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#freestyle writing
blackanimegeek · 21 hours ago
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Thinking: The Reality Inside
Thinking: The Reality Inside
The Reality Inside coax me from my shell i need a reason to go outside a day not too far from now the purple berries will be covered in frost again the pine cones will hang frozen from the trees there will be no pugnacious buzz of agitated bees but i will remain inside a reality within an ever-changing paradigm Love always, Esha ❤
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roanamakeway88 · 4 days ago
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He Who Burnt
By Rona Caspi
He then swings like an acient art
He remembers how it was taught in that dark.
Steady and projecting,
The father flew up high.
That child was amused in that very moment,
Air smelled like clement, it goes strong in every movement.
To ascend he felt peace-
To descend it's pure bliss.
To relever again and again,
Icarus stumbles to glide and bend.
"It's near, it's near." The father mumbled.
"You needed to bear, don't ever crumble."
Huge wings finally reached the crept's end.
It's time the tiny has to bent.
Daedalus has never seen,
As the surrounding starts to dim.
"Father already reached the sun.
I can now be his son."
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starportinteractive · 7 days ago
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ZONE - LF_Rabbitbyte.Net/Ambnc/ZonePropertiesTalk - Mickey & Chad
ZONE – LF_Rabbitbyte.Net/Ambnc/ZonePropertiesTalk – Mickey & Chad
Chad: This solution, FORMZ, it will change the face of Real Estate? Mickey: The solvent done on earth lots can out of biomechanical system will and have proven to restructure the chemical alignment and biological make-up, by using micro-engineering and cyberlocative, this refactoring with the ZONE technology will change the face of Real Estate–yes. Chad: and is this all that Starport: ZONE is…
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raindoessomewriting · 8 days ago
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Spoken vs. Written Word
(draft)
the written word
seems to convey thoughts
in a much better way
than speech.
one can spend hours
adjusting their vessel for emotion
when writing,
they allow their pen to spill secrets.
when spoken,
one has but a second
to build words
and construct sentences.
thinking about tone,
delivery,
pitch--
an exhausting task.**
there is so much room
for misinterpretation
when one cannot manage
the delivery of words.
when scratching the paper
with ink-stained tips,
thought has time to seep
into the folds of the mind.
what happens though,
when one can't even find the words
to speak or write
to begin with?
when words fail,
what becomes the new vessel?
or is one forced
to remain silent?
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raindoessomewriting · 8 days ago
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Spilling Thoughts
(like ink on parchment)
writing.
a way to put emotions
on paper.
to paint feelings
with words
and sounds.
to illustrate experiences
with tears
and brushes.
why is it
that these words
relieve so much pain?
cutting it out
of my chest,
pulling a sword
from a stone.
an impossible feat
only ink
can achieve.
although sometimes,
not even a pen can dislodge
the feelings wedged
between my ribs.
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raindoessomewriting · 8 days ago
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Soft Jealousy
(or is it longing?)
As much as I love to see them,
through the windows of the screen
I can't stand seeing them together,
shoulders and arms touching,
leaning against one another.
I wish I was there,
too much to be able
to look and laugh with them
through the other end of the barrier.
I miss them too much
to be able to enjoy their time together.
Maybe soon I'll be there,
sandwiched in the middle.
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kreamywrites · 9 days ago
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Inked
I write better on paper
because my inscriptions
are not daunted
by a blinking cursor,
but live on ink:
where dashed words are like dead timber on the embankment, now irrelevant--
but still visible, still within hand's reach;
A glint of hope,
just incase I lose the stream of words
to the undercurrent they call "imposter syndrome"
-Kimberlee Tan, 10th April 2:56AM GMT
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willowxtale · 11 days ago
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She walks.
Gloomy halls,
-empty, dim, with a small glistening.
Smells of musty books take over.
She feels free, as she looks out the window to see flowers. Lavishing.
She’s learning more about her and who she wants to be.
-Plants + earth.
It’s a start.
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enterthisdaydream · 11 days ago
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Third Time’s A Charm
Twice my exit left
showcased an incalculable fury
white-hot lightning striking you down,
rendering you mute.
I remained unashamed,
only hungry for answers
and you purposely evading fault,
starved me out.
Number threes’ retreat —
a phasewalk
a ghostly goodbye
my phone line cut dead.
Thrice your cowardice encumbered you
none more so than the last,
sisterhood has not become you,
your old patterns nauseatingly repetitive,
My faults pale in comparison.
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enterthisdaydream · 11 days ago
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Sutured Wounds
I wasn’t expecting that remembering it all
would feel so raw
even after all this time,
to suddenly realize
I miss you
as much as it pains me to admit it.
I question my nostalgia.
My memories of you are muddy —
except for your eyes,
those I wish to forget the most,
such clear recognition of remorse,
tears I was too indifferent to wipe away
and you,
begging me to stay.
I don’t regret much,
merely wondering these days,
your well-being mysterious to me,
mine apparently better off from our catastrophe;
throughout these recollections
a sorrow plagues me,
I unknowingly,
quietly grieving our disturbing adolescence.
Only children back then
pretending to be grown,
after the hell we’d seen,
the firsthand unkindness and cruelty,
ironically,
our commodious enemies were not others,
but ourselves and each other —
your finger pointed at me,
two fingers pointed back at you,
and all your half-truths in-between.
Yes,
I ponder the old days.
I look over my shoulder,
scanning strangers in our hometown,
in the cars passing by 101 bound,
anticipating the day I will face what branded me
“Not good enough!”
that scarred the heart
I’ve so carefully rearranged anew,
you were a gun forced in my hand.
I’d cock and release the fury at your command,
my personified bullet wound.
Now,
as a rule much revered,
my heart remains ready,
deadlocked and steady
on the chance of our entwining paths.
Fate may see it fit
and I’ll pray for the strength to survey you
without bitterness or shame
because we were only kids.
You fell victim to your demons,
and I was a victim of you.
You,
only a boy with vast dreams,
a man’s vice upon me.
I,
desperate to be seen,
a girl as naive as you allowed me to be.
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raindoessomewriting · 12 days ago
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The Ocean
(hopefully this doesn't come off as mindless optimism, but I was dragging a stick down the beach during vacation and thought of this)
((also yes, another draft that may never be edited))
how poetic is it
drawing a line in the sand
only for it to be washed away
into the sea
erased from my mind
erased from history
maybe you can look at life
like the sea
admire its beauty
as you are reminded that
your impact
is only to be washed away
it brings comfort to some
knowing that their mistakes
mean nothing
it brings despair to others
knowing that their actions
have no impact
maybe instead
we can look out over the sea
and let it lap at our minds
slowly
drawing us in
with its receding tides
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poetdreamerfool · 12 days ago
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we, champions
I'm sorry Mr. Rosewater I wouldn't share the breakfast of champions with my own daughter-- you gotta earn that shit. learn that shit. take the weakest parts of yourself and burn that shit-- we ain't born with shit no wish shit; talent in abundance--
water is life. tears are a life lived, I’d rather be the one eating than a smear on a bib-- as the depression slides home. not safe! black magic to black tragic--
the floodgates are ajar like a lion’s jaw; forever the thorn in the lion’s paw; in awe of a truth so raw you don’t gotta lie first to make it hurt when you say it- but for real it depends how you play it soothsayer, booth slayer, all game no player-- no god, no prayers-- just teeth and crashing hands and sharp words that are worse when whispered but feel better when yelled. another strange fruit another strange bell. ding. ding. ding. Pavlov is both god and the pope to capitalism, to hate-- but what they can’t take is what’s in my upright black fist: my fate.  
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raindoessomewriting · 14 days ago
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Midnight Car Rides
(a really rough draft that I may never finish)
sounds
warping around my ears
flowing past like the wind
across the hood of a car
words
passing my face
like the soft rumble of waves
it just serves as background noise
music
drowning thoughts
rippling through the air
like a rock in a pond
the lights
flickering across
my eyelids
closed down by an invisible weight
the seat
vibrates under me
shaking, shaking, shaking
lulling to peace
a feeling in the stomach
settling in the bottom
hunger, anxiety, loneliness?
a strangely pleasant sensation
a chill in my bones
metal on my fingers
metal in my ears
iron on my tongue
fabric moves against skin
a noise that blends with the tug of hair
from the ponytail keeping strands
away from the nape of my neck
the radiator pours
hot air onto my skin
i relish in the warmth
wrapping me in an embrace
carbonation hits my tongue
as a paper straw rubs against
my lips, my teeth
sending shivers down my spine
bad fast food
lingers in my mouth
grease and burnt fries
stuck between gums
the grease stains
my fingers are slicked with oil
my tongue picks up the aftertaste
the seat has spots from grease
the gravel crunches under rubber
the road bending in waves
a ballon in my gut
as the sea underneath me moves
behind the glass
color blends together
lines blurring
straight edges curling into one another
light catches on a mirror
scattering it onto the dashboard
a million fragments
dying the car in colors
as we move down the highway
i feel a sense of peace
that i drown myself in
letting my thoughts pass
like the cars on the other side of the street
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poetdreamerfool · 15 days ago
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2021 Freestyle series #9: 🤹🏿‍♂️🏃🏿‍♂️ nothin = somethin ➖ X
started from the bottom now I eat ceilings for breakfast I am selected like eddie gordo in tekken grew up neglected I felt pathetic but its empathetic hurting others while you hurting is human I get it   emotional wounds kill the quickest boy you can bet it stop the bleeding art the antiseptic tatted over scars pain is eclectic   it took getting my whole mental dissected then reconnected to take the first step its up to you to know  what moves to make inner peace is a jewel no on can take promises you make is no one can break but you sirens and lights so blue dude talkin bout “Freeze don’t move” his demeanor is white like donnie darko not office space the type to call you boy and tell you learn your place all they see is your skin you don’t have no face have you in jail; no space waiting on the fools who pressed pause to press play   you stopped trying to count the days then they stand in court and lie and they cousin is the judge working your case yeah your heart’s on your sleeve but up its an ace pull the boot straps up tighten the lace its time to quicken the pace its time to go take something break something make something out of nothin trapped by debt and consumption in the white man’s enterprise dirt under my finger nails t ears in my eyes nothing in my stomach and all they got to eat is lies my baby’s cries acapella trauma unplugged got flowers in my attic demons in my cellar just another black fella ducking the hang mans rope and the church's definition of hope
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josalynnnicole · 24 days ago
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Freedom
You told me that you had to be your own Sun, in your own words. Unfortunately, I am consuming your every thought and, to you, it seems as if this is a restriction on you. I do apologize for being on your mind constantly, the last thing I ever wanted to do was hinder you.
You told me that, in order to be on your journey later on, you cannot be held down by anything. I know where you want to go and end up, but I am wondering when you will finally do as you say. You have made up your mind what the path to freedom is in your lifetime.
I am telling you, that you consume my thoughts, similar just as you said I do to yours. I do understand how much you love me, how much you care for me, seeing how it can turn into some sort of obsession. It plagued me for months because all I wanted to do was love you, but I knew that was no good for either me or you; my eternal and unwavering love should only go to someone who shall return it in full. I have loved you as much as you have allowed, as much as you have loved me... For the first time, I have not "love bombed" someone, pushing them away before it begins with too anxious of attachment. Loving you has bestowed upon me the greatest lesson- how to love. How to love... that's appropriate and proper.
I am telling you, that thank you for warning me so that I try my best not to have fallen in love with you. You have taught me to better love myself, better take care of myself, and better prepare myself for the future.
You told me how I needed you right now. And it felt like if I didn't need you, you would have left. Is that true? Please, do not stay if you do not want to. I feel in my heart you still want to stay, but the more you stay you feel as if you are going to stray. Stray from where you're destined to go and who you're to be, but also you do not truly wish to be with me.
I'm telling you, dingus. It's okay. My love is overwhelming and fulfilling, and people know when they're meant to be and when they're not. Choosing to stay and making things work is true love, and what we have is true. But it is not what your fate.
I am telling, my love. I am truly loving you. But I deserve someone who doesn't make me complete (I make myself complete on my own), rather someone who can achieve all they can with me and grow successfully. And I wish it could've been you, I truly, truly do. But I will live on without you just as every other heartbroken person has done until they have loved themselves enough again to move on.
You told me you loved me unconditionally and I cried for hours. I shall love you for eternity, wishing you the best wholeheartedly. If your freedom is free from me, then let that be. You being free sets me free, too, to find who I'm meant to be-and be with.
From,
A hopeless romantic with too many words in her head
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livinatypical · 25 days ago
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"Countless times many of us are undervalued, underestimated, or, undermined. Don't allow someone else's negative opinions be an imprint on you." M. ShayLèe #writing, #wellbeing, #writer, #writers, #writingcommunity, #freestyle, #learn, #billionairemindset, #mindbodyspirit, #mindful, #howto, #positivemindset,#positiveattitude, #positivelife, #learning, #billionairelifestyle, #positivequotes, #write, #photographerlife, #positivity, #lifelessons, #bloggerlife, #creativeminds, #mentor, #affirmations, #lifecoaching, #skills, #hustle, #writeaway, #millionairemindset https://www.instagram.com/p/CM10a9UhbJ_/?igshid=1j3ckgv9ylg1c
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Voice
I have mine
You have yours
May we use them 
To their 
Fucking 
Fullest
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