My toxic trait is that I think everything I write is divinely inspired and amazing but also refuse to share it with anyone irl because what if they think it’s bad
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When you're in that awkward in-between of wanting to write more, but you're also burnt out from writing.
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Another day has came and gone.
The stillness of the night;
a reminder to my loneliness.
The rising of the sun
will bring a new day.
As dusk falls, it'll bring
that familiar emptyness
Im now accustomed to.
That doesn't discourage
my anticipation to see the moon shine;
For just as she
I too am alone.
R.A.
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neverenders
I think I have made peace
With lightbeams and
Self-induced headaches
A craving for loving
And maybe creating
Climbing up and down my ribs
Can I do it justice?
Pretty creatures - Neverenders
I heard you can meet them
When you stop looking
I'm not sure what my idea was
Prolly that's the point
It escapes bodies
It does, in its beauty
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It’s with a heavy heart I announce the devastation blooming in the catacombs of my rattling heart.
Where daylight is absent in the shattered abyss and where demented thoughts linger on the edge of my soul.
I’m lost in the lovely maze of intricate design and abominable horrors, somewhere at the brink of insanity and in the midst of hopelessness.
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via her-scattered-pages // a poem, a prayer
insta her.scattered.pages
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I buried those feelings, emotions,
endearment and vehemence
In a graveyard.
They pile up to make a person-
Made only of impalpable attributes
Too gullible to breach
Today's deception
I visit the graveyard often
To express my love
Because that's what
She liked
I buried her in a graveyard
In the void of my soul
She is a version on of me,
And, I still visit her;
To express my love
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Breathe
We’re like Ocean, on the Surface it's all nice. The waves rolling, all calm, all riches. But the deep you go, in the down and out there lies the ugliness, all the scary parts. However, that’s where it's the most beautiful too, all the moments we like are alongside the scary ones, balancing it all out or sometimes not and that’s okay. Because, sometimes Ocean is not okay too, sometimes it lashes out too, it loses its calm to raging waves but then it's calm again. So breathe, even the deep dark dingy bottom of the ocean floor is alive and breathing.
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— The Confession
Someone told me, I stand amid a vigorous whirlwind of fiction and facts. Sometimes of remembrance, sometimes of ignorance. No one but you notice me in the midst of thronging crowd I drown always. Amusing how, when I reach the zenith of nothingness, you exactly know how to pull me out from that void of nothing. When I scavenge helplessly for the truth, when I get governed by nothing but lies, you put me in front of the harsh reality no matter how harsh it is, to show the true colours of everyone I loved once.
Thousands of unspoken words, yet you know what I meant. I could write five lines of poetry and a song of yearning but do you think It'd be enough to paint the hieroglyphics of unsaid emotions? Fifty skies I've gazed, yet five thousand more to gaze at, with you. to my moonlight monologue, you said the gods wrote you back but I think they dialed an eerie number from heaven's hotline.
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paulathewriter.com
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Two people liking one certain song. But having two totally different favourite parts in that song of a couple minutes. Doesn't it say a lot about them?
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High Concept Screenplay Program (HCSP) ~ Final Deadline: August 31, 2023
Welcomes all genres and aims to discover, honor and reward different approaches, eclectic points of view and unique voices in screenwriting.
More info:
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Writing Tip...maybe??
Sooo— this might be me, or my newly discovered obsession with pens, but I'm starting to like my drafts better. Which is weird? I normally hate it, especially if it's on paper; however, when I write it in pen, my ape brain goes: "oooh, pretty words!"
So, in all, if you feel down about your draft, write it with a 🌟pretty🌟 pen!
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Plotter or Panster? These days both. I use to be a dedicated panster, writing whatever came to mind. When the characters wanted to share their story I sat down to listen and write their story. I had no idea when or what would happen but I was having fun learning about their lives. Now, I have some tools that help me plan ahead and make better choices on the time lines of this new story that has come to fruition. No surprise it is a contemporary romance idea and the theme is hospitality. I’m a believer of: Write what you know. I am a memoir writer and I tend to lean towards my own life experiences to share. But this new idea is going to be fun to write. I am in the plotting stage. I actually drafted an outline and have a spread sheet for the characters, names, attributes and everything in between. Who am I? Lol. Now, back to the writing and when I say writing it means all things writing; plotting, researching, creating content, newsletters, and actually writing new words. Oh how I love the creative process! Thank you for stopping by. Until next time, keep on typing… #writerfriendschallenge #truth #grateful #writinglife #amplotting #amwriting #writerscommunity #writercorner #writingprompts #writinginspiration #writerlife #instawriters (at Durham Bridge, New Brunswick) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cofpbr5v_N3/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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DEATH
In the cremating ground , my body will cremate
and in the released heat my dear most mom's tears will evaporate
Almighty will suck out the pure shit of my soul
and the devils inside will be bashed
ignited till it turns into ash
Wander on the clouds aimlessly
eavesdrop my death gossip shamelessly
I will fly to my graveyard hopelessly
I will lurk the Earth agelessly
my soul will watch the cremation
muted growls and shouts
echoing in an invisible cage
"I AM NOT DEAD , CAN ANYONE HEAR ME"
I will be pleased to see the haters sympathizing
accompanying the occasional screams of mourning
blessed to watch the family members uniting
bewildered to see the Town making me focus of attention
without any secret intention
For my loved ones , my death will be unbelievable
and my loss pain will be unhealable
ah this becomes the remarkable event in my life
oh my darling death , claim me as one of your wife
let me bake the cake in oven
while cozying in my new mansion in heaven
pitying my fake sympathizers and well wishers are destined to be burnt like barbeque in hell
I will haunt the weak criminal souls within their bodies
to the extent till that sinner dies
O' my death , take me to the state of rest
as living for the common desires which are worthless waste
Make me void of anger , jealousy , love , lust and sadness
Let me shake the heaven with all my madness
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remember ramadan’s arrival, when it just begun?
“why must you departure and come to an end?”
take this, “an acceptance of worship is a continuation of it.”
هل تتذكر عندما حل رمضان ، عندما بدأ للتو؟
"لماذا عليك المغادرة والانتهاء؟"
خذ هذا ، "قبول العبادة استمرارها".
via her-scattered-pages // strive
insta her.scattered.pages
“don’t depend on I (رمضان) you may not reach me again.”
a piece written when hearing halaqa during taraweeh 4/29
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