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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/2292262-Blog-2023/day/5-18-2023
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by NelY Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Book · Writing · #2292262
... where my muse goes for 2023 ...
... here is where my muse goes for 2023 ...
May 18, 2023 at 11:55pm
May 18, 2023 at 11:55pm
#1049822
         The threads of existence are coming undone, leading to a volatile breakdown of the surrounding reality; it is collapsing. The clown found himself overwhelmed by a tumultuous river of emotions; his small vessel tossed and turned until he could no longer keep his head above water. Like a melancholic conclusion to a verse, he succumbed to his own tears and drowned. The storm descended upon us, and the crow claimed its victims. I, too, felt a call to depart from this place, for my time here was drawing to a close. No one can remain eternally in this world, not here. The culmination of my journey arrived shortly after the curve of this path. Whenever I ponder the future, an ominous feeling engulfs me, and I cannot shake it off. The road that lies ahead appears to be shrouded in ambiguity and fraught with the possibility of unforeseen obstacles. The future seems comparable to a dimly lit alleyway that stretches on endlessly—a desolate view that proffers no respite as hardships mound.
May 18, 2023 at 10:24am
May 18, 2023 at 10:24am
#1049789
         There'll be other ones after this one. They just keep on comin', and comin' from them—darn. The drums beat me down like a madman; to some, the divine has abandoned us; surrender to closure and the end. Everything's throbbing in my stomach. It feels as though a tornado is raging inside of me, and I'm being turned inside out like a drill as a result. I can't take it any longer; it's beyond my strength. Whether you like it or not, there's nothing you can do about it; it's coming—the "f-art".
May 18, 2023 at 8:14am
May 18, 2023 at 8:14am
#1049780
         I am. Each and every one of them had been affixed to the wall with a pin. I have always found solace in the unpredictable chaos of life. To me, it is like a beautiful symphony, with each note playing its own unique role in creating a harmonious whole. So, I toss in whatever I want, allowing the pieces to fall where they may. It may appear as a confused mess to others, but to me, it is perfectly orchestrated—a masterpiece. For a fleeting moment, they entered my world, only to disappear without a trace. Their intensity is glaring. I found myself unable to discern the direction they would take. When the final chapter of one's existence draws to a close, the particulars become inconsequential. As the final act drew to a close and the theatre fell into silence, I could still discern the faint melody of the stout soprano resonating within the shadows. What ensued was a sense of tranquilly for me—finally, it arrived.
May 18, 2023 at 5:23am
May 18, 2023 at 5:23am
#1049777
         He stood there, gazing, just watching the train pass by him again and again, like it was a dream, waving goodbye each time. He put in his effort, and he wasn't the least bit timid; he wasn't giving up. That depiction flawlessly captures his essence. He held onto the conviction that his spirit bore wings, enabling him to soar among the highest stars—the sleepy heavens above.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/2292262-Blog-2023/day/5-18-2023