Not a poet, nor a writer. Just wanted to express my effing feelings. I know you don’t give a shit, but just so you know, I have a messy hair, messy room, and messy life. Everything is just a mess.
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Ang hirap kasi talaga yung gising sa gabi at tulog sa umaga. Paano ba matulog? Paano matulog sa tamang oras? Paano?
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What keeps you going everyday?
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Halikanaaa! Punta tayo sa Mars. 💫
untitled by Chloe-Ann on Flickr.
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“To the kid in the corner
trapped in the shadows of doubt.
Passing time till its over,
just hoping one day you’ll be found.”
The White Rabbit by Gabriela Tulian on Flickr.
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Being a Passenger in my own life
Do you ever get that feeling, that you are just passing by your life?
You wake up, just so you can wait until you can go to sleep again in the evening.
You go to work just to wait until you can go home again.
At work you think about all the stuff you gotta do as soon as you get home, but in the end you are not gonna do them anyway.
You just wait until that day is over as well.
And this cycle starts all over again the next morning.
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Breaking down
Feels like falling. Feels like being stuck in place.
You hear everything but can’t grasp the meaning.
Everything around you gets bright and sharp, but you can’t see a thing.
You slow down. You accelerate. Everything moves so fast
People around you get numbed out, yet you can still make them out clearly.
You are surrounded by people. You are alone.
You can’t move. You run away.
You need to be alone. You need someone to help you.
You cry. You keep a poker face.
No one notices. You want everyone to notice.
You are painfully alive. You are dying.
You just wanna escape.
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Spending some quality time with your pet cures everything for a while.
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Trapped
in your own body.
Do you sometimes get that feeling you are not really, well, “you”?
Because it feels like it’s not you, who pulls the strings.
That hand movement your body just did, you didn’t do that.
These words coming out of your mouth, why do they sound so strange and unfamiliar?
Why is the room surrounding you so blurry?
You are not looking down on yourself, like it is with the so called “depersonalisation”.
You know you are inside your body, but at the same time, this body doesn’t belong to you.
It moves on its own accord.
You can’t control it anymore.
It functions without you.
It wakes up, walks, eats, drinks, goes to the loo, falls back asleep.
Everything on its own, without your interference.
And I am sitting here, wondering, have I crossed that point where my body does all the work, because my mind is so damaged?
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The Void
Breah Koller
This story is one of the February Writing Challenge entries chosen to be a featured story.
“I feel myself sinking lower and lower into the abyss, and my eyes glimpse upward, Catching reflections of sunlight, shards of yellow glass disappearing into thick dark ooze. Its brightness stings my eyes. I’d rather remain here, untouched by the light, entombed in a void of my own creation.”
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