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It's never too lonely here
with a soul which has
a thirst that even the
oceans can't quench,

with a heart that holds
secrets dark and deep
where roots of the oldest
trees too can't reach,

with twinkling eyes that
dream the biggest of dreams
which even the shiniest
stars can't match.

It's never too lonely here
while I take this journey
inward, beyond walls and
boundaries to seek myself,

there's a light inside
you and me, so radiant
and warm, take its
hand and follow it,

ask it all the questions
you've always had and
the day you realise the
answers are within you
is when you too will say -
it's never too lonely here.
Anais Vionet Jan 23
I’m going to each of my suitemates' rooms. One at a time, methodically. I pause, for dramatic purpose, until I have their full attention. Once I have it, I rushingly, excitedly, breathlessly say, “I’M getting pizza later, for the GAME!” Like a seven year old child.

Now, my roommates KNOW we're ordering pizzas later. They’re all “on board,” everyone’s submitted their order and venmo’d their money to Sunny who will actually place the order for delivery at 5:30 pm. But I’m excited. I LOVE pizza (and American, NFL football) and I love being childish.

My roommates, like my brother, sister and parents before them, know this and love my manic, overactive way of excising tedium. Besides, I won’t do this more than once or twice - ok, maybe three times today before the pizza comes.

Since you’ve read this far - allow me to opine, for a moment, about “self restraint.”

Have you read about how they’re using familial DNA to solve old cold-case murders? I think they should use familial DNA to track down whomever it was that invented self restraint.

It was probably some old Protestant. I mean, Catholics only have sin - it’s yes or no - binary. So without researching it (at all), I think we’re dealing with someone born after the protestant reformation of 1555 - but I’m flexible.

Anyway, they should track that person down, dig them up, beat them with a stick, and then rebury them, in unhallowed ground.

I hate self restraint. It’s so.. restraining.

#restraintsux
BLT word of the day challenge: opine - to expound on some subject
* I say my roommates “love” my mania but I’ve conducted no research
Anais Vionet Jan 20
We’re busy all day long with studying and chapter summaries,
we’re stuck in quarantine. Luckily, I like my roommate's company.

We know that we have work to do as prep for upcoming classes,
but we know that it takes more than work to make young lasses happy.

So I talked my roomies into getting, a steak-n-cheese delivery,
instead of working fact-sheets, for our next term chemistry.

Dueling playlists cave-rave from the echos in our suites,
we’re having all the fun we can on opening quarantine week.

Some guys try for invites, like we’re throwing a private wingding,
but those texts go unanswered ‘cause we’re genuinely quarantining.

With the COVID blues proscribed - get that frown right off your face miss,
our studies are on schedule - and it’s time for some serious play *****!
Pauline Celerio Oct 2021
I have always longed for peace like
how I have always thought of peace:
Calmness, stillness, and serenity
all at once after a raging storm.
But I have taken for granted another form
that has always been there before:
—a piece of peace in my favorite tune,
a piece of peace when I look at the moon,
a piece of peace in my covers’ warmth,
a piece of peace that gives the heart
a chance to fight again, to love again,
a piece of peace that wills me to stand up to live again.
In these trying times, these small pockets of peace in the mundane things is what wills me to not lose hope for the better.
Caelynn Regester Sep 2021
Trapped
In a box
In a cage
In a prison cell

The lonely spirit rots
Treasures given away
Puzzles night and day
The spirit cannot stand it
There must be a way out

Alas, the spirit cannot find it
And thus she withers, with her puzzles
In a box
In a cage
In a prison cell

The spirit's own vessel a prison in itself
She longs for an escape
The greed of the selfish
The hunger of the spoiled
It swallows the world,
and strengthens the lock
The spirit must stay
In a box
In a cage
In a prison cell

The cradle offers no comfort anymore
Instead only harsh reality

The only window of freedom the spirit has
Is her fellows, locked away as well
Separate cells, separate prisons
But captive all the same

Most her friends are happy with something
If nothing else, they take comfort in their own vessel
But this cannot be for the lonely spirit
Flesh is binding
She can never be free

The room's light flickers
desperate to hold onto what little she has left,
the lonely spirit sets to work

In a box
In a cage
In her own
Personal
Hell.
Matthew Sep 2021
Republicans go mask off
because they are anti mask
and all the homophobia, sexism, and racism
is spread because of
a viral video.
Get your Vaccine kids.
Salvador Kent Sep 2021
Wind. Walk outside.
You went again today.
Wood. Familiar landscape.

Blue. You're infatuated by the colour
For some reason or other.
Sad really. Sometimes blue takes over

Your mind so much you can't sleep.
Not that you sleep anyway.
Hilarious really. Two in the morning.

Why are you this way nowadays?
Did something happen? Must have
Because that would explain it all.

Funny thing. How time slipped away
Feels like March slipped to May
Slipped to now. You're staring at a pen and

There's nothing else to do.
Why are you crying now?
Did something happen?

You've been so blue recently.
You're always so blue.
Why are you always blue?
April 2020
Mose Sep 2021
How can all the cities be filled but yet the world feel so alone?


Sometimes the desolate feelings swallow me whole. The other times I'm reminded of the vapid space between me and the feelings of meaningful connections I miss. It sometimes makes you feel unlovable - a desperate cry for recognition. To be felt in a way that says, I see you clearly. Text messages unanswered lead to late night sobs trying to remember I can't be the only one missing humanity and feeling less than here. Depression creeps over in the next room to let me know I am not alone in this. Social media has a twisted way of reminding me the world still turns even though mine has stopped spinning. Some days I just want to say I am here, maybe just existing but I am here. Ready to tell you I miss you. Ready to hold your hand; any hand that reaches back out between me and spaces of my heart that feel like an oblivion. Ready to do life in a way that says I'm happy to be here, to be with you. To be in a moment that feels like I am finally once living again. To be in a space that says your presence is felt. To be loved for the sake of just loving. I once read quote that said 60% of Americans report  feelings of loneliness... For just a second I feel a slight relief in the pressure. That I am sharing something with someone for just a moment. That selfish gratefulness is all that hangs between me and nose.

I am not alone in this even though the cities are filled and once again my apartment is empty.
Marga 梅香 Oct 2020
you told me that we can try again,
amidst all these things we can't explain.
you told me we can still smile,
even if sadness is here for a while.

although we can't be physically near,
thank you for still holding me dear;
thank you for putting away my fear,
assuring me that sooner skies will be clear.
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