If the circumstances were different, perhaps.
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One End, Many BeginningsClose the book.
Sign it off.
The words ebb and cease.
The door closes behind us, and many open for us.
We have left this time and taken the next step.
A step into a fresh, unwritten book.
Unblighted by mistakes.
Of old grudges.
To start anew.
To begin again.
Welcome to the next chapter of your life.
Humanity and MachineryI have taken a giant step; nothing will be the same again. I click, I whirl, and my nerves transfer the data necessary for computation remarkably fast. A body of meat is weak, and I am no longer of that flesh. I am pure consciousness. I am electronic.
I am more real than I have ever been before.
Humanity is an interesting conundrum. For our insistence of our superiority, we relied on so much around us. The air, nutrients derived from food, and the connections that we derived from other humans were all required for our proper functionality. And if we didn’t, we would stall and age prematurely, our hearts would age, and we would die internally whilst the case of our body continued to work. A sad, almost unavoidable death.
Once, I was like that. I maintained a balance of nutrients, oxygen intake, and connections, and yet, I was still empty and erroneous. I did not compute reality as others did. The only reality I understood was the computer reality, of computer games, of code, of ha
Twist of your SmileWhat I would give to see the twist of your smile,
Or the warm glow in your eyes,
But what we had is now defiled,
From the friendship which has malformed into a lie...
The Tolling of MemoryDo you remember me?
Remember the days we spent?
The nights we laughed?
Do you remember me?
The countless cars we watched,
The emotion we poured as the rain fell around us?
I remember you.
The closeness we felt. We were in sync.
We understood each other. Like no one else.
We broke each others hearts.
You pushed me off the edge of the cliff,
and snapped that last link of the chain.
You're so far away.
I can see that you've grown. Grown away from me.
But it is a gift to see your smile.
Close in proximity, but distant in friendship.
I'll keep you in my treasure-box, and I'll try to reforge the chain.
But maybe that's what we should be.
A memory and a photograph.
Vodka (Want)I just want to drink and black out.
I want to to drown every single part of me.
I want to struggle for breath.
I want to see the world tear at the edges.
I want to be able to admit this to more than just a glowing screen and the bottom of a glass.
Call of the VoidL’appel du vide
Concrete at the edge of my feet. Wind curls around my ankles. I sway on the knife edge of the roof, the unilluminated darkness whispering seductively into my ear.
The smell of salt burns my nostrils, and the wind draws tears from my eyes.
The waves lap against the cliff, gently wetting the jagged rocks that I saw earlier, when the last tinges of the red sun faded away. It would be so easy, just to take a step, answer that call and
Embraced by the water, and the rocks. All the problems, the stress, the pain, everything that is pressing against me would bleed out into the sea. The simplicity of it, of walking away and just
About everything. Never having to make another decision. Never hurting another person. Never remembering the damage I’ve wrought, the blood on my hands.
It calls to me. Who am I to not answer its call? It has offered me the answers I seek.
The call of the void.
FlawedThere are so many people in the world.
With their own unique aspects of their life. With their own ideas of what would work in our world. With their own aspirations. Dreams. Loves.
All contained in a lump of grey matter.
Yet, there is something that connects us. Connects each and every single one of us.
We are all inherently screwed up.
We are all inherently flawed.
We might bite too quickly.
Jump too conclusions.
Therefore, we will make mistakes. We will hurt others.
We will hurt ourselves.
Until we take it out on other people.
Take it on ourselves.
And we will bleed ourselves dry.
Fictional CharacterWrite yourself into a story, and then you can see, with a bitter taste and revulsion catching in your throat, the person you truly are.
I am HumanI am a Human
that isn't afraid to stand up.
I am a human,
willing to make a difference in ones life.
I am a Human,
that was born to make peace in her life.
I am a Human,
that makes and then learn from their mistakes.
I am a somebody,
that was never meant to feel guilt.
I am a somebody,
that learns to put the past behind.
I am worth it,
when those think I don't deserve it.
I am strong,
when those think of me as weak.
I never give up,
when I am at my weakest point.
I was never born,
to let those step all over me.
I was born to live my life,
love it to the fullest.
Not caring what those think of me.
I was BORN TO BE ME.
Five YearsI tripped over your foot
One hundred and seven in total,
I let you catch me
when I fell down.
One hundred and seven in total,
You tripped over the brink
of misery and gloom.
You let me catch you
let me catch you.
I held you,
And I never let go,
never let go.
Love.There is more to life than the human flesh.
and the individual.
Not everything is a competition.
Don't delete my numberDon't delete my number.
I want you to keep it for as long as you can.
Until looking at it as you scroll down in your contacts becomes too unbearable.
Until it hurts in places you never knew you had.
Until you internally bleed and your skin bruises deep purple and blue.
I don't know how long it will take you—maybe tomorrow, next month, or next year.
But when you have finally had enough and go to delete it forever, text me first just to tell me so.
Don't give me time to reply, just press send and delete.
Because only then will you know just how I felt when I deleted yours.
Don't reply to this Facebook message.
Even if you do, I won't be able to receive it because you'll be long blocked by then.
What you don't understand is that I must do this.
I have to keep pushing you away because it's the only thing I know how to do.
This kind of pain is the only thing I can feel sometimes.
And I'm beginning to like it.
But don't worry. Please, don't worry.
BreakHe told me not to pick roses
because beautiful things are fragile
and they are fast to break.
He then asked me if I was broken yet
I picked a rose with a lot of thorns
I left it upside down to dry out
When it was done I gave it to him
and I said
I'm still put together
A Guide to InspirationDo you ever sit at your computer, staring at a blank screen? You want to add a chapter to your novel, add another verse to your poem, or draw a beautiful landscape, but you can't get yourself to do it. Your hand won't sweep that pencil over the paper. The words won't flow from your keyboard to your computer screen. It happens to everyone.
But fear not! I will share the many ways to gain inspiration and battle artists/writers block.
Music is good for the soul, and therefore one of the key ingredients to gaining inspiration. Whether it be Mozart or Lincoln Park, your favorite music can send you to different worlds if you let it.
But don't be boring and just listen to songs you've already heard! Experiment! Take a look at the suggested videos on Youtube (but be careful). Maybe listen to a song you've never heard, but that was written/performed by a favorite band of yours. Chances are, you'll run into a song you adore.
Once you've done that, just listen to i
Anxious.I retire from the crowd, feeling kinda strange.
This anxiety is drowning me, somethings gotta change.
I gotta get in my mind's soul and start to rearrange––
your confidence for my sadness, care for an exchange?
This loneliness has company,
Gaining on me subtly,
I'm handing out custody,
I'm left with nil––utterly.
I think about tomorrow; wasting my today.
Already feel broke, before I even gotta pay.
I hear what I wanna hear, not what you have to say.
Losing bits of self; as I try and make my way.
This stressing is messing––
maybe it's a blessing;
dressing up depressing.
Trying to fool me, as it's assessing––
keeping me on my toes daily; guessing.
I need a change, now
I want to be the cause of "wow"
Just give me a go; allow,
I'll be the answer to your "how".
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
to crumble up
the remnant pieces
of my love for you
and throw them in the trash
but I'm such a bad shot.
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