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#effects
The Effects of Sibilance —————————— Sibilance is the reiteration of a sibilant sound—sounds produced by forcing air through a narrow channel—most commonly the ‘s’, ‘sh’, ‘ch’, and ‘z’ sounds. It’s not simply having these sounds in a text, but rather a noticeable and deliberate repetition to create a specific effect. It’s a type of consonance, focusing on these particular sounds due to their distinctive quality <> shhh my sweet, child of mine, who made me complete, time for silence sweet, your eyes to close, your breathing to sing to us both, so slowly sweet we meet sleep my distinctive son, store those tales of wizardry For the summoning of your dreams so sleepy heady Tell me all come in the morning When you refreshed You are at your best when no one dare shush you from your appointment with your creative life
0
May 9
May 9, 2026 at 4:59 AM UTC
Shhhh! The Effects of Sibilance (the sweetness of sounds)
World is full of effects, Effects are not puppets, It causes impacts, Which may detach. Saying something is easy, But for some it is fishy. Trust is best, But not as test. Some words are essential, But don't make as torrential!!
0
Feb 13, 2025
Feb 13, 2025 at 10:44 AM UTC
Torrential Effect!
The line in the sand is at such incredible depth but suddenly obtainable through unspoken tragic demarcation whatever the outcome the 91st floor comes from underneath they say today is happening outside of me and from a window along the stress fracture it's falling decidedly at your feet
0
Jun 23, 2024
Jun 23, 2024 at 2:10 PM UTC
San Andreas Fault
The Effects of Memory by Michael R. Burch A black ringlet curls to lie at the nape of her neck, glistening with sweat in the evaporate moonlight ... This is what I remember now that I cannot forget. And tonight, if I have forgotten her name, I remember ... rigid wire and white lace half-impressed in her flesh, our soft cries, like regret ... the enameled white clips of her bra strap still inscribe dimpled marks that my kisses erase ... now that I have forgotten her face. Distances by Michael R. Burch Moonbeams on water — the reflected light of a halcyon star now drowning in night ... So your memories are. Footprints on beaches now flooding with water; the small, broken ribcage of some primitive slaughter ... So near, yet so far. Bound by Michael R. Burch, circa age 14-15 Now it is winter—the coldest night. And as the light of the streetlamp casts strange shadows to the ground, I have lost what I once found in your arms. Now it is winter—the coldest night. And as the light of distant Venus fails to penetrate dark panes, I have remade all my chains and am bound. Published as “Why Did I Go?” in my high school journal the Lantern in 1976. I have made slight changes here and there, but the poem is essentially the same as what I wrote in my early teens. And a Little Child Shall Lead Them by Michael R. Burch 1. "Where's my daughter?" "Get on your knees, get on your knees!" "It's okay, Mommy, I'm right here with you." 2. where does the butterfly go when lightning rails when thunder howls when hailstones scream when winter scowls when nights compound dark frosts with snow ... where does the butterfly go? Four-year-old Dae'Anna Reynolds, nicknamed Dae Dae, loves fireworks; we can see her holding a "Family Pack" on the Fourth of July; the accompanying Facebook blurb burbles, "Anything to see her happy." But perhaps Dae Dae won’t appreciate fireworks nearly as much in the future, or "Independence" Day either. Diamond Lavish Reynolds, Dae Dae’s mother, will remain "preternaturally calm" during the coming encounter with the cops, or at least until the very end. Philando Divall Castile, cafeteria manager at a Montessori magnet school, was "famous for trading fist bumps with the kids and slipping them extra Graham crackers." Never convicted of a serious crime, he was done in by a broken tail light. Or was it his “wide-set nose” that made him look like a robbery suspect? Or was it racism, or perhaps just blind—and blinding—fear? Lavish, Dae Dae and Castile went from picnicking in the park early on the evening of the Fourth, in an "all-American idyll" celebrating freedom, to the opposite extreme: being denied the simple freedom to live and pursue happiness. Over a broken tail light and/or a suspiciously broad nose. Castile can be seen sitting on a park bench. Dae Dae and a friend are "running happily across the grass." Lavish, wearing an American flag top, exclaims, "Happy Fourth, everybody! Put the guns down, let these babies enjoy these fireworks!" Odd to have to put guns down to celebrate a holiday. Only in America, land of the free and the home of the brave? 3. where does the rose hide its bloom when night descends oblique and chill, beyond the capacity of moonlight to fill? when the only relief’s a banked fire’s glow where does the butterfly go? ... Now the cop’s gun is drawn in earnest, four shots ring out, Castile slumps over in his seat, a "gaping bullet hole in his arm," the vivid red blood seeping "across the chest of his white T-shirt." The cop continues to point his pistol into the car. His voice is "panicky." **** The same curse a Baton Rouge police officer screamed after shooting another black man in a similar incident. "He was reaching for his wallet and the officer just shot him!" "Ma'am just keep your hands where they are!" "I will sir, no worries." **** "I told him not to reach for it. I told him to get his hand open." "You told him to get out his ID, sir, and his driver's license." Little Dae Dae, sitting in the back seat, watches it all unfold. So praiseworthy when confronting the unthinkable, she seeks to console her mother, her voice "tender and reassuring" in marked contrast to the cop’s screams. "It's okay, Mommy, I'm right here with you." 4. and where shall the spirit flee when life is harsh, too harsh to face, and hope is lost without a trace? oh, when the light of life runs low, where does the butterfly go? "Oh my God, please don't tell me he's dead! Please don't tell me my boyfriend went like that!" "Keep your hands where they are, please!" Suddenly so polite, perhaps sensing some sort of mistake? "Yes, I will, sir. I'll keep my hands where they are." "It's okay, Mommy, I'm right here with you." 5. I lived as best I could, and then I died. Be careful where you step: the grave is wide. More cops appear on the scene. "Get the female passenger out!" "Ma'am exit the car right now, with your hands up. Exit now." "Keep 'em up, keep 'em up! Face away from me and walk backward! Keep walking!" "Where's my daughter? You got my daughter?" "Get on your knees! Get on your knees!" "It's okay, Mommy, I'm right here with you." 6. Something inescapable is lost— lost like a pale vapor curling up into shafts of moonlight, vanishing in a gust of wind toward an expanse of stars immeasurable and void. Something uncapturable is gone— gone with the spent leaves and illuminations of autumn, scattered into a haze with the faint rustle of parched grass and remembrance. Something unforgettable is past— blown from a glimmer into nothingness, or less, and finality has swept into a corner where it lies in dust and cobwebs and silence. "Ma'am, you're just being detained for now, until we get this straightened out, OK!" By now the cops realize the severity of the situation and Castile's injuries, which will result in his death within twenty minutes of the shooting. **** **** **** **** **** "Please don't tell me my boyfriend's gone! He don't deserve this! Please, he's a good man. He works for St. Paul Public Schools. He doesn't have a record of anything. He's never been in jail, anything. He's not a gang member, anything." Lavish begins praying aloud: "Allow him to be still here with us, with me … Please Lord, wrap your arms around him … Please make sure that he's OK, he's breathing … Just spare him, please. You know we are innocent people, Lord … We are innocent. My four-year-old can tell you about it." Lavish asks one of the cops if she can retrieve her phone. "It's right there, on the floor." **** It has to be processed." The cop speaks to Dae Dae, who has started heading back to the car. "Can you just stand right there, sweetie?" "No, I want to get my mommy's purse." "I'll take care of that for you, OK? Can you just stand right there for me?" The cops continue to treat Lavish as a suspect. She later said that the cops "treated me like a criminal ... like it was my fault." "Can you just search her?" Mother addresses daughter tenderly: "Come here, Dae Dae." "Mommy…" "Don't be scared." Lavish informs Facebook Live: "My daughter just witnessed this." She tips the phone's camera to the side window of the squad car: "That's the police officer over there that did it. I can't really do **** because they got me handcuffed." "It's OK, mommy." "I can't believe they just did this!" Lavish cries out, sounding "trapped, grief-torn." Dae Dae speaks again, "mighty with love," a child whose "quiet magnificence" commands us to also rise to the occasion. "It's okay, I'm right here with you." 7. And a little child shall lead them. Amen NOTE: The quoted parts of this poem were taken from a blow-by-blow account of the incident, "The Bravest Little Girl in the World," written by Michael Daly and published by The Daily Beast. Keywords/Tags: effects, memory, memories, remember, regret, moonlight, erase
0
Jun 9, 2024
Jun 9, 2024 at 7:55 PM UTC
The Effects of Memory
The Effects of Memory by Michael R. Burch A black ringlet curls to lie at the nape of her neck, glistening with sweat in the evaporate moonlight ... This is what I remember now that I cannot forget. And tonight, if I have forgotten her name, I remember ... rigid wire and white lace half-impressed in her flesh, our soft cries, like regret ... the enameled white clips of her bra strap still inscribe dimpled marks that my kisses erase ... now that I have forgotten her face. Distances by Michael R. Burch Moonbeams on water — the reflected light of a halcyon star now drowning in night ... So your memories are. Footprints on beaches now flooding with water; the small, broken ribcage of some primitive slaughter ... So near, yet so far. Bound by Michael R. Burch, circa age 14-15 Now it is winter—the coldest night. And as the light of the streetlamp casts strange shadows to the ground, I have lost what I once found in your arms. Now it is winter—the coldest night. And as the light of distant Venus fails to penetrate dark panes, I have remade all my chains and am bound. Published as “Why Did I Go?” in my high school journal the Lantern in 1976. I have made slight changes here and there, but the poem is essentially the same as what I wrote in my early teens. And a Little Child Shall Lead Them by Michael R. Burch 1. "Where's my daughter?" "Get on your knees, get on your knees!" "It's okay, Mommy, I'm right here with you." 2. where does the butterfly go when lightning rails when thunder howls when hailstones scream when winter scowls when nights compound dark frosts with snow ... where does the butterfly go? Four-year-old Dae'Anna Reynolds, nicknamed Dae Dae, loves fireworks; we can see her holding a "Family Pack" on the Fourth of July; the accompanying Facebook blurb burbles, "Anything to see her happy." But perhaps Dae Dae won’t appreciate fireworks nearly as much in the future, or "Independence" Day either. Diamond Lavish Reynolds, Dae Dae’s mother, will remain "preternaturally calm" during the coming encounter with the cops, or at least until the very end. Philando Divall Castile, cafeteria manager at a Montessori magnet school, was "famous for trading fist bumps with the kids and slipping them extra Graham crackers." Never convicted of a serious crime, he was done in by a broken tail light. Or was it his “wide-set nose” that made him look like a robbery suspect? Or was it racism, or perhaps just blind—and blinding—fear? Lavish, Dae Dae and Castile went from picnicking in the park early on the evening of the Fourth, in an "all-American idyll" celebrating freedom, to the opposite extreme: being denied the simple freedom to live and pursue happiness. Over a broken tail light and/or a suspiciously broad nose. Castile can be seen sitting on a park bench. Dae Dae and a friend are "running happily across the grass." Lavish, wearing an American flag top, exclaims, "Happy Fourth, everybody! Put the guns down, let these babies enjoy these fireworks!" Odd to have to put guns down to celebrate a holiday. Only in America, land of the free and the home of the brave? 3. where does the rose hide its bloom when night descends oblique and chill, beyond the capacity of moonlight to fill? when the only relief’s a banked fire’s glow where does the butterfly go? ... Now the cop’s gun is drawn in earnest, four shots ring out, Castile slumps over in his seat, a "gaping bullet hole in his arm," the vivid red blood seeping "across the chest of his white T-shirt." The cop continues to point his pistol into the car. His voice is "panicky." **** The same curse a Baton Rouge police officer screamed after shooting another black man in a similar incident. "He was reaching for his wallet and the officer just shot him!" "Ma'am just keep your hands where they are!" "I will sir, no worries." **** "I told him not to reach for it. I told him to get his hand open." "You told him to get out his ID, sir, and his driver's license." Little Dae Dae, sitting in the back seat, watches it all unfold. So praiseworthy when confronting the unthinkable, she seeks to console her mother, her voice "tender and reassuring" in marked contrast to the cop’s screams. "It's okay, Mommy, I'm right here with you." 4. and where shall the spirit flee when life is harsh, too harsh to face, and hope is lost without a trace? oh, when the light of life runs low, where does the butterfly go? "Oh my God, please don't tell me he's dead! Please don't tell me my boyfriend went like that!" "Keep your hands where they are, please!" Suddenly so polite, perhaps sensing some sort of mistake? "Yes, I will, sir. I'll keep my hands where they are." "It's okay, Mommy, I'm right here with you." 5. I lived as best I could, and then I died. Be careful where you step: the grave is wide. More cops appear on the scene. "Get the female passenger out!" "Ma'am exit the car right now, with your hands up. Exit now." "Keep 'em up, keep 'em up! Face away from me and walk backward! Keep walking!" "Where's my daughter? You got my daughter?" "Get on your knees! Get on your knees!" "It's okay, Mommy, I'm right here with you." 6. Something inescapable is lost— lost like a pale vapor curling up into shafts of moonlight, vanishing in a gust of wind toward an expanse of stars immeasurable and void. Something uncapturable is gone— gone with the spent leaves and illuminations of autumn, scattered into a haze with the faint rustle of parched grass and remembrance. Something unforgettable is past— blown from a glimmer into nothingness, or less, and finality has swept into a corner where it lies in dust and cobwebs and silence. "Ma'am, you're just being detained for now, until we get this straightened out, OK!" By now the cops realize the severity of the situation and Castile's injuries, which will result in his death within twenty minutes of the shooting. **** **** **** **** **** "Please don't tell me my boyfriend's gone! He don't deserve this! Please, he's a good man. He works for St. Paul Public Schools. He doesn't have a record of anything. He's never been in jail, anything. He's not a gang member, anything." Lavish begins praying aloud: "Allow him to be still here with us, with me … Please Lord, wrap your arms around him … Please make sure that he's OK, he's breathing … Just spare him, please. You know we are innocent people, Lord … We are innocent. My four-year-old can tell you about it." Lavish asks one of the cops if she can retrieve her phone. "It's right there, on the floor." **** It has to be processed." The cop speaks to Dae Dae, who has started heading back to the car. "Can you just stand right there, sweetie?" "No, I want to get my mommy's purse." "I'll take care of that for you, OK? Can you just stand right there for me?" The cops continue to treat Lavish as a suspect. She later said that the cops "treated me like a criminal ... like it was my fault." "Can you just search her?" Mother addresses daughter tenderly: "Come here, Dae Dae." "Mommy…" "Don't be scared." Lavish informs Facebook Live: "My daughter just witnessed this." She tips the phone's camera to the side window of the squad car: "That's the police officer over there that did it. I can't really do **** because they got me handcuffed." "It's OK, mommy." "I can't believe they just did this!" Lavish cries out, sounding "trapped, grief-torn." Dae Dae speaks again, "mighty with love," a child whose "quiet magnificence" commands us to also rise to the occasion. "It's okay, I'm right here with you." 7. And a little child shall lead them. Amen NOTE: The quoted parts of this poem were taken from a blow-by-blow account of the incident, "The Bravest Little Girl in the World," written by Michael Daly and published by The Daily Beast. Keywords/Tags: effects, memory, memories, remember, regret, moonlight, erase
Continue reading...
140
Searching for something that stars with “S” and ends in “tonin” to heal my thoughts. Just hand me a cigarette I already have cancer of the soul Searching for something that starts with “Oxy” and ends in “tocin” I drain the ocean from me as it drains from you Just prescribe me the ******* Prozac I’ll never feel pleasure ever again, anyways Is there a cure for dry mouth?
0
Dec 11, 2021
Dec 11, 2021 at 2:13 PM UTC
the cure
Continue to process the words in your head, extracting these whispers which simply linger and listen to each of those gifts delivered. Pick up on the frequencies which ring in sync, with a tone clear to hear that's felt from within, risen up from our chest to the head as it spreads. Draw in a line between each speckled dot, removing the fog to make sense of our self, helping unclog built up tears often hidden. When we try to grasp traits from silent ideas, varied trickle effects help let go of the fear. Prioritised tasks edge out further unclasped, where the forward thinking sinks in amongst us. Contemplative thought of feelings less said, as helpful hints given are informed well ahead.
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Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 8:19 PM UTC
Noise
Quarantine has been here for too long, And losing our minds ain't what we're afraid no more, We lay in bed and feel grey every night, Dreaming of the end of it all, Praying for the normal days to come back, Sanity is just not a thing no more. It's confusing, all that used to be amusing It's now gone, and we dance Upon the highest of the hopes, Losing our minds ain't what we're afraid no more, Quarantine has been here for too long.
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Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 12:42 PM UTC
About the quarantine
Poppies Paradise And playing the moon game With the last vestiges of sin All a memory forgotten Have no fear Drink it in You children of The Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes The life in you Has passed on
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Oct 6, 2020
Oct 6, 2020 at 8:24 AM UTC
The Waters of Lethe
Translating emotional state Takes some discipline and listening From thoughts to words in place Don't lose sight of actions in flight Tame the beast before it feasts Monkey brain reframed As allowing a creature out of a cage isn't necessarily the best way to participate Elevated above this primate state Contest shortness of breath in the chest Slow feelings in controlled action Pause for a rest and step left in turn Observe the effects that reflect on you best To check what you've left
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Oct 5, 2020
Oct 5, 2020 at 1:29 PM UTC
Filtrate
The white luminary finally sketched itself along the lines of the dark canvas sky... And my serene heart suddenly went out of the way... To spill all my secrets to the watcher in the sky...in wild sobs and silent howls... I hear ancient horses neigh and the crickets seem to be in a frenzy... Could I have helped myself from spilling my own secrets...? ... Somewhere deep inside the ocean... a sleeping oyster wakes to expose it's pearl bed to the same haunting shadow in the sky... It looks up to the brooding moon in question of how it forces without force... To come out of your hiding... Naked to the core! The oyster too wonders aloud :Could I have concealed my mystery a little further?
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Aug 13, 2020
Aug 13, 2020 at 1:06 PM UTC
Submission!
I remember the Fall I remember the bokeh Placed in a vase and kept by our bedroom window It took your breath away, fed off your lungs and grew so monstrous by dark We tried in vain to replace what was lost with the artificial: Albuterol haze, Gaussian distribution It failed, as you know And I too fell within the blur of the rebound effect, struggling to keep from panic Then rang alarums that lay-in-wait, then came red lights, then came shouting for help You laid on the livingroom floor, intubated Life nearly snuffed out Me in tremors, two cats hiding You would survive, but neither of us would ever be the people before Clearly, not all blur is equal, each has its own aesthetic quality Mine tends to fall under the umbrella of disturbing thought patterns We each reflect on different things about that day My fail-safe is trying not to remember at all
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Aug 20, 2020
Aug 20, 2020 at 4:07 PM UTC
Within the Blur
The Effects of Memory by Michael R. Burch A black ringlet curls to lie at the nape of her neck, glistening with sweat in the evaporate moonlight ... This is what I remember now that I cannot forget. And tonight, if I have forgotten her name, I remember ... rigid wire and white lace half-impressed in her flesh, our soft cries, like regret ... the enameled white clips of her bra strap still inscribe dimpled marks that my kisses erase ... now that I have forgotten her face. Published by Poetry Magazine, La luce che non muore (Italy), Carnelian, Triplopia, Net Poetry and Art Competition, Poetry Life & Times, The Eclectic Muse, Strange Road, Inspirational Stories, Kritya and Centrifugal Eye Keywords/Tags: Memory, effects, affects, hair, ringlet, neck, moonlight, vapor, evaporate, bra, clips, wire, lace, flesh, dimpled, kisses, erase, name, face
0
Mar 7, 2020
Mar 7, 2020 at 11:18 PM UTC
The Effects of Memory
I took a hit to fly away that day I should of known the high wont last Because when the crash came Like a fast train The dripping rain stopped The flashing lights drined And i passed out for 3 whole days In a puddle of freezing rain That was my skin That was my brain I woke up in a full body shake Need another hit just to stay awake To speed me up to keep me sane Maybe ill at least remember my name Or maybe this is all a game And thats a thought My brain can't shake My whole life is An endless earthquake All my emotions are becoming fake The high is the only taste i take Driving me to keep up the pace I need more to get the same effect My mind hurts, i need a rest Gotta stay high to keep at my best With the crash comes The crippling distress Of all my thoughts Rushing and pressed Into my consciousness Im out of breath Everytime i do this Im nearing my death
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Feb 21, 2020
Feb 21, 2020 at 11:43 AM UTC
Took a hit
Alright, perhaps I'm listless Drained, by my past now gone So, please don't get ahead of yourself You won't find what you're hoping for But I do hope you're not disappointed I can only be who I am, to who I try to be But if you so choose to go on with me I hope you remember what was said from the beginning Don't tell me that you love me Because I won't love back Don't tell me that you need me Because I don't need that Don't tell me that you want me Because I'm on my own So, When it all start to whittle Remember every bit of what was said, every bit of it Yes, maybe I want to be by myself Not wanting anyone else But I'm not For I truly hope you're not disappointed I could only be who I am, to who I try to be But if you so dare, to go on Don't you use those words, those gestures, Or even make promises that hold no meaning to you Because to me they will and once they do I hold on to them While I'm easily crippled, to be repaired with side effects. If I was to be honest I don't know either.
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May 7, 2019
May 7, 2019 at 12:16 AM UTC
If I was to be honest
at 4 A.M. you do these things they become habit eating in the middle of the night waking up as routine contemplating your plight contemplation of you what you do in the middle of the night is that really you or a symptom or side effect did you choose the road here or is it a neurological pathway a chemical imbalance a plaque to your horror at 4A.M. contemplating taking things apart or are they taking apart you
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May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 7:54 AM UTC
taking apart
I smile to keep my pain and suffering hidden away from the people who make my life a living hell... Because they don't realise the effects that they have on the people who they hurt. Sometimes, the pain gets so bad, I don't smile. I just keep a neutral face... without emotion because emotions are what lead to other issues.
0
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 8:29 PM UTC
The Smile
again hit the nail what is next to the verses what is next to the most beautiful and the most wonderful phenomenon phenomena effects pears again hit him again with his right foot how sick of it how sad from this why is he doing this to me so this nail 13.08.18
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Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 4:30 PM UTC
Hit The Nail.
I will be available On the day of the event If you are interested in this opportunity Please contact me You'll find her in a moment I really want to be involved with her I'm not going to be able and I don't want to Do anything for her anymore Seth is not a human But if you ask me about this I think I should have asked you In my mind and the fact that I am not going back
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Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 4:39 PM UTC
Auto predictions
I was taught Beauty is abstract, it can’t be purchased Later I found people taking 30 days challenges To get it faked I was taught Acnes are due to adolescence But now people don’t have them Thanks to Candy Camera Fluorescence I was taught Grace comes with knowledge and meditation But people came with another way They started shutting down their lactation No one is black or brown No one is fat, No one is frown Swagger is on high Spirituality somewhere left to die.
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Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 1:07 AM UTC
Beauty on SALE
i say i want to know i claim i want to know how people feel about me what do i do to them ? do i anger them ? confuse them ? frustrate them ? inspire them ? i fear im nothing but a nasty conglomerate of everything thats perfectly nauseating i fear im too much yet never enough i fear im too distant but always too attached i fear im too pessimistic but far too positive but really i dont want to know the thought of truly knowing what im doing terrifies me knowing will take away from the beautifully abstract mess that is my mind and its curiosity knowing will cause the weight of anxiety and responsibility to come pressing down on my feeble shoulders but at the same time it will be lifted no longer will i worry about hurting others for i will already know the damage ive caused so really i need to ask them do i wanna know ?
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Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 5:29 PM UTC
fear of knowing.
Throughout our lives we develop our personality and our complicated states of mind. And yet we still end up believing in our personal causes like it's world law. And sure, that may the most narcissistic thing I can think of right now, but it's my life is it not? And yes, a lot of what I just said doesn't make complete sense. So... Just bare with me. I just went through hell. And it takes the bravest and best of us to come back from that. You may not know what happened to me, so I'll pick apart my psyche so that maybe I can understand what happened to me. So here we go. Stick around if you want the details.
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Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 10:54 PM UTC
The Effects And The Complexes