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#peoples
Why have you sat down? Went into defeat so quickly, Are you afraid with the Words like spark of peoples , Even now there is no fire. Why have you sat down? Peep into your heart and see Does it allows you to lose, If yes then break the chains of your dream. And if no then stand and become a lock to peoples words with no key. Why have you sat down? Why did you quite living? It is the job of peoples to say, Today if not tomorrow the sand on the bank of river has to flow. But you are a stone , you also rip the water as long as you live , Do something because tomorrow Everyone has to sleep.
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Dec 11, 2020
Dec 11, 2020 at 3:59 AM UTC
Job of people will try to distract you
A senior monk and a junior monk were traveling together. At one point, they came to a river with a strong current. As the monks were preparing to cross the river, they saw a very young and beautiful woman also attempting to cross. The young woman asked if they could help her cross to the other side. The two monks glanced at one another because they had taken vows not to touch a woman. Then, without a word, the older monk picked up the woman, carried her across the river, placed her gently on the other side, and carried on his 
journey. The younger monk couldn’t believe what had just happened. After rejoining his companion, he was speechless, and an hour passed without a word between them. Two more hours passed, then three, finally the younger monk could contain himself any longer, and blurted out “As monks, we are not permitted a woman, how could you then carry that woman on your shoulders?” The older monk looked at him and replied, “Brother, I set her down on the other side of the river, why are you still carrying her?”
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Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 9:27 PM UTC
I'm fine, thanks.....!
I had coffee and a cigarette for breakfast So yeah I'm doing fine I've become good at taking weight off of other peoples shoulders and Searching for happiness in everything
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Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 2:04 PM UTC
...
Prevaricated Forth Write Declaration! As most every girl and boy taught back in the day, or more recently going to Zerns, a golden age of story telling, when rapt listening ears willingly leant eager attention to a riveting speaker such as this jolly shop o' horror keeper learned, modest, and non establishmentarian obliging self, ( who even now doth still yearns) to spin a tattling tale), this ole codger, who today more frequently, keenly, and patiently plods along memory lane then yesterday (along one, whose pathway, could be trekked blindfolded so often by foot thee trail traversed, (yet without ever feeling a sense of duff fete) over hills and thru woods thick with wary, scary, and Rem: markably hairy muppet like monsters, the author, who wrote 10,000 Leagues Under The Sea, (and other suspense filled stories namely the prolific writer Jules Gabriel Verne's), vivid imagination, would undoubtedly have experienced a field day in seventh heaven taking wooded rough hewn rudimentary walkabout by turns clear cut versus creepy simply to reach a one classroom per grade school, where masters did teach being apprenticed asper Art Of The Deal (latent within power to sound convincing, though "FAKE,)" but convincing legendary personal myths repeated to bolster appeal such as larger then life "Founding Fathers" unquestionable brazen, brave, and brass daring deeds across the Lake (Atlantic Ocean, whose worsted weave sub woofer - did make the 6:00 o'clock news the evening of July 4th 1776, and thus didst spake (perhaps with the help of Zarathustra) yet,...the under belly of such bravura involved take king (by subtle or obvious force) lands revered by Native Americans leaving a trail of tears, destruction, and death (more accurately genocide), thus my (expected patriotism) moored within wicked wake, hence aye avail muted tone deaf emotion on par with a charade particularly, where deportees of late awful treatment force me to a give a low (Failing) grade, where home of the brave land of the free do masquerade (or visa versa) makes a mockery, travesty, sham parade AND this chap feels as if, he too partook of murerderous indigenous raid!
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Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 11:48 PM UTC
Voyage to the Bottom of This...
Prevaricated Forth Write Declaration! As most every girl and boy taught back in the day, or more recently going to Zerns, a golden age of story telling, when rapt listening ears willingly leant eager attention to a riveting speaker such as this jolly shop o' horror keeper learned, modest, and non establishmentarian obliging self, ( who even now doth still yearns) to spin a tattling tale), this ole codger, who today more frequently, keenly, and patiently plods along memory lane then yesterday (along one, whose pathway, could be trekked blindfolded so often by foot thee trail traversed, (yet without ever feeling a sense of duff fete) over hills and thru woods thick with wary, scary, and Rem: markably hairy muppet like monsters, the author, who wrote 10,000 Leagues Under The Sea, (and other suspense filled stories namely the prolific writer Jules Gabriel Verne's), vivid imagination, would undoubtedly have experienced a field day in seventh heaven taking wooded rough hewn rudimentary walkabout by turns clear cut versus creepy simply to reach a one classroom per grade school, where masters did teach being apprenticed asper Art Of The Deal (latent within power to sound convincing, though "FAKE,)" but convincing legendary personal myths repeated to bolster appeal such as larger then life "Founding Fathers" unquestionable brazen, brave, and brass daring deeds across the Lake (Atlantic Ocean, whose worsted weave sub woofer - did make the 6:00 o'clock news the evening of July 4th 1776, and thus didst spake (perhaps with the help of Zarathustra) yet,...the under belly of such bravura involved take king (by subtle or obvious force) lands revered by Native Americans leaving a trail of tears, destruction, and death (more accurately genocide), thus my (expected patriotism) moored within wicked wake, hence aye avail muted tone deaf emotion on par with a charade particularly, where deportees of late awful treatment force me to a give a low (Failing) grade, where home of the brave land of the free do masquerade (or visa versa) makes a mockery, travesty, sham parade AND this chap feels as if, he too partook of murerderous indigenous raid!
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72
Tried to living like a blind man. Because it was painful, To seeing thing, without feeling, of anything.
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Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 1:10 PM UTC
Blindman #2
Falling or flying? Peoples falling in love. Peoples flying in the name of love. Landing after falling will get peoples broken in to pieces. Landing after flying will get peoples goodbyes. What the difference? If hurt is all those two could give.
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Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 10:49 PM UTC
Falling or Flying¿
A nation so starved for love so willing to strangle it out of any space they can grasp but too selfish to give any of their own Afraid there will be none left A people so oblivious to those around too caught up in our own lives to realize some of us don't come from loving homes of warmth but prisons with blood wardens with cold eyes No some of us would rather die and some of us have searching for that one moment to change it all That one second that proves were not transparent but just alive as everyone For a hand to reach or heart that holds Just a moment in the story of our life
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Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
The Story of Our Lives