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elljaycee
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unkempt
Love. Hate. Absence. Pride. What, in this world, is meant to be beautiful? To be orderly? To have purpose? Unkempt are the memoirs of my heart filth smeared and scattered in an unlit room.
tales
They say a happily ever after is just around the corner, but they never tell you which corner, on which street, in which city...or state.. or country... It's just another tale... just another fairy tale. MY happy ending begins now.
spent
A very fine line divides time wasted and spent in matters of love
major
Major pain, Major strain, Everything's major.. When he's majorly vain... and with nothing to tame, the mess that he's made I leave it the same, in the wind it will fade...
tasting
Slightly bitter at first, then leaves a sweetness lingering on the taste buds. You want more. You want the full experience. You know you'll savor every mouthful. But it was only a taste. How delightful it would be to spend all eternity tasting something so wondrous, so bittersweet.
capture
We spend all our lives trying to capture what is out of reach, becoming so absorbed with our goals, our future....what we want to achieve. our past...what we let slip through the palms of our hands... (or perhaps who). we become completely absorbed with the moments we can no longer live... or the experiences we are waiting to delve into, we have convinced ourselves that we are living, when, if truly we had learned to live, we'd capture the moments we are given, as. they. come. Simply. Capture. The Moment. Seizing every opportunity. Enjoying every bitter emotion, every rotten fit of joy. Capture the essence of living. Simply live.
town
It isn't quite mine anymore... Wandering around. Lonely... Yet completely whole. Completely full... Something like a ghost town... complete with the fear of becoming one of the roaming souls... lost in the mixture... we forget how to live, so we wander around...forever trying...convincing ourselves that this is exactly where we should be... exactly where we want to... exactly where everything is supposed to rest.
blemish
That little speck of imperfection that separates our dreams from reality...
museum
Our history helps us avoid future mistakes, but how can we attempt to understand the past, if we never allow ourselves to step beyond the "please don't touch" signs, the velvet ropes, and the polished glass?
left
right left right. never skip a beat. right left right. with steady marching feet right left right creeping through the night. take away the hatred what's left for us to fight?
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