How My Business WorksHow My Business Works1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
My business works because it's actually not a business. And by this I mean I hardly make any money with my pictures. For me photography is not a way to make money but to invest money, and I work several other jobs to be able to pay for my art. I'm a tour guide on waste to energy plants and wastewater treatment facilities, I'm a concierge at the house I'm living, I work as a Photoshop instructor and on weekends I take care of the library of the University.
Sometimes people say to me: I can hardly believe you're not making money with your photos because they are better than the work of many professional photographers.
Of course it's flattering when somebody says something like that even if I don't always agree. But here's the thing: the very reason why I'm able to work on this level is because I don't have to make money with my pictures. If you're a photographer who wants to make a living out of it you are forced to do things differently. You have to focus on what your customers like and
.:Mon Petit Ami:.Voici un poème que j'ai du composer pour mon cours de français..:Mon Petit Ami:.2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Le thème était "Problematique dans le monde"
Le poème est très trompeur jusqu'à la fin du texte.
Ce sont toutes des métaphores.
Mon Petit Ami
Et on se cache dans le parc
Car maman ni papa ne comprend notre amour
Notre désir de se completer
Et de s'avoir tout les jours
C'est interdit ils me disent
Nous sommes donc Romeo et Juliette
Il m'apportera la mort
Mais sans lui je suis incomplète
Nous allons nous marier
Lié par un baiser
Dans ce parc soudainement rempli
Nous allons fêter
Et nous fêterons toute la nuit
Juasqu'au levé du soleil
Un peu endormi
Mais nous n'aurons pas de sommeil
Mais quand le ciel deviendra bleu clair
Et que tout ralenti
Je retournerai chez moi, seule
Attendant qu'il fasse nuit
Mes parents seront inquiets
Ils ne savent plus quoi faire
Donc je mentirai,
Dans le but de leur taire
Mais quand ils seront couchés
The Little MermaidThe Little Mermaid3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Music began a slow pure melody. The prince led her onto the dance floor. She was the awe of the ball. Her long flowing blond hair danced around her shoulders as she sawed and turned in perfect rhythm with the prince. Her green eyes glowed with utter happiness. Couples slowed to watch the strange girl dance with the grace of a swan. Although she could not speak a single word, she sang with her feet. Each step she took was more agonizing than the rest, as if needles were pricking the souls of her feet. She felt as if any moment the pain would over whelm her and she would fall to the floor, but she refused to allow that to happen. Needles turned to knives. Every step she held back a wince and forced her steps to be even more graceful than the last. Behind the mask, she was in agonizing pain but to the prince she was the most beautiful dancer he'd ever seen. The music stopped and by then her feet had bled through her slippers and left spongy red marks on the dance floor. the pri
.:Words Give Her Freedom:.She writes..... erases..:Words Give Her Freedom:.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She types..... backspaces
Words don't come like they used to
Litterature is a language she once spoke fluently.
And now she has forgotten,
Forgotten the freedom and the beauty
In which she used to find at the tip of a pencil.
Forgotten the pride she acheived after each poem.
Words were like open doors, letting the pain free.
Now it's only bottled up, tangled in a huge knot.
It's not like she hasn't tried opening the bottle.
She has, many times in fact.
Failing to write a single word.
She starts with a blank page and gives up with a blank page.
Soon enough it will flow out like a waterfall
And it will hit her hard and fast. Throwing her to the ground
Her paper will be drowning with words.
Not the beautiful ones that could sing someone to sleep
No. Words like screams that could wake the dead.
Transporte de las masasNo soy clasista, me justifico.Transporte de las masas7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Chocan contra mi hombro y me tocan "accidentalmente".
El ambiente lo dominan los "indios" y sus respectivos engendritos
que no paran de chingar y de ensordecerme
con la risita de niña de escuela pública
y preguntas a sus mamás de porque yo no soy un "pinche indio".
No me veré como uno pero en el fondo lo soy,
soy tan "indio" como esa hija de la chingada que se refiere
a los manifestantes de esa manera tan atróz y caníbal.
Desgraciadamente joderse la vida en este mundo material,
consisite en nacer con la tez obscura y tener ascendencia indígena.
En este país tercer mundista basta con no estar vestido "de marca"
o que tu papi no tenga un puesto de "vale madres"
en donde chinga y jode a los "indios" que trabajan para él,
para que te tachen de pinche naco, cholo, pobre o en el peor de los casos
de pinche indio.
En cuanto a transporte, estos usan el "pesero"
que a la de ahuevo va siendo manejado por un resentido social,
que le echa carreras a otro h
.:Silence Is Her Lullaby:.Silence is her Lullaby.:Silence Is Her Lullaby:.2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
That's all she ever does.
however, she never seems to get enough
As she lays in bed,
she stares up at the white ceiling,
blank like her stare and her thoughts.
Only until everything resurfaces.
The voices, the images,
She struggles to reach over to her night table,
Trembling, she drops the little blue tablet on her tongue,
and waits... for
YouYou,You3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Are not what you do for a living.
Are what your passion is.
.:A New Dawn:.Another Night. Alone..:A New Dawn:.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Alone since you left her there hanging.
Not with a rope, but with words.
You shattered her with reality. The truth.
And left her there to pick herself up.
Now hating that she cannot hate you.
A New Dawn Awakens her. Not you.
For you're gone.
.:Dancing Alone:.She feels empty ever since the cassette.:Dancing Alone:.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
stopped playing her lullaby and made
dancing seem impossible when it used
to be effortless; effortless because it was
their dance, their
song, their story to write freely but
when he no longer wished to write
she tried to continue, until she
realized the pen contained no more ink, and
she had to face the fact that this
was where she had to end the
dancing, the music, the story ; for she was
alone in it.
.:In The Mirror:.In the mirror she is the copy of him.:In The Mirror:.2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
A cold hearted double faced asshole
A Fake. A Phony. A Liar.
With her nose high up in the air
Yet the thought of having the slightest resemblance
Makes her sick to her stomach
She refuses to accept that she is of him
Refuses to stoop that low
If he possess' a heart
It is to love himself and himself alone
Only a fool would believe
that he is capable of affection
And a fool she was.
.:Our Little Place:.Remember our little place?.:Our Little Place:.2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
where the landscape took our breath away
where the ocean waves invaded the shore
where the tulips bloomed in may
Remember the golden corn fields?
and the cool smooth breeze
the area where we spent all our time
and came home with mud at our knees
Remember those warm thunderstorms?
that shot down from above
the ones that made the sea go wild
the ones we used to love
Remember our favorite beach?
where the sand hugged our feet
where their was life everywhere
on land and in the sea
Remember where nature met its world?
and destruction didn't show its face
that was our secret hide-out
that was our little place
.:Two Lost Souls:.If you wipe off the glamour on the camera lense.:Two Lost Souls:.2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You will see how colours turn to gray
How the lamposts that light up this city
Put the misery of each soul on display
On this vast and lonely land
For miles we could walk,
Together. Not caring for the ticking of the clock
For we are just two lost souls
Wanting to be whole,
The mirror never tells a lie
Look in it and you will see
How shattered you are inside
how you look exactly like me
On this vast and lonely land
For miles we could walk,
Hand in hand.
Not caring for the ticking of the clock
For we are just two lost souls
Wanting to be whole,
On this vast land
If we walk those miles together
Alone again, never.
With enough will
we could finally fill
of our two lost souls
Let The Wounds Be UndoneLet The Wounds Be Undone1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Let The Wounds Be Undone
I heal to just be healed again...
So many wounds to mend...
My body feels no end...
Without pain there can be no relief
Last resort hope gives birth to belief
I knew there was always something better
I prayed for the days ahead to get brighter
As I lay in ruin
I feel my heart still beating
Pieces of destruction
Can be transformed into pieces of creation
Forgot about yesterday / I only know of today
The light sparks my way / Pushed the darkness away
Life is what I'm fighting for / You can't hurt me anymore
I'm stronger than before / The broken pieces are now whole
I wave my tarnished hands
Over my torn skin
My heart's no longer glass
This is my despair vanishing
I lift up my remains
And let go of the past
It's just another memory
But now here I stand
Tears will become numb!
Scars will be overcome!
Let the wounds be undone!
.:Banofee:.She cannot help but dream of her at night &.:Banofee:.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Should she forget those reveries, daylight
Never fails to remind her how things could
Have been different; Should have been different. She
Let distance take place and the memory of
Her is something she cannot erase, nor let
.:Her Soul Will Never Know True Happiness:.She was born, cursed to misery.:Her Soul Will Never Know True Happiness:.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
For from misery she was born
Brought up into poverty
And to poverty she is sworn
A life of labor is her fate
And nothing in return
No matter how long she decides to wait
Not a penny she will earn
And every lover that she'll ever know
Will never truly love her
And every heartbreak she'll have to undergo.
Will have been something she tried to deter.
For she was born, cursed to misery
For from misery she was born
And everyday will pass by bitterly
And she'll be left forlorn.
Special Soups SoupSpecial Soups Soup1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Special Soups Soup
They called him Soups. Soups used to live in an unused basement that was accessible via a small window on street level. It was only a few corners away from Soup's favorite restaurant. Many people ate there but not all finished their plates. A very nice chef worked in the kitchen there. Soups liked him because every night after closing time, he would make him chicken soup. Hence the name: Soups. He'd throw some leftover meat – he knew chicken was Soup's favorite – in leftover soup, along with some leftover pasta, rice or bread, and put it outside in a plastic box. Soups loved the leftover chicken soups. It always tasted delicious, but none tasted like the other.
Some days, Soups knew he could afford to wait until evening for his main dish, the soup, to be served, sometimes along with a short pat on the head from the chef's tired hand. But some days, the chef didn't work, so Soups walked between the tables on the terrace looking for guests accidentally drop
UnleashedUnleashed1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't know this feeling
Or how to describe it
I feel my remorse changing
I'm becoming this
Rip this rage
From my heart
Open the cage
Let me out
Break Break Break
Through the walls
Of my mind
I don't know
What I'm doing
Losing the control
Over my emotions
Take Take Take
Away the fault
It's not mine
It's been so long
Since I've felt anger
Usually I'm not headstrong
But I couldn't keep it together
Forsake Forsake Forsake
The whole world
Leave it behind
Oh how the gentle have fallen
But this is what I get
Wasted all of this time trying
Nothing left to defend
Hope is conquered
.:Five Years:.Five Years..:Five Years:.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She waited by the phone.
Waited for a call that never came.
Sometimes courageous enough to dial the number.
But not strong enough to let it ring.
She spent wondering why
Wondering how it all happened so fast.
How in the span of a day,
Family turn into strangers.
She's been trying to forget about.
Forget his very existence.
Impossible a task it's proven to be
No matter her persistence.
He was gone. No sign of life.
Yet now he speaks of love and tears.
Please do tell me, Why now after
YouYou3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Do you know how much I want you,
How anxiously I miss you.
How much is there to go without you and how my heart beats because of you.
It's like the way my heart grows,
With each moment I am with you.
Just there's never enough in lonely moments when I am not with you.
But I know how much you love me too,
How there's tomorrow for everything.
Yet your smile alone makes me think of nothing else but you.
A Voice In The WindA Voice In The Wind1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
A Voice In The Wind
I can only think of how much I miss you
The pieces of me fall
The time without you stalls
On the inside I know it's wrong
But you're still with me as I carry on
As I try and search for where my heart belongs
I can only remember of how much I loved you
I don't know what I did wrong
I'm so sorry for whatever I've done
Not knowing if I remain unforgiven
I still whisper apologies to try and make a difference
Because I can't take anymore of this lovesick conscience
I will always be lost in this storm
As it forever rages on inside of me
Because all I can do now is mourn
While this story becomes a tragedy
Wincing at the random flashes of lightning
As they blind me from the memories
All of my weakness is worth hiding
You don't know what you did to me
The harsh fall of freezing rain
Sends staggering chills all over
I bathe in this nostalgic pain
Because our heart's are no longer together
You have no idea how desperately
Papa!FrancexLittle!Reader - North American VisitPapa!FrancexLittle!Reader - North American Visit1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
This is more of a NorthAmerican!BrothersxLittle!Reader, haha
(For new readers, if you don't understand, you might want to read my other Papa!FrancexLittle!Reader's~ )
" And zhat is why I need you to watch (__f/n__) for ze day, Mathieu," Francis finished with a persuasive smile. He was going off with his best friends Toni and Gil for the day to have some 'inappropriate fun'. Francis didn't leave (__f/n__) very often; he loved her way too much to leave her in someone else's care for too long.
The Canadian hesitated his invite at first; he honestly wasn't good with kids at all since they usually forgot his presence, but in the end he ended up agreeing, when Francis had grabbed him by the shoulders, stressing the fact that he was the only person he could trust his 'petite fleur' with.
"I never knew you had another child, Francis. Hopefully you've been treating her differently than you did with me