it kind of elusive in what your trying to say, a lost love , a new love , finding of some joy or sadness that left untold imagination of uncontrollable emotions. Or like your fighting an emotions that you dont wantto reveal your true feelings. Distant has kept such feelings pentup to release .. What is the distant of time to feel your happiness comes true? Lost in time because of the distance? or trying to hold back a thought of mood of elation at a new discovery or meeting.. . The key words missing is whether love is the pentup emotions , that cant be expressed with such uncanny situations. Or what ever is inspiring you, that you cannot approach until there is a mutual meeting: To touch , to hold,? to caress ? what emotions of the mind or elusive of these characteristics??
I greive about humanity , maybe i shouldnt, for its a bleak compllicated word, being ussed to explain a complicated conditions. humanity... Humanity deals with those who reap the beneifits of a lottery tickets, and those who toil many days without,.. I think humanity about contrasting emotions, ideals, thoughts ,events and issues. Humanity im aghast, for humanity seems to be backwards seeking ? meaning many deals with events happened in past, and cant realize the daze of the present or future. although we claim to be futuristic.. but all in all its a tough unmitigating world , dwells with many discourse , sacrifice, abuse and trivial matters. even if we see the difference , the doors allways seems to swing in the opposite direction
I believe the fellow sitting on the beach, in the sand with a santa hat , missed the last raindeer transit going to the north pole? or south pole to santa shops. Seeing that he has decided to take the cupidity , and anomaly to the existent cold weather hibernation in the cold regions of the pole to the more temperate climate , and purveying the beach, Nothing can be more langorous and serene, put away the heavy boots, and other ungamely garbs for flimsy outer garment, showing all the attributes of a well tuned body... Opps, dont get to close to the water.
my good introduction of the town fiddler, seeming its his daily routine of cause such
intertainment, not only for the crowd but for himself. That some people forget his, and deplorable sight, welcome him is such a fashion. Other may attune themselves to the routine annoyance quip. but none was boistered or attempted badgering was for long. I feel such welcome in your story would be by todays standard beyound the norm.. wwith only one or two listeners attentive of his efforts. My you should have labled it the crying violinist . but he loved his fiddle and played it as so. nice piece
I ponder , that your words on life ,and why we are here ? We can assume many origins of ideas,s or we can dwell on the acts of god. But too ponder any further ideas whether elusive or real, those who live in this life , have depleted many ideas, why are we here? nothing can be something of a misuse of ideas, and as many have abused such thoughts. Those , there are that believe that that and act of god has brought us here and those who believe it was happenstance. But it seems to wonder , and those who ponder there existence still wonder why are we here? But the statement you assume is something that need to be put to more serious thought , nice writing
that a commanding thought. But it is a social imput that is what is semmingly ego trend. What happens to one ponder all. NO doubt that who ever should concoct such missions , have been hiding some of there own egotistical mania ideas, for that what it seems to arrive at. The lame following the lame, the abusive and greedy and all the other essence of such a contract. Those that have entered into other ideas of opinion or change, even though it seems that such change may not have been imminent in there minds. And that we must look back in history, So some people embrace change, others cannot understand it , whether we accept them or not it will always happen. Look for instance to Alexander Bell , he who invited the telephone, now what has become of it
True love is a respect, when we see couples in harmonious embrace, it empowers our souls. whether we like it or not ? in it it encumbers or senses , nothing can explain it . only we want to be there, ? how to be there , and when to be there? ours senses are aware of such enlightenment , but when we look around there is nothing there but the trees, animals, abandon vehicles, and assorted or inanimate and animate intrusions into our amorous beliefs of love . So love is respect , why ? cause it something that even experienced daily in some remote place or crowded sidewalks, turns our emotions in complacent , and sometimes inanimate jestures of humanity, nice story , setting of those who love .
Is something of a paradies , to do , to have and to want, or and to inspire, sometimes soemthihg we want and do have, other times we dont need such life comraderies, man, women, etc, can score many claims whether we abhor them or adore such wants, all the feeling of emotions, cover our lives, What im meaning to say , (My opinion) is some days we are strong , other days we are weak, In any event in most issues, we wish to have or dream of the perfect relations, But nice issues and epitomes of life
nice poem, it brings to mind many ideas of contrasting thougthw, something we wish to have and something we dont want to have , opposites like night and day, but nothing can stop either of those motions , or emotions, and whether we conceal them or not, there always there? , love can empower us and it can break us, so there is not a rule how to love only beware, and hold on for the ride
nice little poem "sleep" create an inspiring tales, of peace and its fullfillment which comes to us in sleep even in the ulternate , dreams that turn into nightmares, coming so ever closer to our beds and thoughts, reaching out in def4ence or cowadice to avoid some surreal poignant blow , or falling (the feeling of ) to which we hysterically dance in and out of our beds to avoid such endings.
that is faith is a temple to the lord, nothing can be preserve better than faith, all the things that the lord has put on the earth is his to claim. whether the wicked , the deceptive , and all the others, will come to that final place, Building faith in trust not in the human bondage of greed and deception . but in the deeds , words of his book, the lord and his divinity. Peace will be with us ,and we should seek further peace from his teachings. not that of syndicators and all the other vices with which we assume power. For there is not a power on this earth greater than the higher up, Sometimes , that soul can be troublesome, But we must keep faith> I like your persona the way you describe your feelings
" hard times" no food to eat, wearing and rumblings of our nerves going thin, suffer all the heartaches cause no one cares. leaderness , pitiful and desolate, no food to eat and we stare with a blank look, not waning to look. but all in despair. Cracks , cracks in the woll, the concrete and all is unrepaired , hard times " this is what we have to pay" and that is is here to stay, political jokes , nice epitude
a solemn occasion , waiting for train to appear after some 60 years of desertion. Will there be another 60 years of the same waiting? Or whatever the case? Nice little subject , sounds like solitude is more plentiful and abundance .Nice little scenarios
humanity? is a cover story, and within the first few pages it seems that all mans troubles have been caused by some need or attention. So how do we express humanity in a form of acceptance or denial. ? i guess by our feelings? of course , when we seek to be number one when there is nothing attributes to such condition or stature of these who seek it. We use humanity to sow up some mischeivous deeds, knowing later we will return to the same path. Humanity is diversity , ignorance and denial. and love of course. Nice paradys of yours sharing your feeling of humanity. But the course goes on and on
What life schemes and plots, although the ritual maybe come be the same, its seems the pain the is different. When are the last days that we start to count? what is the beginning of life that we rejoice and seems to hold the same dividends of both worlds. Life and death , rebirth and love, the tyranny seems to cause us despair. Nothing is so enboldened in our lives than that holds our lives in such depravity, Death and rebirth, will be something better than before, surly its causes no pain to dream. LIke your poem and points to the after life and before , who do we cry to when we feel pain, when all others turn there head, how hard to mask pain and suffering and be fruitfull, when other doubt your pain;
I guess everything and everybody is (or) has competitive nature, the sun, the planets and the stars that jocky n a position for the Warm glow, that the sun give in the daily orbiting of the planets, , stars raising to an ever unreachable distance, and of course the galaxy(S) seems to mimick great dancing in the sky and latter distant reaches , listing and falling in an interplay among each other ,pulling transforming and alluding the great gravitational pull of far and distant forces. I , that competitive is a part of nature and we can see it in the evening sky of the galaxy we view from time to time as mere planets, "Competition", is nice source of information
Nice complementary of the written languages of prehistoric times., (though i am not an expert) And its plain to see that such graphics may have been created for two reason(s) communication, entertainment, and warnings. Those were dior times to say the least . So the creation of writing was it may be observed , was also a form used to communicate in pictures on wall, instead of using sign langauges, as used by the various indians in 1700s, 1800s. in the americas, pointing , or raising there hands or arms in a fashion to indicate the moon, sun or skys and heavens was duplicated in this man, other actions pointing to different areas of the body and making a movment could indicated , a conflict, confrontation or different idea of an individual or group, or describing and animal. since vocal communication was also at a limitation, Like the story though you have written
pretty catchy phases in your story, " bumpster bunny" , it alludes to depravity to being in a condition that is almost worst than death, I can say for sure what to say, cause i can only speak of my conditions for you and i are different but the same , and we have same experience there will probably have different outcomes. LIfe is unpredictable, and selfess, taking all that the claws and fangs of remorsefull predator can grasp and devour im one taking. Even though there are famous people who have lived in much worse conditions have arisen from there positions to find sustenance in a maddening world we live in. , But we are alike , alike , but different , and if i have to tell how we are different , it could take time to explain, And why we are different , can be just as misunderstood as my trying to throw a dart at a board with blindfolds on.
two extremes you say , a lucky dog and a charismatic businessman, how is that suppose to be lucky, in one extreme , maybe top dog, atomic dog, hounds of titlerville , I hope that the efficient Business man, seems to know what is real and what is not a not judge by pent up emotions, , comparision or a little understated by nice paradys in some issue.
well i was justing thinking was giving off the light shining on the stump? was it woodfire burning in the distance of a campfire? fluttering wings dancing in the airs, dancing birds jutting in an out of plays, calling to each with loud songs of threats and amusement, trying to steal the morning meals , that surface from tumbled leaves of a tree or a rotted stumped, where they seem to congregate every morning, musing to see how theyre work seems comical in nature. I thought some pieces were a vague than others but pretty good .
appealing and somewhat self aggrandizing, but that what is like to be a teenager,but there is do's and dont's in life. But i think i understand, nice little apprisal of your moods
like the portrait of rose, between two thornes, pain is couple with hate when the acts require them . Seems to be a ( i cant get hurt reason) but anyhow, i can grieve and feel the loss that is felt , but how much anger does need to be harbored, , nice poem,
its nice , but you think i could have been more of a narrative of the your story?, a virus, epidemic has gone viral in strenght , dominating the world with its rapid , vast expanse within hours or days. A swarthy path that pandemic has created , and even worst the medical teams are dying as fast as the patients. leaving and unqualified , unskilled groups desparately exhausted in there attempts of resolving this fear, panic and soon a total collapse of humanity and the last vestige of reserve that kept intolerable levels of fear from running rampant. Fear seems to cause much confusion, list of dying in masses is not seem to be a list to who is alive or dead, due to trying to keep such records updated.
That there is no fixed idea that the world has that seems so constant, We hold the many ideas of such as iconoclastic or despotic. What is considerate good next maybe considered
obsolete or an obsticle, thus is the beauty of life and the planet we call home, whatever comes from it womb or it height, its forever a change, the power that you feeling of the depth of cleanliness , wealth and absolution, there should be more deity present , if he is to guide us while we dwell in his home
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