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#trombone
i have a bad habit where i talk really bad on myself and i never notice when i do it, but i never realized how toxic i can be to myself
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Mar 4, 2021
Mar 4, 2021 at 9:50 PM UTC
bad habit
Her hand moves in a back and forth manner as if she were playing the trombone But she's really just pulling my greñas spreading more Brillantina to make her baby's hair sparkle     even though its color is nowhere near that of brass
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Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 7:37 PM UTC
Brillantina
Sure, I'm not like other girls. I don't care about What others think of me. It really doesn't bother me. Who cares if they don't like me Because I choose to be friends With the people that they don't like. Just because I don't Wear super short shorts Or ripped skinny jeans Doesn't mean you need to bully me Every chance you get. Maybe I don't play The flute or clarinet. Maybe those instruments Don't like me What do you care If I play trombone? Just please. Don't bully me All because of the things I do: The friends I choose, The music I listen to, The instrument I play, The life I lead. Don't judge me For who I am, For who I want to be. Sure. I'm different. But that's okay, Sometimes it's good To stand out.
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Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 3:36 PM UTC
Standing Out
Silence inside a train is the only sound of life outside. Along a road a melody grows flirting with the countryside. The river wide and turgid flows to a relentless rhythm. Sometimes a flute plays between rays of sunshine and whispering winds. Clouds swell in a darkening sky to the groans of a sombre trombone. Inside listen to the rain watch it slash at the window panes.
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 6:58 AM UTC
Rearranged Days