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Zelda Nov 2016
My Important Things

Come away with me
we’ll go down to new Orleans
Get on the bus with me
And we’ll spend the time
In comfortable silence
Separated from the distance

I'm out of my mind
because I can't help but wonder
when you became one of the important things
You’re my everything
My important thing

Now I’m asking
Can we repeat the years over and over?
Give me one more year if just for a minute
Give me over and over
Give me the small moments
I'll cherish them over and over

You don't even know, you don’t even know
And I can't explain, I can’t explain
The difference you make
Each day I'm waking up to "Good Morning"
And every night I'm going to bed
With the promise of over and over

I’m having a heart attack
I'm out of my mind
because I can't help but wonder
when you became one of the important things
You’re my everything
My important thing

And I’ve never laughed so hard
I think I might die
You’re my laughing gas
Because my chest never felt so light
Is this an illusion; A siren’s hallucination
I'm reliving these moments
Over and over
And I won't, oh I won't share

I must be playing a fools game
Because I’m so attached
Being honest, So open
Showing you the broken pieces
Hoping we never drift apart
Separated by distance again

Though I am prepared
For when you disappear...
disappear from my world
And become a stranger again

I can see it now
I'll be calling your name
Over and over
I'll be falling apart
over and over
I'll be missing you
over and over

So, I don’t want forever
And I don’t need you to give me everything

Because you, you’ll never know  
I'm out of my mind (I’m losing my mind)
Because I can't help but wonder
When you became one of the important things
You’re my everything
My important thing

You’ll be my important thing
Over and Over
For my friends
Arlene Corwin Oct 2016
Catch That Thought
  
Catch that thought.  It closes down.
Paul Tillich once said to my friend,
There are those thoughts that never come again.
I don’t agree.  Not wholly, but
Within the moment that flies by,
It vaporizes.  I,
A Pooh of Little Brain,
Not very focused  
Need to trap the moment
Or it’s gone, and I must wait
Until some friendly fate
Brings back the catalyst
That brought
The then-what-felt
World shaking thought
And write it down
Perhaps to get it out
Into a world I think about
Spontaneously.

Catch That Thought 10.12.2016
The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;
Arlene Corwin
Abs Sep 2016
I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, “Kiss me harder,” and “You’re a good person,” and, “You brighten my day.” I live my life as straight-forward as possible.

Because one day, I might get hit by a bus.

I could be walking down the street one day, blasting Rihanna or Fleetwood Mac, jamming so hard that I don’t see the bus coming. I could be walking with a book in my hand, reading until the very end. I could be paying total and complete attention, imagine the impact before it arrives.

And I’d really, really rather not die with some confusing statement I said sitting in the phone or the thoughts or the memory of someone I know, care about, need.

I know how it is—we all want to be mysterious. None of us want to get hurt. None of us want to look desperate. So we wait to respond to texts, phone calls, emails, Facebook messages, Tweets. So we communicate our emotions in how we end our messages (no period this time? Really gonna get them.). So we say vague, half-statements and expect people to read our minds.

But what if we died?

What if the last thing you ever texted that girl was, “I don’t know, whenever,” when she asked when she should come over, even though you really really wanted to see her right now? What if you were head-over-heels in lust with some beautiful human in your Lit. class but you chose to wait 15 seconds before texting them back, only to never get the chance to text them at all?

Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands.

But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate.

And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care.

We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans.

We never know when the bus is coming.

(So go text them back.)

-Rachel C. Lewis
I love this passage quite a lot. Most people are afraid of the unexpected and the possibility of rejection reoccurring over and over again. I wanted to share this on my account, feeling as if it was worthy of everyone's reading attention. I hope you are able to take away as much as I did the first time, and quite frankly every time I still read this.
Complete credits to Rachel C. Lewis.
Phia Jul 2016
You say that you are insignificant.
When compared to the whole
Of the world,
And the universe.
You say you don't matter.
But darling,
To me, you are my world.
You are my universe.
Alaska Jul 2016
And there will be a time
When I'll only be a faded picture in your head

But you'll still be the starring role
In the drama
Alias my life

And there will be a time
When you won't remember me anymore
When you won't know how I look
Or how my voice sounds

But I'll still remember
Every word and every sentence you said
And hopefully
I'll still remember the beautiful sound of your voice
And the shininess in your eyes
Alaska Jul 2016
i hope that you'll never leave
because i'm scared
to be alone with me
i know that's not how it's gonna be
but that's what happens in my dreams

i know you're only doing
what you have to do
but i'm still hoping
that sometimes you
will think of me

i know i'm only one in hundred
but you for me
are nothing i take for granted
i'm proud to be
a part of your life
and i still hope for the day
you'll recognize
it's not like i say
i need you here with me
CastorPolydeuces Jul 2016
I have this vague vision of tangerines bleeding
into blue green skies.
Or maybe cat puke melding with the emerald
carpet beneath my feet.
Some sort of merging, colors, textures, clear and
pristine but elusive.
I have no idea what I'm going on about but I
know it is important.
College has broken me.
Alan S Bailey Jul 2016
I am like an onion with no center,
It seems you can take off as many layers
As you like, but shall never find a center,
None you can ever find. I'm so high in trends,
All you need to do is call out my name on a
City street and I'm insulted that it was you
And not one of my "more important" friends,
Whilst if I seem interested in calling upon all
Of your secrets and probing into your life,
I am as by all rights granted such permission
Upon having a car, richer, and have a husband/wife.
I am the "real me," on all fronts "special and great,"
Although I've never apologized for being foolish, wrong, or late.
Here the thunder as the storm clouds gather,
Then see the brightness as the light flashes,
From its inner womb,
That gives it the greatest visual detail,
Which soars up in its different shades,
As it columns upward to the Infinite Heavens.

Feel as the wind gusts and blows a damp cool air across your face,
And also through your fingertips,
As you stretch your arms out and twirl around,
And like a sponge… you soak it all in.

Smell the freshness of the air,
That the storm has brought as it had passed,
Feel the dampness of the tree bark,
As your hand slides down the rough and smooth sides of that tree,
Smell the moss and grass that fragrance the air,
With their water-bathed fresh scent.

Hear the water dripping off the leaves,
As the droplets merge together,
Then slide towards the tips and edges of each leaf,
Then fall onto the soil and vegetation filled ground.

Hear the birds sing,
The fogs croak,
The bees hum,
And so much more,
Following the passing of the storm,
And the dawning of a new day.

Remember the feelings you feel as you do so,
The emotions you express,
The experience you had as it all took place,
Then remember these words…

The gathering of the storm, was like the gathering of the feelings that stressed upon my heart, year after year, building a vast volume of dammed feelings and burst emotions… as it filled the reservoir of my heart. The day I told you how I felt, was similar to when the storm had passed, the pressure was off, regardless of what would come next, and all I could feel was the Awesomeness of the experience… the Relief of the moment, and the deep impact you made upon me. After it was all over, and I spilled out my heart to you, I sensed the change in me, like the change in nature after the storm… it was like a breath of fresh air, when you smell the scent of rebirth.
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