They Crucified I

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In respect for the fallen martyrs. No words can do them right. We feel their pain, or at least a part of it. No one who was not served justice shall stand alone.

#HelloBrother

#TheyAreUs

***

The strangled cries of innocents

Poignant aromas filled them, glints

Of the bullets swerving were seen

Grief had a keen

Reminder of loss and pain

Are you done yet, or does the blood allow you to gain

The finest products and luxuries, never mind the obvious fame?

Is that it? The justification of the red rain

Droplets that were chained

To the floors, stains

On the holy grounds

Spattering what is supposed to be a place

To maintain

Peace

Alas, what is done is done

Accusation will not help

Rather, lectures shall be held

To qualify the generations’ thoughts into harmless mischief

Of which does not repeat the mistakes of grandfathers’ and whom else

So, farewell my Brothers and Sisters

We hope you lay in grief-

Less wander and joy

For you, at least, should enjoy.

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Salute

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Ello! So, the other day we were discussing the matter of having a sub-consciousness. My friend, Leo lockomora, challenged me to write some kind of writing about it, and I’m not one to shut down a challenge. Like come on, who does that? Ta daaaaaa! This is my acceptance of the challenge. Read with caution; I am not responsible for any mood swings followed after.

This poem was inspired by:

Mansion by NF

Migraine by Twenty One Pilots (DON’T EVER WRITE IT LIKE THIS —> 21Pilots)

***

Dear Sub-consciousness

What drives you to whisper

Into my ears

Spying through my thoughts

Flickering my decisions

Of right and wrong Continue reading “Salute”

A Letter To Fear

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Dear Fear,

In your absence and your presence, I still fear you. If I am being cautious, I am too cautious. If I am being careless, I am too careless; maybe the thrill and adrenaline are messing with my head, and I fear if I did not cave into you -dear Fear- I will get myself into trouble. I neither know what to do with you nor without you. For without you, I will drive head first into shallow waters. With you, though, I will skim my lips on a cup of water, unable to drench my thirst for the fear of the water being unfiltered; therefore, giving Regret a present. Supposedly, in giving we earn. Alas, regret’s way of paying is unwanted; I would rather be poor.

Continue reading “A Letter To Fear”

Energy

“*Scherezade’s Labyrinth had asked me to write any type of writing that concerns:
empathy, sympathy, antipathy, energy, and laughter.

I haven’t forgotten it. This post concerns energy, in my own way. Challenge done and dusted. If you’ve noticed, I have mentioned empathy, sympathy and antipathy indirectly in different posts.

This poem describes betrayal. Sometimes, it cuts through skin, veins, bones and marrow until it reaches to your very being, merging with it, leaving an imprint, causing a change.

***

Why have you lied?

When I smile at you,

Do you feel all warm

And giddy inside

For I gave you a part of I

And asked you to fight by my side

Whatever darkness we will be facing

And I can’t fight alone

You shall be my shield

For I gave you all my positive energy

Through that smile

And I absolutely cannot weild

A sword and win a fight

Unless my rage isn’t the one that might

Raise my hand in victory because then

I would be tempted to hide

From the lingering decaying smells of hatred

And I can’t abide

In acting out of anger

For then all of the tire I went through

Would count for nothing

Because I’ll end up as an empty shell

Without a bullet

So, dear friend

I gave you all my positive energy

And now I have none

Will you guide

Me through the tunnels and the disguise

The rotten had made when their souls died?

Or will you leave thy,

A backless soldier

On the battlefield

Screaming from agony?

Not because of a shot directed at me

But because I no longer have myself neither in thy nor in thee

Since you have left me behind

Oh God, am I truly even alive?

Reflection

No, I swear I didn’t miss the weekly post on purpose. WordPress isn’t working for some reason. I couldn’t write. I had to let my friend (Leo Lockomora who posted this as if it’s me) post this for me. Imagine?! I don’t know what’s wrong, but I hope they fix it real soon. I want to edit and publish my posts myself, for I love doing that. Anyways, for this post, I want your opinions. This article (?) was written in mid-2018’s. Is my writing getting better? Do I have a specific fault in all of my writing that I could improve? I really would appreciate it if you would pin-point my flaws in writing and criticize them-no offence taken.

***

Lying on his bed, Leon thought about all the criticism this world holds, all the hate that pours out beyond people’s coded words. As they all say, words are the sharpest weapons; daggers; knives. Leon wondered what the core of this hate is… is it pride? Greed? Fright? Disgust? Fear? Vanity? Arrogance? Or was it simply an emotion that had no real reason behind it? He had encountered actions done by others without a reason that hurt people surrounding the doer.

He found himself asking questions that had absolutely no reasonable answer. What is hate? He searched for the definition, but the answer wasn’t satisfying enough, it didn’t justify anything.

Why would people do that? Why would they judge? What would happen if they replaced classes in society?

Would they build self-hate? Would they be offended by people judging them like they did to others before, or would they think they deserved it? Would they learn to embrace everyone no matter how socially different afterwards? Or would they start criticizing others that were perhaps “higher” or “lower” in society views?

It was all so overwhelming. If we share the same organizations of organs, if we share the same land, then why do we look at others as if they’re ten feet deep below us? Is it because we had better luck in society’s comments and judgments, so we decided to follow as to not be outcasts? But the problem is that we are a society! We wrote these comments and decided to humiliate others based on differences that divide us.

It is as if your outward demeanour conquers everything; it is what decides your future. Yet the question was why? Why did we choose this path? It looked enlightened but that was only glamour! The path only leads us to several emotional difficulties resulting in suicide and death. If we didn’t bully others then the term “self-hate” would diminish and eventually become non-existent. If we were not so closed minded, we would construct a better base for us and other organisms. It would be called Earth again, not wasteland.

If we didn’t grip on our opinions so tightly and disregarded others, then we would have more suitable, civilized and equal solutions that supported several religions; after all, faith was like rods joining railways and buildings together. Though if faith was what splintered us like shards of glass then what would join the pieces back again? Faith was only a way of allowing humans to understand the nature and origins of things, yet it was the factor of doubt.

Beliefs, origins and nationality were the things that represented what we are now, even if they are not what truly show what is inside. It made us what we are and that is wrong.

These terms do not reflect our personality or our personal lives, yet they are only obstacles of how to approach and start an argument with that person. They are only for judgment now. We are aware of this though. How many famous Youtubers, from Prince Ea that concludes conflicts in beautiful imagery symbolism, to IISuperwomanII, who truly has the potential to speak to you soul to soul, and the ability to help through simple words. How many influential people, people like Ellen DeGeneres had addressed this? But as always, close-minded people win.

Change is good. You as an individual can make a difference. Imagine yourself in their shoes, and your world would differ. If you thought, just for a few calm minutes, you would realize how hard it is to be them. How hard it is to accept what society is implying. How hard is to travel against the current of the river and be the only alive fish in acidic lifeless water. Change is good. Please check out this! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QIH42EbN6g4

Excerpt: “Can I Exist?”- Missio

Clemency? Ha!

Mercy? That’s funny..but first

Tell me how it feels

To be the one who breaks hearts

Without a thought

Tell me how it feels

To be the one who brought

Grief and didn’t attend the funeral

Tell me how it feels

To watch yourself bestow

A dimming of someone’s glow

Tell me how it feels

To see an innocent soul

Leave with tortured moans

Tell me how it feels

To be able to draw

A masterpiece with all the tears you’ve stored

Tell me how it feels

To foresee a man’s madness grow

From the way his irises withdraw

Tell me how it feels

To shove someone over the edge of danger-zone

And letting them endure the fall

Tell me how it feels

To break the law

When you’re the law itself, so?

But you don’t feel at all

So I guess you’ve no words to stall

Your first and last agonized wrawl

Because you’re finally caught

There’s no out-running the free-for-all

Match the town hall

Is having, and you’re the reward, no?

I do not know.

I don’t know about you guys, but I think I am hacking into websites better than I thought I am because I have been nominated for the Versatile Blogger Award! And yes, while writing this, I was pronouncing versatile slowly and I still got it wrong. Please check out Lynyo! What I love about Lynyo’s blog is that the poetry written is expressed in two different languages. English isn’t my mother language, and for the life of me, I can barely write a proper couple of sentences in my mother language. Is it because of my lack of trying? I don’t know. I’m trying to get better though. Anyways, that’s that.

Also, the wonderful and inspiring blogger, Tryst with mind, has to be visited as well. She is merely a step short of being a best-selling author. Yes, I’m urging her-forcing, really- to write a novel. She better.

Thank you Lynyo and Tryst with mind for offering me the honour of your nominations!

***

Versatile Blogger Award:

Rules:

The Versatile Blogger Award was created to celebrate blogs who have unique content, strong writing, and beautiful images or photographs.

1-Thank the person who has nominated you and share the link to their blog;

2-Share 7 facts about yourself;

3-Nominate some blogs you love.

Facts:

1-As you may know, I’m currently writing a novella. What inspired me to put pen on paper is the fact that I always had favourite characters, fictional scenarios going through my head and a wish of a plot’s proceeding of my predictions. So, why not create this world by myself?

2-I love black coffee-no sugar- and very dark chocolate. I chose the bitter willingly, I promise.

3-Calories don’t bother me as much as it bothers other girls my age. I mean, someone is always going to be prettier than you, smarter than you, richer than you, so do you really have to kill yourself to reach an invisible throne? I don’t mean that you shan’t push yourself to be generally better, but that doesn’t mean for you to not live, merely exist. That’s not life.

4-I’ve often disliked people who judged by one’s reputation or upbringing. Like, for example, if he’s royalty, he surely hadn’t fought with poverty, right? A man in war is facing bigger troubles, so the prince’s dismay on anything is purely selfish. Wrong. This isn’t the scale to measure on. For someone who hadn’t ever lifted a finger in their early days, it would be surely hard to bare the whole weight of the kingdom, with its shadows, on their lone shoulders. For some one who had never starved or had gotten abused, it is still hard on them if they got bullied or disconnected from someone they love. Yes, they hadn’t faced the scars the abused did, but the scars embedded on their bodies is just as deep due to the bump in their luxurious lives. The cause of misery in the worst’s life is not the same as the cause of misery in the best’s life; nevertheless, pain forces both of them to bow down and beg for release, no matter the circumstances.

5- I’m a bit too talkative when I’m in the mood, as you noticed in fact (4). If I’m reserved around you, that means I’m not in the mood to talk so do not piss me off, or I’m uncomfortable around you.

6-With anyone I’m chattering away with, I give them a piece of myself. Whether they cherish it or leave it, it is their choice. Their choice to gain another one, or lose them all.

7-I’ve been wanting to take 3 majors: Math, Chemistry and Biology. I also planned to take English and Business as an off-course. Students around the world, or anyone really, what do you think? Too much pressure?

***

Nominations:

1-All Things Uncanny

2-In mind and out

3-A piece of me

4-ABKstories

And anyone who wants to. Who am I to pick?

***

I know you’re not supposed to ask questions, but I’m curious. You’re free to answer and not answer, the nominated and the readers alike =D

Questions:

1-To be always cold or always hot?

2-Ever hugged someone you thought you knew, but it was not them? Who?

3-What is the funniest/worst prank you did, or had been performed on you?

4-Fave 3 songs?

5-Which year would you like to live in for a bit? Like, for example, the 1960’s.

Blurred Lines

This isn’t going to be easy. She’s already horrified. But, she’s empathetic. Not sympathetic. I figured as much. With a backbone of steel and a mind of stone, there should be a story behind it too.

I exhaled, “I’m going to spare you the details, but, basically, the same story happened to my brother.  My sister is an undiscovered legend.”

I looked her in the eyes and did not break eye-contact for a good minute or two.

She sighed, “I do not pity you.”

She’s always two steps ahead.

I growled, “Fancy last words.”

Just as I turned to leave, I heard her lilting, deceptive voice, “Sometimes, Caine, we are not from the lucky ones. Aren’t the ones who got silver spoons and golden platters. Aren’t the ones who didn’t need to fight for their rights. Aren’t the ones who never had to protest against unfairness. Aren’t the ones who faced several battles that didn’t require a sacrificial of self, honour and family.

“We are the ones that crawled from the underworld. We are the ones with claws to replace our broken nails, with canines instead of soft teeth, with bloody knuckles and scarped skins, with breaths of fire, with faces of scars, with bodies like cougars, ready to pounce on a predator and with consciences of blood because that’s all we ever won with, all we ever understood, all we ever traded with, all we have drunk here-in the underworld- and all we ever saw.

“We-you and I- aren’t monsters, or shadows or other-worldly creatures. We’re humans; we’re just a different kind. Alas, no matter how clearly the mirror shows the truth, we choose to stay in denial. We’re vicious, desperate and aggressive, but we’re still humans, Caine.

“Pain may have been our salvation; you shall never despise it because of simply being so, for a true monster is the one who does wrong and feels nothing at all; the one who, no matter how much unrighteousness they saw, chose silence as their weapon, spilling no justice at all.”

I closed my eyes, hugged her words close to me, and left her tent. She never said goodbye.