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Rebecca 1d
A gregarious culture
connected to a stream,
an electric herding
of mediocre self esteems.

A network of fringe
for the modern conformity.
A new breed of introverts
plugging antisocial irony.
"Irony the opposite of wrinkly" - Unkown

My inspiration:'s_serious_Understanding_the_dark_side_of_social_media
Rebecca 1d
I made an appointment
with my old friend Time.
It had been a while since
I met with that companion of mine.

I wanted to express how he
was taking advantage of me.
A criminal offense to our friendship,
in the first degree.

He walked out
in the middle of our meeting
I felt ignored,
with bruised feelings.

What rude behavior!?
This is not except-able!
So I made plans
to trap Time in a bottle.

I would hold him hostage.
and he would have to listen.
My thoughts will be acknowledged.
this will be the primary condition.

I learned early on that
Time is hard to arrest
He is the master at slipping away,
at best.

But, alas, I was able to catch Time off guard.
He was trapped in my corner, and in my radar.

I demanded that he get
in my domain.
He told me that
I was insanely, insane!

He said that his frustrations were the same as mine,
that I took him for granted and paid him no mind.

I stopped using him wisely,
is what he expressed,
before he dashed off
leaving undetected.

Yes, trapping Time is inconceivable,
but I thought about what he shared.
Was I a bad friend? Was this even believable?
Could it be that I was the one impaired?

I guess I treated Time's company like a chore.
I took for granted he would always be there.
But there will be a day when Time will be no more.
It's time to treat my Time with care.
“How did it get so late so soon? It's night before
it's afternoon. December is here before it's June.
My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?
― Dr. Seuss
Rebecca 2d
Evil is a word
some say that exits.
I’m not sure I agree,
there’s much more to it.

Evil is just an ego
inflation of the self,
an addicting forced vice,
of an unbalanced parallel.

Being told that "it's wrong"
or hearing the word "No"
is a response that disagrees
with an enlarged ego.

Their ideas are always right
and will want full submission,
because they hold the knowledge
of all that is conditioned.

An example of some villans
not so long ago,
did not think they were evil
that is something you should know.

****** thought he was noble
and Stalin was a Savior,
their crimes were for the good
was the excuse for their behavior.

So ask yourself one question
put your pride on the shelf.
When you do something good,
do you do it for "the self'?

I can name some names right now,
but I will not go there.
I will on another time
when I have more time to spare.
Deep thoughts for a Monday morning.
Rebecca 2d
Love is not pretty, it's hell and it's pain,
a feeling of anguish I try to abstain.

Love is cosmic, it's beauty divine,
it makes the world sing one hymn at a time.

Love is a beast who sinks a knife in my chest,
collapsed on the floor gasping for breath.

Love is an angel who engulfs me with warmth,
my senses explode my body transformed.

Love is putrid, a smell I cannot bare,
hurling and wrenching gasping for air.

Love is a perfume so sweet and radiant,
a pomegranate honey-suckled filled fragrant.

Love is my destruction, it's also my savior.
No medium or in-between dwell in this behavior.

Love is a hormone of madness and commotion,
either a red hot elixir or an icy cold potion.
The answer (my answer anyway) to life's oldest question, "What is love?" Love is a hormone.
Rebecca 2d
Austrian princess took from her home,
stripped of everything that she ever known.

Her mother arranged "a political marriage",
sending her to France with a horse and carriage.

Off to Versailles to meet her destiny,
to take the Dauphin's hand in matrimony.

At the age of nineteen, she was crowned queen,
too young to reign, too clueless and naive.

A lonely queen by the name of Antoinette,
also referred to as Madame Deficit.

She spent money careless and haphazardly,
while the people of France were starved and hungry.

Attending masked *****, donning lavish gowns.
Flaunting her way through the Parisian crowds.

While the tax on grain became outlandish.
making the French malnourished and ravenous.

"We are dying from hunger, please help us!" they pleaded.
They felt forsaken, robbed, and cheated.

"Let them eat cake!" was the queen's supposed reply.
Perched on her throne with hair ten feet high.

The desperate French started a revolution,
holding her prisoner, creating their own constitution.

She was put on trial and the jury found her guilty.
The sentence was death, the maximum penalty.

Some say she was a victim of circumstance.
A political pawn, she never stood a chance.

Her fate was met with the guillotine,
becoming another tragic figure of history.
"Qu'ils mangent de la brioche" - Marie Antoinette (disputed quote)

“Pardonnez-moi, monsieur. Je ne l’ai pas fait exprès”
― Marie Antoinette
Rebecca 2d
I felt an anxiety attack approach,
as I was perched on my mushroom.
So I reached for my anti-foreboding dope,
with my hookah ready to consume.

As I inhaled the first hit on my fungal chair,
I felt the unease dissipate.
As a large smoke ring went into the air,
all stress seemed to disintegrate.

Lo and behold to my surprise,
I saw the white rabbit leave my domain in a panic.
What followed him I could not believe my eyes,
a girl chasing him, crazed and frantic.

I caught her attention,
as the rabbit made a liberating flee.
She stopped at the foot of my mushroom,
clueless and carefree.

The absolute nerve of this child!
halting my self-medicating fog!
She would not be ignored.
So I asked her who she was.

She told me she had no notion,
but knew who she was prior.
because she changed after sipping a potion,
causing her height to expire.

She said I would feel the same,
once I escaped my chrysalis.
When I get my wings,
my identity will fall into a proverbial precipice.

I told her not at all,
I knew this for a fact
My form will not change my conscience,
it will stay intact.

She got boiling mad at my response,
I expressed her temper was unnecessary.
I went back to smoking with an air of nonchalance,
keeping my demeanor arbitrary.

I used her for my amusement;
as she recited a poem she maimed in half.  
I smoked out her nuisance.
blowing passive-aggressive rings,
with each paragraph.

The visit was cut short
when she insulted my size.
As I walked away
I left her with some good advice.

I told her to eat a mushroom
to get back to her height.
Then I left with a bruised ego,
clutching my hookah pipe.
"Who are you?" - Smoking Caterpillar

“I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”  - Alice
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