What's Beneath? Dissociative Identities by NexusEtheric, literature
Literature
What's Beneath? Dissociative Identities
Glass walls cracked and fractured,
A world all our own where toxic gases bloom ,
The inner world the self that is cut in pieces ,
Rebuilt held together with light threads,
Locked in knots with a meaning of hope that encounters horrors before revival the heaven of perfection the eternal hour,
Sleeping minds speak,
Four vocal tones differing inner monologs convert from, Debating logic to pure reason,
To be release to breath,
When the outer perception Is reviewed showing what beholds Perceiving of a vocal singular chameleon ,
The host a possession that looks genuine,
But as natural,
As the perfection of pearls,
While three sleep dormant;
For the one speaking,
Becomes like a symbiotic lover,
Protecting the original host from destruction,
Emptiness is when I start to breath in a full blown reality,
The stillness of mental clarity,
When the inner child dissolved with agreement of safety,
While the mental code designed and a behavior like a double helix, Twisted engineered sends
Oh Disney, Oh Disney what happened to you
When I was little you glinted and glowed
Your stories were filled with sparks and life!
You made me want to watch and listen
To admire your characters and the tales you told
Now it has changed you have become bloated and fat!
You have consumed so much!
When you consumed Star Wars you snuffed out the stars
Where was the thought and the planning?
What happen to movies and shows
You canned Clone Wars when it was at its peek
You regressed and repeated the stories
The ratio of good to bad is now reversed
Instead of making new stories you are remaking old
Your stripping the cartoons and replacing with live action
When you have a good show you shorten and then cancel it
When you shorten Owl House you put the "Oww!" in Owl
What could have been a show that defined a generation that broke boundaries and soared
You snuffed out like a candle, and to the woe of the fans
You ignore what made you good and the characters of old
You remake them ruining
Animal Land Adventures by Fenixprojects, literature
Literature
Animal Land Adventures
In a land where critters play, Underneath the sun's warm ray, There's a place of joy it seems, It's time for Animal Land Adventures!
Through the trees and meadows wide, Creatures of all shapes and stride, Whiskers twitch and tails wag high, Let the animal adventures amplify.
Squirrel acrobats in the treetop show, Raccoons with masks, sly and slow, Fluttering butterflies in colors grand, Welcome to the Animal Land!
Hop along with bunnies so fleet, Listen to the songbirds sweet, In the pond, the frogs croon, Underneath the silvery moon.
Lions roar in a friendly way, Giraffes stretch their necks, so they say, Elephants with trunks held high, Beneath the open, endless sky.
Monkey chatter, parrots squawk, Waddle with penguins on an icy walk, In Animal Land, the fun won't cease, Come and join the grand feast.
With every hoof, paw, and wing, Let the Animal Land adventures spring, A world of wonder, joy, and glee, For every critter, wild and free!
Common Sense and Population by GameUniverso, literature
Literature
Common Sense and Population
“Common Sense and Population”
Common sense does not always last forever.
Or, maybe it never lasts forever.
Yeah, we do have “history” for common sense.
We discover new events and new activities over the centuries.
If that is the case, how does a “sense” keep going and going?
300 years ago, there was still “common sense” on Earth.
But, this “common sense” was different from the “common senses” before it.
Always remember that common sense is a practical mixer for evolution.
So, yeah.
300 years ago, there was common sense.
But, today, in the modern world we live in now, that “common sense” is now rare.
We might as well call it “rare sense”.
All of this change against common sense is due in part to human population changes.
Obviously, back then, Earth did not support BILLIONS of humans.
Centuries ago, there were just millions or so of humans.
For this reason, it’s reasonable for me today to say that common sense can get rare.
A sense does not need to be “nice” to be “everywhere”.
But,
My body wants to sit
My mind wants to sleep
My soul wants to create
My body wants to eat
My mind wants to fast
My soul wants to be blissful
My body wants to cry
My mind wants to be silent
My soul wants to exist
My body wants to die
My mind wants to live
My soul wants to forget
My body wants closeness
My mind wants isolation
My soul wants oneness
My body wants to be calm
My mind wants an impulse
My soul wants to play
My body wants to laugh
My mind wants to worry
My soul wants to experience
My body wants to be solid
My mind wants to be light
My soul wants to be free
My body wants to be beautiful
My mind wants to be authentic
My soul wants to just be
The tempo undemanding, the notes quietly melancholic, revered, contemplative. All in all, accepting the farewell. Gestures of the conductor’s baton. The tempo hasty, more tearful, bittersweet. All in all, more accepting of the final farewell.
By E.Elliot
Has our musing been wrong all along (is my writing wrong?)? I have called into question the concepts of objectivity and subjectivity and their regard for the existence of life. Is subjectivity personal (is this not common sense?)? Is objectivity impersonal (is this not also common sense?)?
Here lies the error. Invert the perceptions. “What are you babbling about?”
Subjectivity is the essence of the impersonal! Witness how, with defiance and tenacity, subjectivity asserts their view. Their truth. Is this not done without regard for the subjectivity of others? Are not other individualities canceled out? One experiences claustrophobia – there is no space for the synthesis of other subjectivities – they are not invited – no other truths are allowed at the table.
Objectivity is the essence of the personal! Is it not clear that with openness, honesty, understanding and reason objectivity asserts no truth but rather allows the synthesis of multiple truths. Cinders glow and knowledge is
As a youngster she thought
That monsters only existed within
The pages Of her favorite children's books
That her mother read to her
Youngster's Naively
- CzarnyKon 🐴
The hope that burns on by ArrowRinehart, literature
Literature
The hope that burns on
It shall not falter, though it will flicker
Not unlike a lamp losing light, fading in the prevailing darkness
There is much beyond words that can reach, those that sooner speak to it shall see
Yet there is no loss in that filter of focus
Where the swamp is dankest and points are grim
Never lose faith and fight with greater vim
Let it not become an issue of heart, take faith with your steps
The world was not changed in an instant and naught shall it switch now
The trial has become the change's epicenter,
Thus will become the staple with which it stands.
Never let the beat of hearts stop, remain vigilant
For there shall always be that whole piece which stands
The hope that burns on.
The bitter bean
the caffeine fruit.
Floating on a sea
of caffeination
Coffee is a glorious thing
It keeps awake
and keeps us dreaming
Sipping from s cup
There are as many ways
to take coffee
as there are
coffee drinkers
So, rejoice in the bean
slowly roasted to
bring out the flavour.
Take a sip
If, instead, you were me,
You would do no differently,
If you became the person,
I was born to be,
You would move into my mind,
Like you do a new home,
My friends would be the neighbours,
You haven’t really known,
If you lived in my life,
And answered to my name,
Whatever I would do,
well you would do the same,
So rearrange the furniture,
Decorate a better way,
When even grooming the garden,
Makes you want to move away,
If you saw through my eyes,
You’d understand because,
If you knew my reasons,
You’d put it all back how it was,
Everyone is just a visitor,
Walking on another’s street,
You never really know someone,
Just because you meet.
True love knows limits. When and why was this forgotten? What occurred (what didn’t occur) that synthesized these words into maladaptive affections of assertion? This assertion, the very action and distribution, brings about love’s nihility.
By E.Elliot & A.J.Mortimer