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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1300042-SuperNova-Afterglow-End-Of-Days/day/10-3-2014
Rated: 18+ · Book · Writing · #1300042
All that remains: here in my afterlife as a 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know.
The Idiotic Ideate??

Formerly: New Zenith To Hell…(all started with arc as writer here from the trials of Rising Stars to Preferred Author to WDC Quills Best Poetry Collection to the falling action I feel now that settles in a white case.)
Got to hustle to preserve the best of me before fully fading on that virtual horizon glowing more brilliant with each passing day to permanent nuclear winter.

if people don’t get it, I don’t need to explain it.


We kill all that’s beautiful before we question it’s purpose. So many people find it easier to think in the black and the white. God forbid you get lost straying in the gray.

"Whoever fights monsters should see to it…he does not become a monster.”
I’ve been to the abyss and back. Not so bad.

The loneliest happy person you'd ever meet, when not the saddest person who needs to be alone.

In an ever-changing world, we need to handle topics at the ready. If you roll over and give in to the narrative without lending a voice of your own, you might as well hand over your civil liberties. We have voices that should connect to true conscience and spirit for honest and open discourse. Why feel so redacted?

Unify on issues and put drama aside. Open minds require complete objectivity. If none need apply, question the unbendable sources for answer. If you knee-jerk react to every issue lurking out there that clutches your neck, you fall victim to your own ignorance born from a life of apathy (no doubt) in pathetic cries of injustice.

Just writing what I feel without the narrative-altering mind f---ing with my head.

[MY Chorus]
In your house, I long to be
Room by room, patiently
I'll wait for you there, like a stone
I'll wait for you there, alone

"It amazed me how truth was often suffocated in minutes, but lies were given sufficient air to breathe indefinitely."


"You are all better than you think you are, you are just designed not to believe it when you hear it from yourself."


Merit Badge in Second Time Around Contest
[Click For More Info]

Congratulations on winning the Grand Overall Prize in  [Link To Item #2164876]  with your beautiful poem, [Link to Book Entry #933358]. This poem really moved me. Great writing!

Rachel *^*Heartv*^*

                   A signature image for use by anyone nominated for a Quill in 2018                    

"...lasting art is never anything more than a mathematical expression of the relations that exist between the internal and the external, the self [le moi] and the world." -Jean Metzinger

I'm in love with carefully chosen words, arranged just so, audible, edible, to inhale. I attempt to post new poems and epiphanies daily with some links to what inspires.

I am legally blind with a rare, genetic form of glaucoma. I'm described as "end stage" after two successful surgeries, still subject to further vision loss. Cataracts complicating matters. Writing Can get strenuous but seldom deters what yearns to emerge, despite a documented history of depression and recently diagnosed ADHD and undefinable social disorders and/or PTSD.

My recent poetry:

BOOK
Life’s Little Misdirections 🥀🦋  (18+)
10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind
#1149750 by He’s Brian K Compton


Sometimes epiphanies about my insights on writing and life and what goes on...

Making sense of life is maddening. Why do I need to know, when truth may not actually exist? Learning to accept would be a better pursuit? Flailing about in my own mediocrity, hoping to bust out.

I am visible. You can put a face with a name. I would like to see other writers, too. Fiction is what you write, not who you are.

Reinventing myself. I couldn't continue on the path I was on and needed a fresh start. This time around I want to put the focus on writing and the world outside of this community as it affects my life.

I realize now that I have been baring my chest a bit more, as when young. fake me much more boring and unliberated than the real me.

A world arriving as silent as that blossom in your garden that I told you about...
October 3, 2014 at 11:18am
October 3, 2014 at 11:18am
#829845
It's not like the old days anymore. Not like we can meet for lunch at the Szechuan place on Third Street, where you educated me on Asian cuisine. And, not far from the University where we spent most of our hours either in class or working at the public radio and television studios, keeping in touch through the campus phone system.

It seemed like not a day would go by without a word for one another. And then you found somebody to "date." And when he would travel for his job, which was frequent, then we found time for each other again. When he was around, I was out of sight. But, one day I failed and it all came apart. I needed help and you brought him along to rescue me. And I did not offer my thanks. The words got stuck in my throat. He pointed it out to you, as you said. And I realized I was a threat, in his eyes.

So you were upset and I stayed away. Eventually we became friends again. But it was never the same. And then I had to move away and then you had to move away and we grew farther and further apart. I sent the last unresponded letters. I sent the last unresponded emails.

I saw something in you. You left me hanging. For years I have not been able to put together the puzzle of the last time we were together and I thought you had extended your hand touching mine on your daybed on accident. But now I wonder, was there a purpose? You did not let me know if you were still in a relationship. I sensed something in you I hadn't seen since the first time I thought there was an attraction and you managed to confuse me. So I did not respond. And now I have regrets to this day that I did not find out.

Over 20 years later, I found you and contacted you. And from the emails it seems like you're still the girl I used to know. You are married now. I am married now. And yet, the thing dogs me still, stuck in my brain. It should be harmless to ask. I cannot, should not, open that door, even though I stare at it every day wondering what lies beyond, wondering what I left inside.

Just know, whenever I dreamed of you, I felt I could be or do anything I wanted. Without you, I wonder if I'll ever realize my potential.

Goodbye again, LuAnne

Brian

Written long ago, though I could not share with you, he said wistfully, alone to the sky...

 
STATIC
To Share In Your Garden  (E)
What could have been, if she had not been tempted by the fruit of another.
#1172766 by He’s Brian K Compton


October 3, 2014 at 8:28am
October 3, 2014 at 8:28am
#829826
Been taking personality tests at Psychcentral.com to learn if suspected traits exist and not liking some results. Self diagnosis is cheap, painful and just as subjective, but not overseen by a paid professional who can drag out sessions for years, feeling no wiser for the experience.

I'm just going to tweet insights, adding whatever passes for wisdom here and in Notebook, as the psyche turns over each stone obsessively, finding no discernible clue to explain this vain existence.



© Copyright 2024 He’s Brian K Compton (UN: ripglaedr3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
He’s Brian K Compton has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1300042-SuperNova-Afterglow-End-Of-Days/day/10-3-2014