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Souls and SparklesTo write something that is meaningful to someone else, you must first write something that is meaningful to yourself.
There are a thousand rooms in each person's mind, and each mind is a maze because it has been tangled. The hallways are criss-crossing and clumping, like long hair in the wind. Society has made it so.
We all have impure thoughts. Things that would make us "bad", unequal, or imperfect. Thoughts that make us different in gloriously unusual ways. We are born into the world unashamed, but then we are taught the unspoken words. Words that are rules. Words like normal, like good and bad, ugly and pretty. We are taught that if we do not fit the rule of "good", we are bad. We are evil, we are tainted, and so we are unwanted.
So, each of us hides our failures; our shortcomings, even though they are exactly the opposite of such. They are a representation of the uniqueness of each human soul, but unique is "bad", and so we hide. And those impure thoughts are hidden in darke
The Dream Song of AnonymousThis is based off The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot. It might help to read Eliot's poem first, if you haven't before.
Shall I stay, then, alone,
When the dawn is straying from the sky
Like a child roaming the sea;
Dare I stay – amidst parades of kings,
The rising revolution
Of tranquil days in silk-spread beds
And colours of mayhem in blacks and reds:
Wind chimes that jingle without judgement
Without affront –
And follow the questioning wind, without answers –
Oh, do answer, "Why not?" and
Let me stay, and dream of a candle you lit.
On the beaches the men wander alone
Driven speechless by siren song.
The house fairies lie beneath the windows.
The sunflowers that house imps hang above the windows
Droop their petals precariously earthward at dusk
And hide from the night sky in cement cracks,
Hinder gravity come dayspring and soar sunwards,
Stir from their pot, rise fr
A Pocket Full of SkyWhen I was young, my father would take me to the highest tower of Notre Dame precisely once a year. It would be cold. Freezing. But we'd stand there, and take deep breaths of air, and peer down, towards the tiny ants of people below. Down, towards the sprawling city beneath us. It was always winter, when we'd go. Always cold. Freezing, freezing. But however cold it was, and however dull and bleary the weather, my father would ask one thing, and one thing only: that we adhered to tradition.
"Lucie," he would say, with the fond smile and kind eyes I always remember. "Lucie, my peach. Whatever you become, and wherever your heart and mind leads you, you must always do for me one small, beautiful thing take a handful of the sky, and place it in your pocket. Take a handful of the sky, and remember, always, that your feet need not always be imprisoned to the ground. Anything you could ever wish for, Lucie, can be yours but only if you study hard, and always feel the freedom of t
Chapter one- The little start
It’s a regular day in Nome a to calm day. It’s have never been this calm seen the big tragedy. But let me explain from the start to the end. It is this gril named Jane, she lives in Nome with her father, mother and her sister. The names of her parents is not inportant but her sisters name is Sally. Sally is 8 years old and likes playing with her dolls and her friends. But that is not inportant now. Let me explane about Jane (she is the most inportant person now) she is 13 ½ years old, are kinda an emo or goth cuse she wears hole black lenses al the time. Likes nothing special. She only hang with her sister for the moment, but she kinda wants a friend and she feels preatty alone in school. But this guy named Jack have starded to talk with her and she is scared becuse she have never had a friend and tottaly not a guy friend. Oki now you know a little bit, let’s start the real story.