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#reception
Blessed rice on rivers of love confetti danced into the ocean salt preserved the truth with consummate glory
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Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 2:50 PM UTC
Muizenberg beach-1993
I crossed another milestone, I grossed 340k reads as a poet. I was alone in the outside world, I ain't alone in the poetry world. I have no friends in reality, I have several friends here. I read & like lovely poems daily, I write just for she-yes-her daily. I had met her on Facebook, I read in love on this nook. I don't know the exact date but, All the things will be fine and, We will marry 6 years later.
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Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 1:01 AM UTC
The Milestone - A Repost
*I’m spending too much time on the phone Thinking about what not to say Rather than just saying that I think there’s not enough time in the day To tell you what you mean to me So my plan is to turn this day into a life Worth living a thousand times over And under, in front, and behind, 360 degrees of you on my mind I mean 160 characters is hardly enough To describe your character and The only emoji worth sending you Cannot be found on a backlit screen Or on an x-ray for that matter It’s found in the palm of my hand When it’s wrapped in yours Or on the tip of my tongue Dancing on your shore And sure I don’t mind texting you constantly But I’m more of a primal lover I need to give you my entire soul Not just a piece While returning the peace you leave in me So don’t worry about reception because If you think hard enough about me That just means I’m thinking just as hard about you And you feel it too So if this call ever drops And you haven't had enough You’ll always know how to find me*
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 5:20 AM UTC
Our Calling
Connection to my Mind, my rationality: Gone. amigoingcrazyithinkiamscareddont Touch me. Help me, heal me. Distractions are Keys are jingling, ringing. What is that Sound is nonexistent, just white noise. The line was cut.
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Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 10:26 AM UTC
Reception
Come, voice, back from the original black Ness, Foot, Yankee Jim I need a sign from a quasi mind not my own Fiefallu dendress mazaiyato Call. Answer. All my answers lead to nothing absolute. Call. Answer me. I'll answer you. Not a compulsion Never intended, just Fiefallu dendress true.
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Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 5:34 PM UTC
Life Eternal: Process of Reception
My skin can hear your colors From the other end Of happiness But the line is folding in a loop Closing in a circle And the end is the beginning Time is tesselating Unto itself But we have not the senses There is no loss Just continuation Into the unknown Relativity delays The arrival of awareness Consciousness is slow to form The cooling of the mold Takes a great deal more Hence, the procrastination Inert and habitual; Words taking root In everything My end and your beginning Collided into a freshly manifesting Iteration of existence The bud becomes The fruit A new cycle
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Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 6:30 PM UTC
Sense of Continuation
Forever in trouble for arts sake for people's duties and mistakes but soft and pure the plan is drawn with hands like feathers but mouths as claws.
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Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 12:07 PM UTC
the innocence of plans
For a universe that owes me nothing - it certainly expects a lot. I’m just a person with a pulse and some borrowed confidence. Does that surprise you? I don’t like being the center of attention. I think my Grandmère’s trying to grind that out of me by putting me in klieg-lit situations. Twice, in the last 6 months, she’s planned teeming receptions only to show up late - leaving me to do the line. I’ve ‘discussed’ it with her, “You’re not funny,” I dead-panned her, “STOP it - seriously.” Both times it happened, Peter (my bf) pumped me up to get me started, “Humiliation’s temporary,” he pronounced, and the next time, "You're tougher than I think.” “You’re the BEST,” was all I could reply, before I stepped into each small disaster. We’ve all been to parties, I assume. My Grandmère’s tend to be formal - which means stuffy - with important people who want to be with important people. The host greets everyone and makes them feel welcome. François, one of my Grandmère’s corporate minions had the task of standing discreetly in back of me to feed me names and facts - just like in a movie. When mingling, I practice conversational Jujutsu - I deliberately shift the conversational weight to the person opposite me. I’ve come to see hosting as choreography. I’m the Roomba of greeters. If Med-school has taught me anything, it’s that: People can sense panic the way dogs smell bacon. The trick is to keep smiling - until it feels like personality. . . A song for this: Royals (feat. Puddles Pity Party) by Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox Smile away by Paul McCartney
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Apr 22
Apr 22, 2026 at 11:39 AM UTC
pulse
For a universe that owes me nothing - it certainly expects a lot. I’m just a person with a pulse and some borrowed confidence. Does that surprise you? I don’t like being the center of attention. I think my Grandmère’s trying to grind that out of me by putting me in klieg-lit situations. Twice, in the last 6 months, she’s planned teeming receptions only to show up late - leaving me to do the line. I’ve ‘discussed’ it with her, “You’re not funny,” I dead-panned her, “STOP it - seriously.” Both times it happened, Peter (my bf) pumped me up to get me started, “Humiliation’s temporary,” he pronounced, and the next time, "You're tougher than I think.” “You’re the BEST,” was all I could reply, before I stepped into each small disaster. We’ve all been to parties, I assume. My Grandmère’s tend to be formal - which means stuffy - with important people who want to be with important people. The host greets everyone and makes them feel welcome. François, one of my Grandmère’s corporate minions had the task of standing discreetly in back of me to feed me names and facts - just like in a movie. When mingling, I practice conversational Jujutsu - I deliberately shift the conversational weight to the person opposite me. I’ve come to see hosting as choreography. I’m the Roomba of greeters. If Med-school has taught me anything, it’s that: People can sense panic the way dogs smell bacon. The trick is to keep smiling - until it feels like personality. . . A song for this: Royals (feat. Puddles Pity Party) by Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox Smile away by Paul McCartney
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32
At the reception I am bouncing everyone -- like silly putty.
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May 11, 2023
May 11, 2023 at 2:44 AM UTC
[ At the reception ]