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022524

There’s a story not so long time ago,
And there’s this Big Bad Wolf
Hovering where he wants —
Aiming and locking his target.

His arrows do not look like scary
And most are wrapped in beauty —
In gems and in gold,
In iron and in silver.

He will eat his prey alive
But at times, he can paralyze too.
The prey doesn’t  know the schemes,
Coz he too doesn’t know he’s the prey!

The Big Bad Wolf seemed nice,
They say he’s like a sheep too.
But how foolish are the beholder of those eyes!
For he doesn’t realize even the time of his death!
022524

Everyone holds their own containers
And the Day 1 of your life
Will make your cup overflowing —
You will be so, so full of life.

But when the Time comes
And the Overseer checks what’s in your hands…
Will He be pleased that you left nothing for yourself?
Or be dismayed coz you’re still full of yourself?

How will you measure yourself?
What is your standard?
Will you pass the testing?
Will you pass the fire and be the purest gold?
Carlo C Gomez Feb 19
~
Dressed for purgatory
But early to the party
So many bodies in the house next door
A living dance upon dead minds

A grocery store sunset
Thru the windshield of an SUV
Gets you distorted colors in
Gasoline rainbows
From those precise lines
Of the turning lane
Love ends at a traffic light

We do this to ourselves
All in the pursuit of happiness

Church of questionable things
Descending like vultures
Where idols once stood
For individual suffering

A pageantry of jackals
Quiet like sirens
Picking at parts of bad contestants
Playing a game called 'poisoned trees'
Fallen soldiers in strange negotiations
With meantime brides
Riding on the train of irresponsibility
For no apparent reason

We do this to ourselves
All in the pursuit of happiness

~
Anais Vionet Feb 9
We’re (my roommates and I) at a specific time of youth - a time I’ll call “close.” We aren’t fully adults but we’re close, we’re not completely out and independent, but we’re close. And once again, we’ve got choices to make.

I read this paragraph to the room.
Lisa gasped and exclaimed “Not choices?!”
“More choices?” Anna groaned.
“I’ll have a bacon-cheeseburger with large-fries,” Sophy said, adding, “and a blueberry-triple-malt shake.”
“Freedom is choices,” Leong, our favorite communist, ungrammatically observed.

We’re in the second half of our junior year - which is still hard to believe. We’ll be seniors soon, and seniors have one foot out the door - they’re ‘over the ****’ academically - nothing will be thrown at them that they can’t casually handle, so they sleep-in or trek off to job interviews half the time or in my case, go med-school hunting.

I’ve written about our lives - the stresses, healthy doses of narrative-suffused teen drama, the ascetic beauties and the enchantments of freedom - trying to capture a few real-life moments at irregular intervals, in small ellipses, to tack them, like butterflies on cork.

What’s been hard to capture are the subtler shifts in taste and mood as we’ve aged. I’ve had to purposefully slow down, doppler shift from frantic student to observant writer, to even try and grasp the constantly evolving, small variations. Like Anna’s cainogenetic expressiveness, Leong's imponderable politics, Sophy’s evolving, coquettish bar-side poses and the growing assertiveness of Lisa’s gaze.

As we mentally prepare for our real lives, there are diffuse metamorphic changes afoot. What will we leave behind and what will we keep in order to “grow up?” I don’t mean changes in haircuts, clothes and make-up - although I’m sure I’ll MCU-those-out - I mean the psychological changes.

Throughout our college careers, the objects we’ve surrounded ourselves with, the settings we’ve chosen to inhabit, the faces we’ve shown the world, and even our intimate notions of ourselves have changed.

And It’s still only junior year, I can’t wait to see what comes next.
slang…
*cainogenetic: adaptations in development that aren’t found in evolutionary ancestors
MCU-out = the nauseating oversaturation of something, like the Marvel-movie-verse.

Adults don’t always grasp (remember?) the thousands of small but concrete choices governing the life of, say, a middle-school adolescent. The zig-zags that appear puzzling or random from afar, stem from questions like, ‘What does my belt say about my sexuality or my relationship to oppressed people in poverty?”
Renae Dec 2023
Fine print signatures hardly exist when
little white lines guide your mind
Trusted friends,  kin,
I believed when they said I'd win
Surely this won't take me
I claim invincibility
Laugh louder outside
Inside I am screaming
Save me
I am imploding
She is empty what happened to us
What happened to me
I am in disbelief
I chose this ending
Noa Adler Oct 2023
Two roads,
Both of suffering,
A travel of torment,
An alcoholic buffering,
A mental health descent.

Two roads,
Both amnesiac,
Disasters once foretold,
A twisted aphrodisiac,
A trauma to remold.

Two roads,
And no yellow wood,
The lines are blurred and gray,
And no choice is ever good,
With the forces at play.

Two roads,
And a traveler,
With sanity at stake,
The wrong choice could unravel her,
A choice she's yet to make.
*referencing "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost
nick armbrister Aug 2023
What If?
Brian never thought he would work in a call centre
When he lived in Germany he was unemployed
And while looking for a job he was forced to go
Work in a call centre and refused creating a fuss
I’m not selling insurance or loft insulation!
Put me on fork lift truck training it’s my job
Not some **** call centre 2 towns away

The stupid ***** running the training place
Offered to buy Brian a bicycle and he laughed!
You silly ******* cow retrain me on fork lifts
I need to renew my outdated licence
Not work taking calls like a fool robot
Half a decade passed and Brian
Ate his words working in a call centre!
Don't worry about the words people say,
Not at the end of the day,
nor,
at the end of this lifetime,

All that they say, let them,
ignore them, and continue
to be who you are, no matter
what they choose to believe,

Realize, if it's at the end of a day
or
rather if it's at the end of this life,
They're not anyone
or
anything that will judge you,

They'll be judged too.
So many judgemental people. People choose what they believe, they are so deceived. Sometimes people are just fill of pride so they continue the charade instead of making an admission that their wrong. Some people go to extremes to spread untruths about who you really are. Try not to worry about either way. They'd rather believe what they believe about you but trying to prove yourself to them over and over again will not change their minds. We all will have the same judge.
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