November 2011
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Another day, another bag of chips.
I finished a bag of kettle-cooked chips today and have all the cuts on my tongue to prove it. When I haven’t indulged in something as simple as a bag of chips in quite a long time, my cravings become monstrous to the point of no return. Mid-chew, I reached into the bag and realized the bag was one chip away from being tossed out.
What is savoring food?
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Mutated beauty.
It’s so easy to slip into someone else’s life for a while when much of our time is invested into a somewhat relative television series or film of choice. I often wonder whether I would be the main character of a film if our lives were composed as documented screenplays, or just an extra. What does it even take for someone to be the main character of their own life? In all dimensions,...
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Spice girl.
What’s this? My mother complimenting and sharing my Pumpkin Spice Cake with her friends? I overheard this bit of news before walking down the hallway. It’s truly a happy Thanksgiving weekend here. ♥
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We are
mysearchforwisdom:
Artists are the voices in the dark who speak in rhyme- and paint existence- in glowing tapestry’s, of freevurse/prose…
For we think in heartbeats, Dreaming only of poetry, We view the world in shades of- transcendent beauty,
Our eyes ever watchful, ever observant of our beautiful mess, seeking out the poets quest,
To capture the tiniest bits of life, in poetic...
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All for a bicycle.
I woke up as the heroine of a horror flick that my mind constructed in deep slumber. Needless to say, I equally felt unsettled and settled all the while. Everything still seems so surreal, as if I’m still in it. My heart was probably beating right out of my chest for the duration of (according to some brief dream research) 5-45 minutes.
The antagonist of the story, a friend, was behind...
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And I have learned that even land-locked lovers...
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Dressed in stress.
Content with oneself in the face of defeat? Difficult, but not impossible.
There’s no sense in beating myself up about something that I’m still in the process of learning. You see, reader, I never knew how much my ADD could limit my coordination until I took a modern dance class this Fall semester (seems silly, but read on). It doesn’t matter whether you’re the popular or...
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Just once and no more.
You only tire of losing hours in which you’d spend staying awake Patronize me; gnaw at my flesh for Goodness’ sake Pull at me until my hair falls out; pick at me until there’s nothing left What tears? There’s a drought where my eyes have wept Eight years younger — naive and innocent; so wild, so free Was she worth all this? I never knew you and you, me
Off the...
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humoringthefates replied to your post: I’m living in the wrong era.
I feel that way sometimes
I’ll look you up when they build the first time machine, perhaps one that’s carefully disguised as a police telephone box. It’ll just be you, me, Doctor Who, and the Tardis.
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I'm living in the wrong era.
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I'll never forget that man and the way he spoke;
he lives inside my brain. He often told me stories, of which was none but dreams - I awoke only to sleep again.
I’d close my eyes and there he’d be, sweet and kind, and in no bind, for I’d see him and he’d see me.
When I open them, my eyes I mean, that man, he is only part, not whole of whom I dream.
He is perfection in my heart’s perception, but I know with...
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Fact #20-something or other.
My wits and sarcastic humor like to hide when I’m talking to a guy totally out of my league, that I happen to fancy lots. They only come out to play when we’re in a group of friends or on the internet where no physical interaction can happen. A socially awkward girl may sound adorable, like that of New Girl’s Zooey Deschanel, but without a watching audience that favors awkward,...
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Attacking an unsuspecting, ill-prepared heart.
You’re a big tease, but really. I’m not fixed yet.
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