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jack-s
21/M
I don't know how many plane rides I've been on. It's been a lot. I've been on planes my whole life, and I flew by myself for the first time when I was 9 years old. So, being on a plane, and 30,000 feet in the air, certainly isn't anything new to me. Still, everytime I'm on a plane I try to take a window seat and spend the rare minutes between my little naps obsessively snapping pictures of the sun, sky, and earth. There is a beauty about being on the edge of something. Off the ground. In the sky. Scratching the beyond. It's only by taking a step back that allows us to see a clearer picture. What I see from a plane is far from the complete image, but it's a reminder that our planet is big and beautiful. It has so many peaks and valleys that no person could ever possibly cover them all. This scale may spark fears of our own significance, or wonder at it's grandeur. To me, it says: "Look at me. Look at my grandeur, my grace. Look at all the folds and wrinkles of my skin. Look at my tears as they flow to the sea. Look at the clouds that clothe me, and bring life to every living thing. Look at it all. Be in awe. I am so much bigger than you can begin to imagine. I will always have more to show you. And beyond me, lies a whole universe whose grandeur even I cannot comprehend. So worry not little one. You are not the world. No planets or moons revolve around you. No solar system depends on your gravitational pull. You are not the world, but you are in it. You are one of many lives that has crossed my surface, and as such you have changed me. You walked my shores and my mountaintops. My valleys and my plains. And I learned what it meant to be loved. This is why you are here. Your skill is not making the mountains or carving the valleys. You are here to love and be loved. And in doing so, I am forever different."
0
Jul 31, 2022
Jul 31, 2022 at 1:12 PM UTC
You Are Not the World
I don't know how many plane rides I've been on. It's been a lot. I've been on planes my whole life, and I flew by myself for the first time when I was 9 years old. So, being on a plane, and 30,000 feet in the air, certainly isn't anything new to me. Still, everytime I'm on a plane I try to take a window seat and spend the rare minutes between my little naps obsessively snapping pictures of the sun, sky, and earth. There is a beauty about being on the edge of something. Off the ground. In the sky. Scratching the beyond. It's only by taking a step back that allows us to see a clearer picture. What I see from a plane is far from the complete image, but it's a reminder that our planet is big and beautiful. It has so many peaks and valleys that no person could ever possibly cover them all. This scale may spark fears of our own significance, or wonder at it's grandeur. To me, it says: "Look at me. Look at my grandeur, my grace. Look at all the folds and wrinkles of my skin. Look at my tears as they flow to the sea. Look at the clouds that clothe me, and bring life to every living thing. Look at it all. Be in awe. I am so much bigger than you can begin to imagine. I will always have more to show you. And beyond me, lies a whole universe whose grandeur even I cannot comprehend. So worry not little one. You are not the world. No planets or moons revolve around you. No solar system depends on your gravitational pull. You are not the world, but you are in it. You are one of many lives that has crossed my surface, and as such you have changed me. You walked my shores and my mountaintops. My valleys and my plains. And I learned what it meant to be loved. This is why you are here. Your skill is not making the mountains or carving the valleys. You are here to love and be loved. And in doing so, I am forever different."
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34
The earth has lines in it Cut by divine cartographers That point me to you And you to me Unholy magnetism As we orbit Chasing one another Endlessly A cloud creates a shelf And you dangle your toes Fishing in the endless sea of soil As spiderwebs sink to its surface And the snake slithers on High above the mountains The wind blows west And the water washes away The salt from all my tears You’re calling to me From somewhere Far, far away Across the ocean Or under the sea Your voice ripples out And the rain begins to fall Soaking through the drought-worn earth Through the roots Through the clay Through the rock Divine Destruction The earth crumbles And falls away And the little lines on its surface Descend into darkness Only you and I remain Floating in ethereal mist Surveyors of its undoing No more lines No more clouds No more magnetism No more dirt We are the last things left And will be Until the sun sets And we are lost among the stars
0
Apr 16, 2022
Apr 16, 2022 at 9:37 PM UTC
The Earth has lines in it
There are places where the earth sits like a sheet draped over humongous bodies
0
Feb 29, 2020
Feb 29, 2020 at 9:14 PM UTC
California
Did I ever even hug you? Did I ever even touch you? What did I do when I was happy to see you? Were we as close as I thought we had been? Or further apart? Was I there for you back when we were friends? I know we don’t talk all that much. I know we have our different lives. But you keep me up at night with these crazy thoughts. And if we had lived different lives. What if you hadn’t left? What if I hadn’t stayed? Would things have been the same, if we hadn’t gone our separate ways? Or would I still be at film school living a separate life? And you a thousand miles away? But I think you’ll keep me up at night For as long as I will live And should our paths come back together Just one answer would you give?
0
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 11:03 AM UTC
Like We Used To Be
Let's pretend we are not in love And go on walking So I can fall for you All over again
0
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 8:38 AM UTC
Let's pretend for a while
Bowwowwow the horn rumbles out Skreereeree it cries I resound it and without a doubt See cheer in my friends' eyes Skeeweet I pitchedly yell Oooooooooh it responds And still I can seem to tell That no one does yet yawn But some soon grow annoyed With my wonderful new fun They no longer like my toy and soon they say "be done" But on I go my cheery song I happily do play Weeeweeeweee I play along Reewoowchick I say
0
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 10:09 AM UTC
Didgeridoo
My eyelids start to droop The nicotine wearing off And all i'm left with a a swaying feeling Like i'm on the boat A small boat The small waves Trickle Over The Edge And splash around my feet I slip forwards Into you and then i crash Hard Into sleep Into you Into death I crash Again And Again And Again And soon my eyelids crust over with the little goobers that i wipe from them every morning Waiting for you to wipe it away Until then i'll collect dust
0
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 3:08 AM UTC
Crust
Hey it’s been a while Yeah i know How’ve you been Im alright. Actually I’m not Whats wrong? I think I’m sad What do you mean you think you’re sad? You’re either sad or not sad Its not that easy Whats not that easy? I dont know... I think I’m just lonely I hate being alone Well you’re not alone. Right? I mean you have me at lest Yeah but its different Hows it different? Idk its weird Trust me I already think you’re weird. Tell me I don’t know. I want so badly to be loved or someone to love but everytime i get the chance i ruin it I’m my own worst enemy What do you mean? I love you. So does your mom And your dad Plenty of people love you Yeah but its different How? I want someone that I can hold. Someone thats always there Happy and sad Thick and thin Someone that I can just hug and it won’t be this weird semi-romantic/semi-friendly hug because its already clear that they’re the person I want to spend the rest of my life with Dude you’re 17 You’ll get that someday For now you just gotta wait and make the most of each moment Have fun with your friends Maybe have a few flings and just relax But I want that now I’m so ready to be in love Don’t worry it’ll come eventually I know But it just ***** living right now I’m so lonely
0
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
Lonely
How come one can pass through a day believing that he has at least seen and achieved mediocre happiness to arrive home and realize his sadness? A sadness of sorts. Not really sad. More lonely Though he is self-driven (something his parents and piano teacher are quite proud of) And yet? Yet he cannot find fulfillment. He brinks on the edge of smart individual to scaling the wall of genius He attempts all things at his disposal and excels to the top of his pond only to look over the edge and see the vast ocean of bigger and better fish His self-motivation pushes him to yearn for the ocean, the means for his fruition Even if he was to reach the ocean, gain some weight and eventually become the biggest fish of his kind his satisfaction would not be present No The self-motivational man is plagued by eternal shortcomings in the fields of self-satisfaction and self-love He holds no value for the compliments and praises that he receives from his loving parents The love displayed toward him do not present an argument valid enough to convince his deductive mind that he is worthy of self-love His scars become trophies and his trophies a pile of garbage. His greatest sadness is that he sees a way to fulfillment Just before him He could reach-out-and-touch-it should he try He wants nothing more than to stretch his hand forward and accept the path to love: the path to happiness: the path to satisfaction And yet? He cannot bring himself to grab it. He reaches his hand forward again and again. The ethereal means within his grasp. And yet he cannot take hold. He cannot hold it because this power before him is greater than him Everything he has done so far has been done by him and now he must sit back and receive the ethereal grace? He must surrender He must not be driven by himself but instead a higher power and although he recognizes the authority of the higher power he does not submit to it He yearns to be in its presence And yet? He cannot surrender for to surrender to it is to deny everything he has ever known. To accept its grace he must be made new He must be born again Until he surrenders entirely (most likely in a long time for the self-driven man is stubborn) he shall experience the lonely dissatisfaction which already plagues him Until he surrenders entirely his happiness will only be mediocre and fleeting Disappearing as he walks through his front door and even more intense during the minutes of isolation that he showers each night And so he passes through life master of nothing, poisoned, for he cannot deny who he is to accept an antidote which he knows is supreme.
0
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC
And Yet?
How come one can pass through a day believing that he has at least seen and achieved mediocre happiness to arrive home and realize his sadness? A sadness of sorts. Not really sad. More lonely Though he is self-driven (something his parents and piano teacher are quite proud of) And yet? Yet he cannot find fulfillment. He brinks on the edge of smart individual to scaling the wall of genius He attempts all things at his disposal and excels to the top of his pond only to look over the edge and see the vast ocean of bigger and better fish His self-motivation pushes him to yearn for the ocean, the means for his fruition Even if he was to reach the ocean, gain some weight and eventually become the biggest fish of his kind his satisfaction would not be present No The self-motivational man is plagued by eternal shortcomings in the fields of self-satisfaction and self-love He holds no value for the compliments and praises that he receives from his loving parents The love displayed toward him do not present an argument valid enough to convince his deductive mind that he is worthy of self-love His scars become trophies and his trophies a pile of garbage. His greatest sadness is that he sees a way to fulfillment Just before him He could reach-out-and-touch-it should he try He wants nothing more than to stretch his hand forward and accept the path to love: the path to happiness: the path to satisfaction And yet? He cannot bring himself to grab it. He reaches his hand forward again and again. The ethereal means within his grasp. And yet he cannot take hold. He cannot hold it because this power before him is greater than him Everything he has done so far has been done by him and now he must sit back and receive the ethereal grace? He must surrender He must not be driven by himself but instead a higher power and although he recognizes the authority of the higher power he does not submit to it He yearns to be in its presence And yet? He cannot surrender for to surrender to it is to deny everything he has ever known. To accept its grace he must be made new He must be born again Until he surrenders entirely (most likely in a long time for the self-driven man is stubborn) he shall experience the lonely dissatisfaction which already plagues him Until he surrenders entirely his happiness will only be mediocre and fleeting Disappearing as he walks through his front door and even more intense during the minutes of isolation that he showers each night And so he passes through life master of nothing, poisoned, for he cannot deny who he is to accept an antidote which he knows is supreme.
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34
Blackred blood creeps through my veins Drawn by the blackred rose it crawls down my hand my back hardened with work no longer feels the weight nor the path which slithers down my spine
0
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 9:24 PM UTC
Blackred