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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1300042-SuperNova-Afterglow-End-Of-Days/day/11-27-2015
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
Epigram ‘n Aphorism Samwiches  (18+)
10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind
#1149750 by Lorem Ipsum, Perhaps?


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...
November 27, 2015 at 10:24am
November 27, 2015 at 10:24am
#867153
Writing lyrics again. Yearning to create music once more. I've always had this fire in me, just never found the right time to go after it. Maybe, I never will. Always looking for an encouraging word, another sign, until I have enough evidence. Always putting clues together, but everything remains a hypothesis for what I should do.


Listening to Chris Cornell Sing

Is it so hard to believe
at 6 AM, sitting at your breakfast table?
The coffee is cold
like the words unsaid on your tongue,

yet you can still dream.

Is it so hard to feel
when you're alone sitting in the dark?
No desire for the radio bleeding?

Yet, you can still dream.
Close your eyes and see.

Is it so hard to live?
She's gone from here, but her scent will never leave --
her light, haunting eyes that once helped you believe.

Yet, you can still dream,
if you close your eyes and see...



Of course, that is not the title...subtitle, maybe. Piecing together my feeling for music and pairing it with life to see if there is enough emotion to make sense of reality. Playing a game with words in my head instead of dealing.

Wish I could write music. Writing lyrics to songs I loved brought me here. I'm masquerading as a poet. Music and singing have been my life long passion. I've only been able to share it through writing up until now.


BONUS LYRICS

just riding the train and jotting down words emerging from my head...

Not Who I Was Meant To Be

I am the man in the mirror, just not the man I see.
They were successful in changing me
But suddenly I see...and I can feel
what's rising inside of me.

If I put myself out there, maybe I'll find me.
I will greet you with a smile, firm handshake,
but immediately you see...and I can feel
messages your eyes are sending me.

This is not who I'm supposed to be.

Caught in a game I wasn't meant to play.
Meant for more than this, repulsed,
I suddenly know...and I start to think
I need to slay the emerging monster.

It's not too late, while I still have breath.
Dismantling the machine after I take care of myself,
but immediately you know...and now realize
this brain cannot be toyed with.

This was not who I'm supposed to be,
and it's going to get ugly if you don't acknowledge,
back off, not who I was meant to be.



Not going to edit that one just yet. Need a break to prep my brain for another trip to gym.

Crank the Rage!




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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1300042-SuperNova-Afterglow-End-Of-Days/day/11-27-2015