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  Feb 2015 Harriette
rs
It was not my ear you whispered,
But it was my heart.

And it was not my lips you kissed,
It was my soul.
*~ r.s
  Feb 2015 Harriette
Pax

A tear today,
        A smile tomorrow.

I cried today,
         and tomorrow I will be okay.


© Pax
from me to you my friends & passer by: i always remember this.. this is one of my principles.. it was based on my experience.. when my mother died of breast cancer few years back i cried almost every night... then the next morning I could do my task alright not to be too emotionally withdrawn to the world around me, it keeps me focus until it made me feel better.

Just let it out, cry it out, then the next day you'll be okay. :)
  Feb 2015 Harriette
Pax
Dear reader,

Have I mastered the art of being sad, making my everyday living slumbering in dreamland fantasy?  Then my reality is in wintry weathery moments that I feel numb from too much cold. Is isolation my best buddy for the mean time? Well those questions will remain in this journal, to immortalize the moment of my depressing situation.

I brought up the transparent duct tape in placed always for people to see the lively image I pretend. Sometimes I’m tired of the choices and expectations I created. Though I never regret all of them, I just find them depressing for often times I wonder did I really make an awful choice.  Still at the back of my mind I fantasize a positive outcome of all those.

Wisdom grows as you aged, Maturity becomes you and Changes have eaten you. Now I wonder did I totally embrace reality or my life in tune with negativity. Despite all this, I will surely survive and live up to the choices I created. Someday I will surpass this in time.

            Thank you for reading…

Your friendly neighbor,
w.Pax :(
prose-poetry(prosetry) pretending to be a journal .

written: January 5, 2013
Taken from my old journals in WC.
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/willyampax/1101340/

An old piece that I can still relate to.. Sorry for not being around much, my friends. been busy for another project (from Jubail to Riyadh), and I was not able to come home, having/earning a living is hard, so I took a chance of a little more isolation. sigh.....

Happy New Year....
Harriette Feb 2015
but oh my how empty my bed feels without you,
how empty my heart feels without you,
your absence hurts more than your presence ever did
Harriette Feb 2015
I had only just finished stitching together the mess of me you
left

Only for you to come back and slowly start ripping me apart
again
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