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#attachments
Certificates that can be for hourly rates oh wait certificates can they be earned whilst being late Allah that gives what is on the plate
0
3d ago
May 31, 2026 at 7:57 AM UTC
Ar Razzaq (Allah's 99 names)
Attachments = Self- detachments. Attachments feel warm at first, but they quietly detach us from ourselves. In every bond lives the lesson of letting go.
0
Oct 11, 2025
Oct 11, 2025 at 8:12 AM UTC
The Paradox of Attachment
Strong as the chain of my DNA on the inside weak as a single strand on the outside I won the race for life in the first place still I need your shoulder to be sure I'll give you mine anytime even now feeling I may have drawn the shortest straw strands ain't strings and yours could be wrong.
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Dec 28, 2021
Dec 28, 2021 at 2:23 PM UTC
Attachments
..a cutting edge I drown in it Cause to see this gem Then feel this slight Is hard to right.
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Nov 15, 2020
Nov 15, 2020 at 2:07 PM UTC
Just like this,..
Two strings Pulled together Stretched apart No attachments No obligations Just free But what happens when One string starts to get Attached?
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Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 8:05 AM UTC
Attached
Summer is coming soon to an end. A bittersweet summer. One that has aged me to wise. Solemnly, I stand welcoming and allowing. Loosened grips, blood returns to white knuckles. Numbed fear, but wild excitement.
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Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 7:53 PM UTC
Growing up, and letting go.
Observer of the Universe you call yourself Because you see the moon and the stars And you imagine the galaxies far beyond Just a reminder Wherever you may be reading this In a coffee shop, in a bookstore, or under the covers We are both wrapped around with blankets of water and mountains We share the stars & the moon The sun & the earth And with that being said We are closer than you'd ever observe - Henessy J. Beltre
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Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 11:26 PM UTC
Universe
_“I dont know”_ was my response when you asked me if I still love you the world stopped for the both of us as I wondered on the thought of me, being selfish or being true and yours upon the realization that _maybe, just maybe_ my love for you is fleeting neither of us was speaking and the silence echoed through the depths of my head and you uttered _‘oh’_ that moment, I knew that you gave up on me, and my inner indecisiveness I crumbled upon the guilt of telling you those words, so instead I let my tongue do the talking and said _'maybe'_ cause it was never hard to say but it is always hard to face the reality of being responsible to someone as if I have to breathe through somebody’s pair of lungs and scratch the loneliness with someone else’s fingers we parted I changed numbers cause I had to stay afloat on the clouds of solitude free from attachments.
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Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
Ghosting
silence will be best for me, no attachments, no atonements, no enchantments, no blandishments, no chastisements. and that is all!
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Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 1:23 PM UTC
No
these barriers offer isolation these boundaries provide protection these walls put everything in chain because attachments often lead to pain
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Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 3:21 AM UTC
WALKING WITH WALLS
i don't think you can unlearn somethings like how to build walls around your heart so that no sword will find a way through it again like how to choose meaningless people to obsess over because you know if they hurt you the blow won't come as hard and there you are with your patience and kindness slowly coalescing your presence into my life slowly getting me attached to your presence i don't think you realize how special you are becoming to me
0
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 8:20 AM UTC
c o a l e s c e
I saw myself sitting on my knees, hunched over, clinging to a pile of rugs beneath me. Precisely three. Each rug was much like the other; slightly different in shape, but all of the same tone and texture. 
 One by one, each was pulled away from underneath me…
 My dad came and stole the first rug. I hardly expected it to have been snatched away. In my innocence, I thought I could somehow seek comfort there. Somehow I thought, I could feel it’s warmth for the remainder of my life not knowing much of the past, nor the future. With its displacement soon arose great fear. My mind started to alarmingly ring. What if all my other rugs are taken too? What if I have nothing soft left to lie on anymore? And what if all I feel is the bare emptiness of the ground below me? An emptiness, in which I am nothing? Inherently nothing…? I clung to each rug that followed in dire fear of unanswered questions. In dire fear of all unknown. 
 A few years thereafter, another rug I had grasped was snatched from underneath my base by T–. He did so in such an insidious way, I hardly expected it to have happened either. He had such invisibly cold hands that he told me were warm – a series of lies masquerading as truth. When T—’s rug went missing, I fell in much the same way as when my first rug was taken. Except this time, I fell to a position I had already felt so keenly, and so now, fell much more intensely. Doubly hunched over and in pain. A feeling of dejection and despair so intense from having already carried a previous stain; a previous memory. 
 The next rug I encountered, I thought to be real. Actually, I thought it to be the most genuine I had ever encountered in the universe. It had seemingly inexhaustible warmth. I could hardly help but cling in ecstasy, though also in hidden agony, in cognizance of how transient all my other rugs had been. Finally, perhaps I had a home for me to lay my head upon? A home which would grant me stable rest? But here too, I was mistaken. Like each rug that came before, this rug was indeed transitory and full of uncertainty. Perhaps more soft, perhaps more real, perhaps more warm and embracing – but he too had to go. After all, he was another rug I had clung to; an attachment like all the rest. – When this particular rug was pulled, I was so terrified of soon touching the ground below me, that my body contracted in a frenzied, desperate agony. I tried so hard to make whatever warmth remain; strenuously clenching with all my might to staple it down in place. However, as hard as I did pull to hang on, an unknown force pulled away at a greater intensity. I found myself in a tug of war I could not win and sooner or later, the weight of my frustrations gave in. Mournfully, I failed to control its inevitable movement. My last remaining rug, yes, he too, went away. And so I had nothing left beneath me… 
 The cold floor exposed bare was the hard reality with which existence presented me. In the past, I had tried to search for other rugs to hide in. I thought to myself that other rugs would do, that perhaps I just needed a different few. I clung to some alternate variations; some made of others’ skin; half-hearted relations or validations, some of money, others of drugs or work or pastimes and pleasure. Despite all my attempts however, I could not evade the emptiness of the floor beneath me. I had felt it repeatedly with my own body. Its coldness had visibly scraped and scarred me. And I knew; each rug I had clung to was a cover-up so transient. Despite their initial warmth; each stood porous now – exposing the cold, and digging holes in any of my attempts not to feel what lied beneath. Upon these realisations, the floor which held me and my previous rugs soon started collapsing. With its fall, I was taken into an empty, dark abyss; seemingly endless and all-enclosing. Seemingly perpetual. Mid-fall I was so catastrophically uncertain, I wanted to close my eyes and no longer wake. I berated myself for continuing to be conscious and pleaded for existence to **** me in my sleep. How dare I still be alive while falling in such suffering and sadness, I lamented. 
I lacked the courage to feel the thud of my final landing and its location. From past experience, I was almost certain that what lied beneath was infinite pain; dark abandonment of course, for miles without end.
 – To be continued (as I learn how)…
0
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 1:07 PM UTC
I had a vision on the train once...
I saw myself sitting on my knees, hunched over, clinging to a pile of rugs beneath me. Precisely three. Each rug was much like the other; slightly different in shape, but all of the same tone and texture. 
 One by one, each was pulled away from underneath me…
 My dad came and stole the first rug. I hardly expected it to have been snatched away. In my innocence, I thought I could somehow seek comfort there. Somehow I thought, I could feel it’s warmth for the remainder of my life not knowing much of the past, nor the future. With its displacement soon arose great fear. My mind started to alarmingly ring. What if all my other rugs are taken too? What if I have nothing soft left to lie on anymore? And what if all I feel is the bare emptiness of the ground below me? An emptiness, in which I am nothing? Inherently nothing…? I clung to each rug that followed in dire fear of unanswered questions. In dire fear of all unknown. 
 A few years thereafter, another rug I had grasped was snatched from underneath my base by T–. He did so in such an insidious way, I hardly expected it to have happened either. He had such invisibly cold hands that he told me were warm – a series of lies masquerading as truth. When T—’s rug went missing, I fell in much the same way as when my first rug was taken. Except this time, I fell to a position I had already felt so keenly, and so now, fell much more intensely. Doubly hunched over and in pain. A feeling of dejection and despair so intense from having already carried a previous stain; a previous memory. 
 The next rug I encountered, I thought to be real. Actually, I thought it to be the most genuine I had ever encountered in the universe. It had seemingly inexhaustible warmth. I could hardly help but cling in ecstasy, though also in hidden agony, in cognizance of how transient all my other rugs had been. Finally, perhaps I had a home for me to lay my head upon? A home which would grant me stable rest? But here too, I was mistaken. Like each rug that came before, this rug was indeed transitory and full of uncertainty. Perhaps more soft, perhaps more real, perhaps more warm and embracing – but he too had to go. After all, he was another rug I had clung to; an attachment like all the rest. – When this particular rug was pulled, I was so terrified of soon touching the ground below me, that my body contracted in a frenzied, desperate agony. I tried so hard to make whatever warmth remain; strenuously clenching with all my might to staple it down in place. However, as hard as I did pull to hang on, an unknown force pulled away at a greater intensity. I found myself in a tug of war I could not win and sooner or later, the weight of my frustrations gave in. Mournfully, I failed to control its inevitable movement. My last remaining rug, yes, he too, went away. And so I had nothing left beneath me… 
 The cold floor exposed bare was the hard reality with which existence presented me. In the past, I had tried to search for other rugs to hide in. I thought to myself that other rugs would do, that perhaps I just needed a different few. I clung to some alternate variations; some made of others’ skin; half-hearted relations or validations, some of money, others of drugs or work or pastimes and pleasure. Despite all my attempts however, I could not evade the emptiness of the floor beneath me. I had felt it repeatedly with my own body. Its coldness had visibly scraped and scarred me. And I knew; each rug I had clung to was a cover-up so transient. Despite their initial warmth; each stood porous now – exposing the cold, and digging holes in any of my attempts not to feel what lied beneath. Upon these realisations, the floor which held me and my previous rugs soon started collapsing. With its fall, I was taken into an empty, dark abyss; seemingly endless and all-enclosing. Seemingly perpetual. Mid-fall I was so catastrophically uncertain, I wanted to close my eyes and no longer wake. I berated myself for continuing to be conscious and pleaded for existence to **** me in my sleep. How dare I still be alive while falling in such suffering and sadness, I lamented. 
I lacked the courage to feel the thud of my final landing and its location. From past experience, I was almost certain that what lied beneath was infinite pain; dark abandonment of course, for miles without end.
 – To be continued (as I learn how)…
Continue reading...
16
I have found some weird things in my time, I went to a footy dinner along the line, The young lads were flicking peas, And all their vegetables, if you please, When home, my hair was full of carrots and peas, Never went to footy dinners again, you see, We do learn from experience, dodge them peas! "Boys will be boys!" I ponder so wisely......
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May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 1:44 AM UTC
WEIRD THINGS!
The aroma that the breeze gave , The soil that then sailed , “Me” was not found any where , Found and lost was the game played . & that is what I then prayed , for you to be with me some where ..!
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Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 7:46 AM UTC
Lost..!
I am but a guest inside this vessel, staying for as long as the breath of life permits. Often I n I come to these windows to view just how beautiful this life truly is. Former extrovert turned introvert, these days I sit in solitude listening to echoes of recitations of poems in my head. The resounding sound of melodic music notes keeps the calm within the beat of my heart, pushing me further from attachments and pulling me  deeper into the dark. Reminding me that I am nothing, yet I am everything.
0
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 10:27 PM UTC
Divine Paradox
I stare at my laptop screen waiting for ideas to form in my head Emotions are coming but my words can’t be contained Hatred, disgust, betrayal swirled like the storm My heart and my brain needs some reform One question was stuck in my mind, Why do they make you feel important but still leave you behind? I asked myself “Was being with me just a game?” Why do people find it hard to remain? I have the right to ask specially when I’ve given them parts of me Parts that I shared though I know I will need them eventually Gave them shards of my heart though it was broken, My encouragements, my kind words were my love’s token. You know, these heartbreaks may come anywhere, everywhere- Your mom, your dad, your aunt, your pet, your best friend They could all leave you in the middle of nowhere The sad thing is, even in their minds, you could find yourself dead. To prevent this, follow my one and only rule. Don’t get attached Don’t tie the string if they’re going to loosen it up and leave. Don’t build bridges to reach them when they haven't done anything to be with you. Don’t get attached for in the end they would all leave you You're going to be alone with your thoughts and feelings Feelings that seem so strong but no one cared for You'll just pity yourself like never before.
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May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 9:23 AM UTC
Rule # 1
doesn't forever seem so much better in a dream with no tether?
0
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 11:17 PM UTC
Stuck
palms sweating. heart palpitating. mind infused with nothing but the thought of you. overwhelmed with nervousness, i approached you. we talked and with every word you uttered, my infatuation with you grew. with the way you think, and how your thoughts form in that beautiful mind of yours. with the way you talk. with your eyes, the ones i can never stop looking into. i'm in awe of your beauty, not a word in all languages can begin to describe how beautiful you are and no art can measure up to your glory. a writer can try and put you in words, but he can't sum up all that you're. you're not your flesh nor your bones, you're way more than just your parts. it's everything else that makes you, everything else that leaves me at loss of words. you're fascinating,  i want to get to know the deepest parts of your being and what keeps you up at night. i want you to make me understand every aspect of who you are, and i promise you that no matter how much you reveal of yourself i'll not love you any less. in fact, my feelings for you will only ever nurture. i have never yet felt such admiration to one being, but what's not to admire? oh god, your smile gives me a kind of high no drug can ever give. and the sound of your laugh is something i'd never want to stop listening to. and your voice is the best form of addiction. i, at times, do think you're too good for me. i see in you all that i ever strived to be, and i do know you're not perfect and i do know you're flawed but how can one sin so beautifully? i am not in love with you, yet. but the only one i've truly felt this deep emotion to is you. before you, all i knew of love is that it hurt. it leaves you broken, shreds and pieces of you splattered around with no one to stitch them up, with no one trying to piece you back together. but when i saw you, i saw hope. i saw a happy ending and a life worth living and that says a lot, death was always the answer for everything to me. my one longed for wish, why aren't you mine yet?
0
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
crush//maybe just more.
palms sweating. heart palpitating. mind infused with nothing but the thought of you. overwhelmed with nervousness, i approached you. we talked and with every word you uttered, my infatuation with you grew. with the way you think, and how your thoughts form in that beautiful mind of yours. with the way you talk. with your eyes, the ones i can never stop looking into. i'm in awe of your beauty, not a word in all languages can begin to describe how beautiful you are and no art can measure up to your glory. a writer can try and put you in words, but he can't sum up all that you're. you're not your flesh nor your bones, you're way more than just your parts. it's everything else that makes you, everything else that leaves me at loss of words. you're fascinating,  i want to get to know the deepest parts of your being and what keeps you up at night. i want you to make me understand every aspect of who you are, and i promise you that no matter how much you reveal of yourself i'll not love you any less. in fact, my feelings for you will only ever nurture. i have never yet felt such admiration to one being, but what's not to admire? oh god, your smile gives me a kind of high no drug can ever give. and the sound of your laugh is something i'd never want to stop listening to. and your voice is the best form of addiction. i, at times, do think you're too good for me. i see in you all that i ever strived to be, and i do know you're not perfect and i do know you're flawed but how can one sin so beautifully? i am not in love with you, yet. but the only one i've truly felt this deep emotion to is you. before you, all i knew of love is that it hurt. it leaves you broken, shreds and pieces of you splattered around with no one to stitch them up, with no one trying to piece you back together. but when i saw you, i saw hope. i saw a happy ending and a life worth living and that says a lot, death was always the answer for everything to me. my one longed for wish, why aren't you mine yet?
Continue reading...
3
My emotions have spilled In the form of paint Onto masterpieces of old Plastered on my face Is a smile that hides All negativity inside I isolate myself Far from attachments I fall for art instead
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
art
My heart is a vacuum. A void I refuse to fill in... It's vacancy seems to be a lost cause. Robbed by circumstances of the past. Now, I can't be touched... I can't be moved... I am detached... Devoid of deep attachments... I **** in emotions to nothingness. It's inevitable I'll bring you to my emptiness... Forgive me for my heart is but a black hole.
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Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
Black Hole
It only takes one second For me to become attached And it only takes one second For us to come apart. Ripped at the seams, This attachment. Something that started so small, Ended so devastatingly.
0
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
Attachments