Fascination is the result of your curiosity level. If you're a dead bored corpse, walking around contemplating suicide, nothing will fascinate you as much as maybe Blue Whale. But if you're an excited bubble of joy floating from soap to finger, you'll get to touch another being, burst into a new form, dive through thin air and become rain and its bows and its vapour and its moss. So much transformation would cover at least 5 human reincarnations. So stop routine dying. Start multidimensional living. There's just too much out there that they refuse to make ads for.
There is a voice inside of you, that whispers all day long, "I feel this is right for me, I know that this is wrong." No teacher, preacher, parent, friend or wise man can decide what's right for you. Just listen to the voice that speaks inside.
Thursday, 27 December 2018
Live life
Fascination is the result of your curiosity level. If you're a dead bored corpse, walking around contemplating suicide, nothing will fascinate you as much as maybe Blue Whale. But if you're an excited bubble of joy floating from soap to finger, you'll get to touch another being, burst into a new form, dive through thin air and become rain and its bows and its vapour and its moss. So much transformation would cover at least 5 human reincarnations. So stop routine dying. Start multidimensional living. There's just too much out there that they refuse to make ads for.
Wednesday, 10 October 2018
Saturday, 9 June 2018
Worthless
She sat in her room staring at the wall
Knowing she could never be anything more than worthless.
Tears escaping her bloodshot eyes,
She replayed the memories one last time.
Digging the blade deep into her skin,
She hid her pain and sat there broken and torn.
Wishing she could go back to being that
Once bright and happy soul he loved.
But she will soon become a shell.
A shell no one loves, no one cares about.
Behind closed doors she cried herself to sleep.
Tears burning rivers into her face
Cuts opening pathways to her soul
She wished if he could just come back to her.
She hoped he read this and realize that the girl he loved once, wrote this
while fighting back tears and memories.
She sat here writing her feelings into this poem.
Spilling the words onto a word doc,
wondering whether he is also awake thinking of her.
Tears escaping her bloodshot eyes,
She replayed the memories one last time.
Digging the blade deep into her skin,
She hid her pain and sat there broken and torn.
Wishing she could go back to being that
Once bright and happy soul he loved.
But she will soon become a shell.
A shell no one loves, no one cares about.
Behind closed doors she cried herself to sleep.
Tears burning rivers into her face
Cuts opening pathways to her soul
She wished if he could just come back to her.
She hoped he read this and realize that the girl he loved once, wrote this
while fighting back tears and memories.
She sat here writing her feelings into this poem.
Spilling the words onto a word doc,
wondering whether he is also awake thinking of her.
Monday, 21 May 2018
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