#365daysofwritings

[thatmessofadaydreamer]

Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

Mark Twain

26/365

I chose this quote as today's entry because it's a self reminder I feel I will need a lot during this journey

[365runesofthesystem]

58 Crazy In Love

She blinks, stares at him as the foreigner takes a second of shock before blushing hard at him. 

The foreigner murmurs out a reply, bows quickly before running away, leaving him to stare after them confused.

She steps up, coughs before looking at the ground. 

“Well I know I told you to share your feelings freely but I wasn’t expecting a confession.”

He turns to her, gives her a look.

“What did I say?”

She blinks, sighs before rubbing at her temple. 

“You told him you were crazy in love with him.”

He stares, the confusion slowly falling away to complete horror before the blush attacks his face and the embarrassment sets in. 

“I said what!?”

She blushes herself but nods, looks away as he falls onto his haunches and groans, burying his head in his hands.

“I am such an idiot! He probably thinks I am a freak!”

She coughs, glances at him before looking away.

“Actually, from his response, he sounded kinda happy, albeit a bit surprised. You probably just caught him off-guard.”

He stares at her, watches as she glances at him again. 

“Really?”

“Really.”

He blushes harder, for a different kind of embarrassment, throws his head back into his hands to hide the giant smile.

She rolls her eyes, smiles too as she looks away. 

“Is it stupid to be happy?”

“Maybe a little. Then again, you were never too smart.”

“Right, thanks.”

“Mhm.”

[threesixxtyfive]

Moving

Friends, I’m officially moving off of Tumblr and revamping a blog project I started a few years ago. If you’d like to follow my writing there, I’d love to connect at twomilksnosugar.wordpress.com.

Yours,

T

[leonrochamusic]

Ancestors August 9th, 2020 History can only repeat itself when we expect the world to be different without first shifting personal perspectives towards the broader whole. In remembering our ancestors, we honor their lives, the sacrifice made for us to breathe this moment. Without them, there is no you, no now, no then. Thank you.

[gotheconfusedbookworm]

Words Everyday #28

The delicious blinding, yearning of the young

waved into silence

drunk as usual

somebody who spoke my own language

how violently I have missed you

A girl must use her opportunities.

[pomegranateichor]

this is the moment of giving up, this is one second where the world gets tilted the wrong way, and everything starts changing.

i was alone, walking on a beach made of glass before its glass, and the water looked like glass. the sun cutting itself into shards on the surface, my life a mosaic for once. there was a mosaic in the first house. and it looked so out of place, among the shabby, function-made clothes and the worn furniture. it was a picture of some battle, some war i didn’t remember. none of the people had faces. that month was the hardest month of my whole life. so hard, most days the sun went down like something was forcing it to. most days i didn’t see the sun at all. and all through that i never gave up. but then after that there was another house, and more mosaics, turning battles into victories instead of just bloodshed.

turning people into people with faces. another month of not giving up, of holding a ball of steel in my stomach, getting used to not sleeping. all that and more. the first day of paradise, i wasn’t ready. i knew what everyone else had wanted of me. and i knew how to give enough of it without losing myself. but this one was different. all the walls and the floor too were bare. no battles. no bloodshed. i wasn’t ready for it. i went six weeks without giving up, and without being asked to. when i finally did give up, it was a very gentle thing. more gentle that it had ever been in my entire life. more gentle than i thought was possible. when i finally gave up, i did it unbound, un-coerced. uninhibited.

[mabhsavage]

Delighted to be back on the #MoonBooks blog with some brand new poetry for the start of 2022, inspired by, er, writing a poem for someone else! I also talk a little about my renewed interest in #Loki. I wrote this piece a little while back, and just today I posted another Loki poem on my own blog, not realising the other blog was also being published today, and I’m sure the Trickster finds this very amusing! I can’t imagine Loki minds the additional attention. 🔥 Copy and paste this link or use the LinkTree in my bio: https://www.johnhuntpublishing.com/blogs/moon-books/moon-books-poets-2-mabh-savage/ . . . #FridayFeeling #FridayReads #WritingCommunity #Poetry #365DaysOfWriting #Pagan #PaganPoetry #Lokean https://www.instagram.com/p/CY_0mo6sti_/?utm_medium=tumblr

[irishbluejay]

Went to back to my roots on this one. It doesn’t have a name yet #365daysofwriting #writersofinstsgram #poetry #blue #sunset https://www.instagram.com/p/CKf8AMvhn3L/?igshid=va05m9l1glts

[maya-ki-duniya]

Each morning

As I drive down the winding road

My toes cold

Breeze invading my clothes

I watch the flowers blossom

Covering in their beauty

The long barren branches

All these weeks

I have watched those

Branches come to life

But only today it struck me

That spring was arriving

Not just on branches

But even in me

The cold wind each moring

Was fanning adament embers

Of passion

Which has wandered off

And got lost

In unknown corners of me

All this while they glowed low

But the cold wind

Had done

What needed to be undone

It was no longer

Just the flowers

Which blossomed

With them there are aslo

Blossoming a thousand me

~Maya ki Leela

[bipolarstrongmom]

A Daughter Gone

A Daughter Gone. Published

She left without warning,

She never said goodbye.

No notice, no signals, gone.

In despair a mother weeps.

How has her little girls grown so distant?

‪Where did she go wrong, ‬

a mother cries in silence,

for the love of her child,

no other can compare.

She’s gone without caution.

A little girl growing up,

and she will world so cold. She’s turned away from family, all she’s ever known,

for reasons she hold tight.

©Christina M

1/2018

#Poetry #saddness #365daysofwriting

[thatmessofadaydreamer]

I decided to study foreign languages because I love literature, and I wanted to see with my own eyes, without the interposition of the translator, how the authors of my favourite books really felt.  I wished to read those emotions directly from the source. 

However, now that I try to put on paper and ink how I feel, I realise that nothing we read is devoid of translation and that when I try to convey my feelings via words lots of things get lost in translation.

And I wonder if it's always like this or if it's because I myself am not able to read with a clear mind my own emotions.

[365runesofthesystem]

43 You Bastard

A shriek makes him look up from his book, see her staring at her laptop.

"No, no, no, no, no."

He watches as she scrolls, sees her face grow more horrified as she reads whatever is on the screen.

"No, please, how could you!?"

He puts his book down, sighs as he turns to her.

"What happened?"

She jabs at her keyboard, groans in frustration.

"This... Stupid piece of... I can't believe they would do this!"

He nods, taps his book.

"Okay, but what happened?"

She slaps the keys, gives him a glare.

"This piece of bathroom graffiti just posted a another fanfic - and it is a really good one, you should really read it later, not the point - and, not only did she leave it on a cliffhanger but, this little ball of dust bunnies just.."

She throws her hands up in anger.

"IT HAS BEEN THREE YEARS!?"

He sighs.

"Why do you like her again?"

She sighs, clicks around on her laptop.

"Because she writes beautifully and I love her."

"She left a fic with a cliffhanger for three ye-"

"SHE IS OBVIOUSLY WORKING ON IT."

"Okay."

He waits, gives her a look before picking up his book again.

And only get two sentences in before another shriek comes from her.

"YOU BASTARD, DON'T GIVE ME A DRABBLE, UPDATE YOUR FIC."

He sighs, turns the page.

[aggressivelydrinkingtea]

I’m Angry

When you ask someone who has the ability to see what color, what color they associate with anger it’s always red. What about passion? Red. Can we talk about jealousy? That’s green. And about greed? That’s green. All cousins, intertwined with one another. Can you have one without the other? Anger, it’s just a secondary emotion, and yet, it’s one of the first that springs from our lips in rage. “You make me so angry!” and you do. It starts in my  toes and just like a cartoon I can see it going up, reaching my brain at last. It goes fuzzy and that’s all I can think about. I can’t focus on anything but that static of my brain, the aching in the back of my skull. It’s all I can think about. It consumes me. 

It’s a good thing it doesn't happen very often, only when the values I hold closest to me are questioned, they’re tested. Even the small thing, the ones that seem insignificant. It can all trace back to one of the things I hold dear to me. A secondary emotion. A hardness in my heart. 

A smile, a good meal, a song that makes me want to dance. A stubborn man, that hates to see me upset. His very bad jokes that always make me smile. My heart softens. 

[thisis-ornella-blog]

[8/365] “you have more protective film to peel” - the cycle of a life upgrade #365daysofwriting . . inspired by my current hunt for a new phone, ha. have you gotten a new phone lately? if so, which one?. . . . . . #writing #writingofig #dailywriting #writinglife #writersofig #writersofinstagram #prose #prosepoetry #spilledink #thisisornella #thisisornellawrites #upgrade #lifeupgrade

[gotheconfusedbookworm]

Words Everyday #27

The grass was green back when the rain meant puddles.

Puddles for jumping not puddles for drowning.

The days were warm back when the sun didn’t mock the moon.

Bleeding innocence the world was safe

Mind calm

When the night was no battlefield but a land of sleeping dreams.  

[pomegranateichor]

you went running, you remember that?

the way the rain slanted everything just a little, hiding your tears for you (as if god was looking down at your red heart) and all the lights in the whole town were suddenly forgettable.

and the world forgot.

forgot the headlights, and the streetlights, and the lights that were supposed to be on the sneakers you threw at the sun, the light in your eyes and the one in your heart, pouring yourself out to save something.

i said that all the lights went out.

and that’s true.

and while i was busy wishing for light,

light was busy rushing in.

two lights on a car you didn’t see.

two lights on a car that couldn’t see you.

you, in the road with a dead bird in your hand, wishing it back to life.

pouring yourself out, mixing in with the rain, all the lights back and too bright,

and me screaming your name, screaming

“please god do not let that boy die”

and he didn’t.

instead he took my legs for a while, and i swear those casts itched more than anything in the world.

more than the questions, and the praise and the tearful gratitude, as if i made a choice to do that. to save you.

the one thing you weren’t worth saving for was that itching.

we don’t talk about it, i close it up inside a lockbox and drown the box,

i keep you from talking about it, because it makes you cry.

you talk about it anyway.

and after you move too far away to talk about it, you write about it instead.

i take all the letters and lock them up to, but i keep this one safe.

in the end, it’s the space of the matter.

all this wide open space to be small into.

all this wide open land to become something, under our feet kissing the ground like a lover.