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Mandee Patterson May 2015
No one person's personality is unique in any way.

If you've at some time been exposed to a television set, a film, a piece of music, a book, a magazine, or people in a closed environment, then you are not in any way, shape, or form an original person.


We are all just composites of the things we've come in contact with during our lives, we pick up the things we think we want, or need and apply them to ourselves, and sometimes it's a sham, and sometimes it feels real.

The only way to be original is to be put out of society the moment you're born, but even then you may take on the characteristics of the wildlife you come in contact with... so apparently you're ****** no matter what.

I suppose what makes a person unique is the way they mash up all the **** that they've been exposed to,
whether they do it in a somewhat original fashion, or if they do it in a way that is similar to those around them.

Societies fear those who do not take the path of least resistance, and those are the people we call "unique", "different", "ugly", "weird", "stupid", "genius", "freak", "amazing", "loser".

They're the attention getters, and those who seek to get attention.

The ones that take the easy road to be accepted, they're the one's outshined,
and they have to get revenge some way, why not talk ****?

I can say though, that I feel real, I don't feel like I'm putting up a front for anyone.
Most days I like who I am, most days I lie, most days I'm honest.

*Circa 2009
Julia Aubrey Mar 2015
Is it just me, or do you ever look at yourself in the mirror and pull at pieces of skin you wish weren’t there? do you claw at the marked up places, or beat the aching bones? do you ever just look at someone else, and take in their completion, wishing that you were them, facing a mirror? dozens of loose ends, and with a curvy smile, you're forced to tell yourself you're willing to wait for a confidence more valuable than any tear shed. why are we expected to work 100x harder than them? I know no one is the same, but what determines how were different? why do I always want something I don’t have, and push away everything I do? who in this world  even came up with the definition of beauty? as if life is only permissible to those who have things figured out throughly. truly that’s just unfair to make someone who’s flaws aren’t accepted, follow a path that is redirected in a circle that is infected with a never ending journey of hatred towards themselves. collecting baggage from the world that sticks like dust on the highest shelf of a book case filled with books of truth, rarely read. all they ever had to do was open one up and realize that to their surprise they are more than what they’ve been memorized with all these years. they're somethings beyond the humans eyes of beauty, and all it really took to see that was a key to a loose lock. just one knock will do. open the door, and find out more of your true self. find out the truth about the remarkable beauty you hold within.

(j.a.r.)
Rick Warr Feb 2015
sometimes I stop at you
and look
with eyes of grateful wonder
your spirit still all shiny
yet you are still here with me

yes  some things aggravate
but why should they, if unsurprising?
they shouldn't really get to me
it's  your different way of singing

well-seasoned are my campaigns
i've loved and lost a few
i come with all my baggage
to be here with you

i think that I am blessed
and live by this adage
happy with a playful angel
not being unaccompanied baggage
Written in a moment of relationship gratitude
I am a glutton for your LOVE
Not the pink pedals from a rose.
But to engulf in chills of
Feelings - risen from YOU.

I yearn to be wrapped in YOUR
affection - that is enough.
To indulge in your passion poured -
From gashes but fearlessly entrust.

I yearn for you to give me all of YOU
The you that "you" keep encaged
Is the YOU that I long to love too.
I'll take all of you, have no fear.

Just let loose your baggage -
And let me love all of it
As I live to love you and ALL
That comes with it.
Mia Marie Jul 2014
There are those who would not agree
With the thought of you and I;
The thought of our lips touching,
Of you kissing my neck as I arch my head back in laughter.
Sharing a *** of tea in midday,
Pointing out our favorite lines in the song
And realizing altogether
That we’ve only known one another’s  touch
For a short time; yet it feels like eternity.

I do not know all the secrets you hold,
The worst thing you’ve slurred while drunk,
Or how many friends abandoned you.
And you don’t know the dusty corners of my mind quite yet.
But what I do know is that
Your skin is made of galaxies,
Your eyes of stars,
Your heart of nebulas
And I can no longer imagine the night sky without you.

And even if my baggage comes with peach tea
And yours holds the ashes of cigarettes,
We won’t know  the difference 20 years down the road.
Brew me up and I’ll inhale your nicotine,
Let me steep and I’ll exhale the smoke you've held in for so long.

I’ll be your anchor and you can be my wings,
And we won’t give up easily.
We have this life and the next to figure it out,
And when the earth falls, and we plunge through darkness with it,
Nothing but our stars will remain.
I've got baggage that's too much a burden to carry, I've only got two hands, You call me weak, but it's quite the contrary. I've be strong for too long, been trying to hold on, but fingers are slipping and I keep tripping up, up where I look , crying out for some help. Don't you hear me screaming? help. My closet is full of the skeletons I wish to bury, but no shovel can dig deep enough, I'm in too much of a hurry to be free, free of this weight, free of the pain, but hey, no pain no gain, that's what I'm told. On this theory I'm sold, that time heals the wounded, but it's been years and years and I still don't see the good in it. Carry on, is what I do but I still wish that I could just break through this madness, this insanity. Looking for some clarity to see my way through this, man why do I gotta go through this, I don't know how to do this, alone. All by myself, I walk through this, aint nothing to this. But I swear, I can close my eyes and see the way it used to be before my baggage got the best of me.
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