliness accompanied me
The door opened, a breath of mint
Came in, and I looked over
At your figure stopped by
Strangers we were
Separated by a black window
Met by circumstance
Our loneliness agreed
That for us it would be the best
If we acknowledged it with
A wordless smile, an
Empty face but hey if I had to be
honest, then I could have sworn
That for a split moment,
Happiness accompanied me
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Haiku-(01);[God Complex]
They believe in God
I thanked them for becoming
My life’s greatest fans
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Title
So I made something
To my own surprise
(-)
Built out of tears
and years of strife
(-)
I showed my momma
who said, “son ..”
(-)
“You really gotta ..”
“get a life.”
(-)
But gods don’t stop
When the story ends
(-)
‘Cause the legend
keeps continuing if they’re in
(-)
The rolling world they created
The life that I’ve been
(-)
Creating and controlling
How it spins
(-)
...
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