He called, and yet for some reason, I'm not smiling like before

I wrote this. I DID. Aaaaaaaand the stupidity continues as I browse through everything I wrote for this blog.

Wanderlust

This is an excerpt from a wattpad story. A fanfiction about two singers.

There is no cure for unrequited love. It’s a disease that weakens your heart in indescribable ways. Watching the person you love love someone else — seeing them so happy without a single trace of you in their mind — is enough to take your life. You would say that it’s destroying your heart, but the fact of the matter is that that heart isn’t yours to destroy. It hasn’t  been since the day you fell in love with them. Unrequited love is a cancerous sickness, and you only know you’re ill when you feel yourself dying.
And it’s typical. The hardest things to let go are the things you never had.

This took a lot of strength to write.

He called. Tonight. He called.

I texted him, you see.

There are certain people whom you know…

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Day 286: The Man and the Spoken Verse; ‘Fry’

For poets; their audience… And those who understand that art is supposed to make you feel.

I write, I bleed.
You see the wounds,
And bleed with me.

I write, I laugh.
You hear the joy,
And rejoice with me.

Happiness at its best
Or happiness at its worst,
Life is my poem…
And words are my medium.

manvsloneliness

I’ll be honest with you.

I have a very complicated love/hate relationship with spoken word poetry.

In the sense that I love really good spoken word.

And that I absolutely hateloathedespise really bad spoken word.

And unfortunately, the vast majority of current spoken word is really really bad. So I hate more, and nowadays, hate by default.

BUT…there are a few glimpses of hope. Some rays of sunshine. Some good examples that, I don’t know if it’s because of the muck that they are surrounded with or the true merit of their extraordinary talents, really do blow my mind.

When I was first introduced to spoken word I was just in awe of the emotion and animation that spoken word poets brought to a normally quiet and subdued art. Poetry was something you wrote and read in your mind, or in hushed tones, or in quiet…

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I don’t usually write about politics…

How did this happen? Who’s to blame? Well certainly there are those who are more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable. But again, truth be told…if you’re looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror.
– V

Cristian Mihai

How did this happen? Who’s to blame? Well certainly there are those who are more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable. But again, truth be told…if you’re looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror.

Last night, the Romanian government issued a decree de-criminalizing the abuse of power and corruption if the damage is less than $50,000. This is not a joke. They made it legal for public officials to steal, while also giving amnesty to those who have been convicted of such crimes in the past. That means a lot of politicians will be getting out of jail. Oh, and the head of the governing party would have been convicted were it not for this decree.

Cool, huh?

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ASL, PLEASE?

I can relate to this. In ways I never actually knew until she explained what it meant to her (her virtual friends).
Virtual reality, is reality too.
Not the one we would have hoped, but for some, it is as real as whatever is in front of you right now!
I hope you have fun reading this, my friends!

Candles Online

Her: Hi
Him: Hey There
Her: ASL, please?
Him: How are you doing?
Her: Is that your ASL?
Him: NO, but age is just a number
Her: Well, I am 27, I am from Delhi
Him: WOW, a Delhi girl, today is my lucky day
Her: You a flirt?
Him: No, just an average man, 28/US. But I was a Delhite too once
Her: Oh, were you? I am a dancer
Him: Gawd, Can this day get any better?
Her: Yes, if you are a Guitarist
Him: You never know, I could be
Her: LOL, are you? Seriously ?
Him: Nah, I can’t even hold one correctly, though I tried, sincerely
Her: You know, I know that feeling, I worked hard to learn Piano, but no luck
Him: I have a feeling we can be good friends….
Her: I have that feeling too…..’

This is how it starts every time…

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And the Bad Poets

No words. Literally. Because the stars, as lovely as they are, have now become ugly.

Bralowski

By Zachary D’mitri

perhaps

not bad,

but uninspired,

write about

how we’re beautiful

because we’re all made of stars.

And I think,

you stone cold

fucking prodigy.

You marvel.

You bright, shining

son of a bitch.

Only a brilliant genius

could turn the stars ugly.

©zacharyd’mitripoetry

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