I wish people didn't want to touch me.
Feel the real inside the numb insanity. Breath into cold skin. Make these layers so burning hot like living solar flares melting the thoughts in our head. Hold my hand. Get away before it's over. You wouldn't understand. I can only feel your demand. Melt the thoughts before things get out of our hands. The this you see. It's not really me. Think about this. Hard to think of how lonely it is. when two lovers are intertwined in emotionless bliss. What fun is to be had when your fires burn grey and meaningless. @daydreamingphoenix
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I haven't committed to writing poetry in almost a year. I stopped because of sadness and busyness. Coming to terms with reality, i know that i can make time for it to both push for my creative mind once more and start a strong outlet for my thought and sometimes my emotions. Sometimes these will be raw and unprofessional. Sometimes they will be cryptic and allusive. No matter what they will always be mine and for those who choose to read them I hope they prove interesting since they provide insight into who I am and the way i think.
I will have to figure out a more appropriate schedule but for now except at least one weekly by Tuesday at midnight. Hope you enjoy. Here's an example to start this off with somecommitment. Not everyone knows this. Been looking for something for a long time. Like a shine that's bright. But when it leaves it's hard to feel the light. Purity didn't feel so great but It will always be better than this. Spending night after night missing the innocence. @daydreamingphoenix Ernest Hemmingway is well known for writing simple stories with many relevant complex themes and hidden metaphors throughout. Ernest Hemmingway's "Hills Like White Elephants" is a prime example of this flavor he's so well known for. In this story he displays an argument with a couple trying not to reveal what it's about while giving subtle hints to it and metaphors in the back ground of the story. The woman in the couple eventually has to make an alluded to choice over the argument's topic and that is what most find interesting about this short very scenario concentric story.
I personally find it funny when something big like an event or new path in life can shine some light on what actually matters or what is the actual foundation of a relationship. I think the woman in this relationship agrees and finds it sad, she seems strong in the way that she now realizes she doesn't actually need the man she's with. Although I think the woman will leave him, I have alot of trouble understanding their feelings and intent. The two characters are almost bleak in tone but it seems like the man is trying to appear passive to the issue while passing shame and pushing his real desire toward the woman. Overall I do think they will part ways and she will raise the child and find a man who will love her for all she is and not try to passively control her while drinking low quality beer. This next blog, is about the thought process that goes through many when making the tough choice of lying. Some see it as natural easy, some think it carries a awfully shameful burden and something it's right on occasion where as many get stuck in their lies which only make them grow into more and more lies like a vibrantly wild weed in the canopy of a rain forest In the podcast "what you dont know" by Lulu Wang hosted by This American Life Ms. Wang describes in detail how her and her family had to make a heart wrenching decision to hide her grandmother's mortal illness. In this blog I will give my thoughts on her decision and a time where I went through something similar.
I think it is extremely difficult to say whether I can agree with Ms. Wang's family's decision. I try to keep an open mind an understand the family's cultural background backing the decision but as a human trying to relate to both The grandmother and Ms. Wang I cannot with good conscious say I agree with it. I personally think I would feel cheated and even less loved in my end, especially since, i was lied to and didn't get to feel at peace with myself by preparing/ doing everything i wanted to do before i finally fell ill. Also I think trying to know what's best for someone else and acting on that belief is almost always in the wrong since nobody can truly see in someone else's shoes. and trying to live out the potential joy of not telling someone their illness seems overall selfish to me. Sure one can say that this is more of a caring action because the grandmother gets to live out her last days in some joy but in the beginning going through all the family member's heads was their desire to see her one last time to finalize things for them self, not necessarily settle things for her grandmother's sake. In the middle of my Junior year in high-school I got to know many people. Expressing myself and getting more social was a minor goal of mine so it came with the new crappy adventures of high-school life. Eventually I came to know a very troubled girl named Ellie. We grew to be fairly good friends for a time. Along with this new friendship, I tried to care for her and make her acknowledge her problems with a considerate positive nature. She had been developing severe self-harming tendencies and a form of anorexia which only got worse and worse as I grew to know her and her stress in life grew aswell. Nobody in her family friend circle or even her boyfriend knew of her troubles and she wasn’t trying to seek help at all. The most she was doing was talking to me which I did not mind, but as many know, I’m not a professional, im just a guy who cared. There came a point where I had to realize how bad her relying on me was for the both of us. It was both quite draining for me, and I didn’t help in any wholesome long term way for her. Eventually I told her aunt and cousin who were both very concerned and troubled. We’re not on speaking terms so much right now but I think what I did was necessary in the end sometimes people cant help themselves unless they want to and I think what I did for her is at least somewhat pushing her in the right direction without taking control of her life. Maya Angelou is a critically famed writer and has told many stories with a slight coming of age theme to them. These stories are taught in schools for both their great life lessons and structure in which she writes. One of her most famous novels, “I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings” has been taught in many schools because of it’s memoir nature and themes learned in the author's life. In this Blog i will analyze and state some studies on the excerpt from the novel known as “My name is Margret”
Margret made a somewhat costly decision in this excerpt. Breaking Mrs. Cullinan’s dishes purposely just to get a laugh seems like a unnecessarily risky move when in her situation she is practically powerless and can be harshly reprimanded at any point and time. In her situation I would take on the perspective of someone who’s more of a survivalist and not take any such risks. Especially when the people i live with and work for would never forget any flaw ive ever had made or any inconvenience i would ever cause them. However i cannot really blame her for making such a decision since she is very young and such reckless and spiteful decisions are common at a young age and can be learned from thanks to whatever consequences may happen afterward. I myself have made many decisions in my younger age that i have regretted as i’m sure all humans have. For instance once when i was fourteen i decided to be a pouty little adolescent and not wear my uniform to school. Went to Collegium Charter School in Exton Pa and it was a harsh requirement to wear a uniform on the daily. Something I hated since unless it was a gym day i was made to wear a tucked in Polo and khaki pants every day. Being restricted in such a way only gave me more of a desire to rebel against the social norms put for the in that school. Anyhow one hot summer basic day I was just plain fed up. I dressed in the normal uniform, even the tucked in polo that i hated so much, did all my normal hygiene behaviors and hopped on the bus to go to school. Now here’s the important part. My bus ride is an hor ride, i have no clue why since its never full but anyways I end up sleeping on the bus ninety percent of the time most of the ride. This time i did as well but instead of sleeping the whole way I redressed with the blue polo hoodie i brought from my home and the airy shorts probably made in some sad sweat shop in south asia. I was so happy. So relaxed. And getting off the bus with that anxious smile on my face only made things better. I was immediately yelled at and sent to the office to not do any work all day and sat there for a great many hours happy with the decision i had made. |
Alexandre Marc MoretThis blog is to progress my writing skills, education, and create an audience. Archives
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