FreedomWhat is freedom?
Freedom is being able to do whatever you want, without gaining any undesirable effects.
Freedom is a simple paradox, something impossible that we constantly seek. Is freedom that is constrained still freedom, or is it imprisonment?
If we live within a world with a free-market, although we could buy and sell whatever we want, those who make, who work for others have no freedom, they are forced to work tirelessly or face death, they are slaves of the rich, as what we would become. Whereas in a communist society, there is forced equality, you do not have the opportunity to rise above others or fall below others, you are stuck inside of a equilibrium. With laws, we can punish those who do wrong, but with laws comes the opportunity for injustice, without justice, there is no injustice. In a world without laws, we do not have the freedom of luxury, to relax inside of laws, as life would be a constant battle to survive, as it is now in lawless countries.
We are irrational cre
An Equilibrium in NihilismThe raw, brutal nature of the essence of existence may be hard to accept, but the truth is not derived from our wants and our hopes, it is not made through our optimistic aspirations, but acceptance of reality. When you find yourself in a state of absolute melancholy, and absolute state of depression and pessimism, you understand the nihilistic nature of the universe. This absolute pointlessness leaves reality a sickening place, but it is only at this state, where you can achieve what no optimist will ever find. Freedom in an uncaring state of equilibrium.An Equilibrium in Nihilism3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
You see the pointlessness of everything, that eventually it shall all be lost and forgotten, be destroyed by the passing of time and the cruel power of science and existence. However, in this pointlessness you discover something remarkable, unthinkable to those who cannot understand, a unification of everything that exists in this meaningless; as everything is pointless it is equal in pointlessness. Before you lies a communism in nih
The True Essence of ExistenceWhen I close my eyes I see darkness, but when I open them again I see the world for what it really is, it's true form. You tell me which is worse.The True Essence of Existence3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
People see hope in the world, they see it for a bright and beautiful place, but they have only seen what they want to see. There are those who live in hell and those who live in luxury, the people who live in luxury still live in hell, but they are blinded. They are indoctrinated to believe the wishes of those with power to be true. They cannot feel the world, they cannot sense it's essence they are fooled by hope and pride, a false claim to mortality by pleasing an imaginary tyrant, who penetrates every aspect of humanity, leaving violated and overwhelming sense of self-loathing.
We allow ourselves to give into this injustice to try and deny the truth, but deep down there is acceptance of melancholy, of pain and pointlessness. Release your true self, your self with anger and pain, with change and metamorphosis, with love and despair. Feel l
When I'm GoneI want to tell you something although IWhen I'm Gone2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Don’t know why I even try.
You were never the type who liked
To listen to what was on my mind,
But I’ll just keep talking anyway.
Maybe this time I’ll get through.
Here’s the thing:
I want to be the reason why
You can’t sleep at night,
Or the reason you don’t eat.
I want you to feel that twist
In your stomach when you see
Something that reminds you of me.
I want you to know the
Feeling of a heart that has been torn.
It beats in your chest, but it still isn't
Enough to convince you that you’re alive.
I want you to feel emptiness every
Time you realize that I’m not there,
And that it is because of you.
Believe me when I say I don’t
Miss you, and that I never could have
Possibly been in love with you.
I want you to see what you've done,
And actually mean it when you say you’re sorry.
I want so many things that will never happen
All because you were better than I was.
The City of My Summertowering skyscrapersladders to the next level ofThe City of My Summer3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
success unknown in such dire places where brown
buildings line every side of the streets in which corner
stores and liquor dominated shops intermarry frequently.
slow steps (public transportation at its best) take you
anywhere, every building ringing with the same familiar
sounds of jarring curses and blaring music echoing in the
gray paved streetssending feet (young and old) dancing
to the heady rhythms and fingers (both baby-smooth and
wrinkled) snapping to flighty instruments that choose when
they want to jump into the mishmash of sounds then leave
once again; discordant but soothing like the glorious place:
Brooklyn, New Yorkthe city of towering skyscrapers and elevated rhythms.
I Need You To KnowStop.I Need You To Know3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I need you to stop what you're doing
And listen to me for a second.
I need you to understand my words
Even though they fall carelessly from my lips.
It will only take a few minutes, I promise.
I need you to know that I love you,
And that I always have.
I cared for you more than myself.
Nothing else matter as long as
You were there to comfort me,
And I thank you for that.
I think you should know that when I
Woke up this morning my first thoughts
Were of you, as they are every morning.
I wanted to know how you felt,
If you were okay,
If you were thinking of me…
Now for the hard part:
I need you to know that I don't want this.
Because it completely blindsided me.
I was suddenly picked up out of this universe
And thrown into another.
And now I am constantly needing a reminder of how to breathe.
I did not ask for this.
I could have picked someone better;
Someone who would wrap their arms
Around my waist and mean it when
They say that everything is okay,
But I didn't. I didn't choose.
CrimsonRed, the vivid color stained his hands. Rivulets of crimson leaked between his fingers, falling to the pavement, turning the sidewalk the color of rust. Awareness trickled into his shocked mind; his ears now open to the shrill sirens surrounding him. The gleaming vehicles of the authorities seemed out of place on this macabre street. Soft hands touched him, coaxing his body to move, but he denied them their desires. Thrusting himself to his feet, he scrambled away from the cops trying to help him.Crimson3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
His mind whirred; his thoughts were escaping, floating into the open air. He tried to grasp them but failed, gripping nothing other than crimson digits and sightless air. He watched the words float away, birds in the sky, and longed to hold them until he himself lifted off the ground behind them.
On a whim, he turned away from the police officers watching him, glancing instead at the building in front of him. A body covered with a white, scarlet-stained bed sheet was being brought out of the
TimeIt kills kings, humbles tyrants.Time3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It turns hills into mountains
and mountains into dust.
It starts wars and murders nations.
It has seen the horrors and beauty of life.
It is unstoppable.
It is necessary.
We can never have enough.
We wish we could stop it,
but we know we mustn't.
It gives grief and acceptance.
It gives honor and treason.
Its power finite and will eventually run out.
It is all around us yet only displayed on a watch.
Our love and our hate.
Intangible, remorse and cold.
It is time.
It is time for you learn to use it,
to make every second last.
For tomorrow may be when yours runs out.
If that's the case, make sure you make every moment count.
Identity: Who I amI am not a man, I am a subconscious symbol.Identity: Who I am3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
You shall know not my name or my age, or my physical attributes that bound me to this rock. You cannot bind me to physical stereotype, as I have no body. To you, I am words. You may not know my meaning, or my intention. You will not know the context was created in, but I am here. I am neither dead nor alive. Until you catch me, I am a concept, an idea that shall live and grow in your mind whether you like it or not. I am a jester, a jester of experience. I go beyond conformity, simply because convention does not suffice. I shall go where I please, for I am the animal of thought. Dictators worst nightmare, an uncontrollable essence.
I give meaning, and take meaning away. I state what is there and what is not. I shall thrive in your conscious as you try to forget me. I shall move on to your subconscious, where I will control you. Your only chance of freedom from me, to stop me from becoming to fixation of your mind, is to embrace what I say, to
Perfection?What is perfection? A question that has plagued man since the dawn of our existence. Is it the break of a new day? In the way the the sun casts a battalion of copper and crimson tones across a vast and expanse of emerald grassland? Or maybe a crisp, untouched blanket of snow? Is it the ample, frozen cityscape? The way the crystals glisten under street lamps in the somber night, unmoving and unstirred by all means of life?Perfection?2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Perfection is the sandy coloured locks that always seem to fall effortlessly and extravagantly in front of luminous chartreuse rimmed cerulean eyes. It's in the pronounced jawline, adorned with a patch of copper-toned blonde hair, positioned just under a set of flush, opulent lips. It's the defined, herculean cheat, which looked as if it had been carved by the most beautiful of gods in the finest of marble. The lusty muscled arms, in which any one could feel cherished and guarded from the world. In the the defined hipbones and statuesque V shaped body
Childhood Dreamseffervescent desires drawn on the concrete sidewalkChildhood Dreams3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the rosy, pink lines forging memories now disappeared
within the harsh realities of life (destroyers of childhood
dreams) nothing but faded outlines left behind vague
remnants of a time when I wanted nothing more than to
have my first popsicle of the summer and run from those
pesky bees, always attracted to mewhether I was wearing
yellow or not. later on I was thankful for those same bees
they seemed to be the only ones that cared when it came time.
summer months spent running on harsh asphalt, mornings
full of Bible scriptures and camp songs, playing kickball, and
falling down (leaving a massive gash on my knee) before
rising like nothing happened, rushing to return to the games
and drawing the most perfectest picture on the ground
never realizing it only took a single rain shower to wash away
thirty minutes of hard work, mosquito bites, and missed play
time it only took a single rain shower to
a thought. For some people, librairies are like cathedrals. They are places to be safe in. I can sit surrounded by books and feel the same peace a Christian might feel in church. Nature can be the same. A bench by a lake is a place of refuge. A makeshift seat on a bridge in the woods is a place to enjoy the sun and think about life.a thought.2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
I have only been in church twice, never a synogogue or temple. But I don't understand them the way I understand the beauty of a quiet place. I respect the whisper of leaves and the hushed voices in a gallery. I appreciate rolling waves and shuffling feet, turning pages and soft music. These are things familiar to me. This is what is comforting.
To Make You GreaterSince the first day I had a plan for youTo Make You Greater2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I had a idea that I wanted to carry out with
I had the idea of true greatness for you
I was given the idea not on my own
Since the first day you feel under my wing
Under my protective wings of a eagle who has been through a lot
I had planned such greatness for you
A process that was not by accident or coincidence
Since that day I always dreamed of teaching someone what greatness is
Not the kind of greatness that makes one perfect, but true greatness
True greatness my student, true greatness
I dreamed of that ever since, and now it's finally happening
Since that day I hoped and prayed that you will someday understand what I'm teaching you
Understand what I'm really doing for you
It's a mystery for you to understand by now
But I know and have faith that you will like it
Since that day I have been always proud of you
Teaching you with the best of patience I can think of
Imagining that moment when your mystery is finally clear
Imagining the greatnes
Imbittered Exhalesbreath fails me as theImbittered Exhales2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
urban smog stalls every
inhale and infects every
exhale tinged with the bitter
tang of self-righteousness, ill-found
and ill-deserved positions of high office,
they are your senators… corruption vilifies
those in vaulted seats, mocks of those stuck
in the threshold of the American middle class,
and punishes those trapped within poverty’s clutch;
they promise good fortune and no problems—lies
spread throughout every crevice of every town of
every state steal my breath—I cannot breathe
through the self-serving stench of hypocrisy
An AutographThe event made headlines across the globe. The New York Times published an article titled, "Superman Traumatizes 8 year-old". The tabloids made millions following the article's first release. Snapshots of the scene flooded the internet and earned hundreds of sites the salary of a Forbes 500 company ten times over. The total revenue of the global marketplace increased drastically over the course of a single month. The world economy jumpstarted to enter a new Golden Age. One event tipped the economy of the globe on its shoulder, everything due to a little boy wanting Superman's autograph.An Autograph3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The brawny superhero had been wandering down Times Square plaza with Batman, Wonder Woman, and Green Arrow taking in the sights they rarely were able to see in the middle of stopping evil from taking over the world. The quartet was just passing the construction workers trying to fix the damage of the last attacks made by Luther when the crowd approached. So focused on the screaming fans in front
WildflowerI think you’d look nice in a field,Wildflower2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Maybe sitting down.
You’d probably wear that hat you always do,
And possibly that scarf you like, too.
You’d definitely be sitting down.
It might end up being a warm day.
Definitely with a cool wind,
Just strong enough to run through your hair.
You would gently sunburn ‘cos you’re quite fair,
But I think you like the wind.
We’d make gentle impressions on the grass,
And aimlessly chatter
About our favourite bands and what’s for tea.
You’d probably tell me I’m a bit crazy,
But I think that’s why we chatter.
You would look nice in a field
Full of dandelions.
You’d tilt your head, angled at the sky
And a particular plant would catch my eye,
Maybe a bluebell or a daisy.
But I think a dandelion would suit you best.
Vibrant yellow flares.
Every single one of them stands out proud,
They are themselves to every crowd.
I think you’re a wildflower.
Standing in the backgroundI fade away,Standing in the background2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So others can shine.
So others can lead.
I break my own heart,
So others will be complete.
Because others will smile.
I stay up all night,
So others can sleep.
When you go to play,
I’ll be a toy
So you will have someone to play with.
I’ll be walking in the background.
When you read the book,
I'll be a random character.
When you look at me,
You know my name.
Even if just for a day,
Or an hour,
Or a second,
I would like to stand in the front.
I want to be seen by others.
To see people know my name,
Instead of standing in the background.
Doyle's CuriosityDoyle had never seen or touched a dollar bill.Doyle's Curiosity3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Of course, he had heard about what was called now as physical moneybut it was only in the context of "It's a good thing that we all got rid of physical money a long time ago. It's really less hassle!"
Doyle was used to the concept of EC. After all, it was all he had known, and he had possessed an EC card since he was eight years old. That was the age the government gave children EC cards, and parents were required to place an allowance (however meager they wished) into the card.
EC, or electronic currency for short, was adopted by the United States and most European countries before Doyle was born, and even before his parent's time. The switch to EC had been done rather quickly, by an exective order by the president of the day, so he had heard. There had been government sponsored bonfires of paper money, and most coinage was seized by federal officials and melted into ore. That was all Doyle had heard about the transfer to EC. Most p
Us and DeathWhen you are young and a family member dies, you don't understand the full extent of reality. You know so little, and with that life seems bliss. But as you advance, you understand the pain, the extent of the emotional implications. Then you grow older still. You turn egoist, the sense of asking; "Why is this all happening to me?" We let ourselves think that we are special, the centre of hate or anger of something, perhaps of a divine being, or just humanity itself. We allow ourselves to place a crown of significance upon our heads when really we are all the same.Us and Death3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Then, one day, you just feel it. An intuition which leads to realization, which leads to meaningless. You realize your insignificance in the world, how futile your attempts to change that will be. We learn to accept death. When others forget, it stays with us, it never leaves us, we just learn to cope. As we carry on trudging through life, others will avoid us, will sneer at us and brand us. They patronize and judge. But we c
SilenceThey say speaking is silver and silence is gold,Silence3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In some cases it might be true.
But there is also a truth that goes untold,
Even if it might be quite blue.
Silence is sometimes bad,
Not always so don't get upset.
Some things that are evil can make us go mad,
Some things that are even a threat.
Even if your enemies will make your blood boil,
The silence of your friends will be what hurts you more.
Words might hurt us, but silence can torment us.
Joy in the AbyssThe world we live in may be overwhelmingly sad and depressing. Life may be pointless and eventually we shall all be forgotten and time shall carry on. In this humbling thought, a thought which can seemingly bring one down to earth, to see darkness, you must remember that you are here, and that you are not bound to live in despair and agony. You can find happiness and fulfillment in freedom, if you know how to get there.Joy in the Abyss3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
You must never forget your beliefs, never forget who you are, find enjoyment but remain yourself. It is possible. You must show passion for the things you love. You only get to experience the word once, so why restrict yourself to a cage? You have the opportunity to be free. You must forget all your previous misgivings and start afresh. Live as a free person, who doesn't accept censorship or boundaries. You are you, and you are amazing.
You never have to feel one way. Empower yourself with the freedom of thought. You can pretend and resent, you can hide yourself under l
SlenderBetter keep moving,Slender3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Evade his deadly grasp.
His long, tendril arms
Inching ever closer.
Nothing will stop him.
Darkness hides him,
Obscured by the vast
Unknown. But he's always...
PurpleI would paint my heart purple, if it meant I could stand by you.Purple2 years ago in Scraps More Like This
I would do that for you.
But I know you don't like the color purple.
So I won't.
Ink GravesLetterless words and pageless books-Ink Graves3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and ink blots on the flowers;
Ghosts scratch their heads and tap their pens,
all across the hours.
Winds can howl and cease to be,
by one twitch of my pen;
I spoke of writing a poem tonight,
and by dawn I've written ten.
Emily sits aside nobody,
the Raven, above, waits;
Frost dances in a yellow wood,
among the long lost dates.
A tall, well spoken willow,
looms over the grave;
Protecting every dated word,
and every thought they gave.
I crumple another masterpiece,
with thoughts I'd thought to save;
and as it strikes the baset bottom,
it rests in its ink grave.
Pride and Acceptance ?They loathe me;Pride and Acceptance ?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
they shout the worst words
(the kind that encircle you like flies; relentless) -
burning, scathing words.
It doesn't matter. I don't care what anybody else says.
I am alone, shunned.
I curl up in the wastelands
of something I once recognised
as my most intimate identity,
but now feels foreign and outlandish;
They're just words. I don't have to let them get to me.
I am proud.I don't need anyone elseto accept me;I accept myself.