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"competitive" poems
I think sometimes, about what it means to be transgender. I probe and probe for answers, because as the possibility for a new age of enlightenment and safety increases, the others want to know. I’ve come up with many answers, but I can hold to none. I don’t deserve to paint the definition of a culture with the limited experiences I’ve had. I don’t see myself in the transgender identified people allowed on television. I don’t see myself in the transgender identified people making news feeds and giving high profile interviews. And as my nation’s exposure to our culture increases, likely will their curiosity. Am I transgender? Do I have the right? I’ve heard doctors, psychiatrists, may refuse transgender patients access to hormone therapy based on how dedicated or convincing their portrayal of their identified gender. If you want to be a man or woman, you’ll have to look like the women and men on TV. If you want to be transgender, you’ll have to look like the trans identified people on TV. Every single one of us who has an active role as either participant or observer in our society is prey to the crisis of validity. Am I pretty enough? Am I strong enough? Am I brave enough? Mom enough? Dad enough? Competitive enough? Successful enough? Rich enough? **** enough? Pious enough? It never ends. We’re, as a nation of people, being crushed and compartmentalized by this ever present lens, looming over us, exploiting our weaknesses and fears so it may grow wider, and support itself as it follows us, seemingly forever into the future. And one of the worst fears this camera of existential torment exploits, in most of us every day, is, “Do I have a reflection?” “What does it look like?” “Do I look like me?” What does it mean to be transgender? I can’t get away from that question. But I don’t have an answer. There are varying degrees of anguish, depression, panic, anxiety, and other wonderful emotional states that creep up on you and breathe down your neck nearly every waking day. Absolute contempt for the lie of a life you’ve lived till now, and contempt for the fragments still stuck to you, in memories, attached to your body and mind. Fear of those in your own community who would purposefully humiliate, invalidate, or attack you, choosing their own universal moral code over the innate urge and capacity to support the health and continued well being of another human. A ******* neighbor. A ******* pupil. A ******* employee. A ******* sister, brother, son, daughter, mother, father, cousin, ******* blood. What is being transgender like? By my experiences, it’s just like being anyone else in the country. But with a lot more fear, death, exclusion and medication.
0
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 5:07 AM UTC
What is Transgender?
I think sometimes, about what it means to be transgender. I probe and probe for answers, because as the possibility for a new age of enlightenment and safety increases, the others want to know. I’ve come up with many answers, but I can hold to none. I don’t deserve to paint the definition of a culture with the limited experiences I’ve had. I don’t see myself in the transgender identified people allowed on television. I don’t see myself in the transgender identified people making news feeds and giving high profile interviews. And as my nation’s exposure to our culture increases, likely will their curiosity. Am I transgender? Do I have the right? I’ve heard doctors, psychiatrists, may refuse transgender patients access to hormone therapy based on how dedicated or convincing their portrayal of their identified gender. If you want to be a man or woman, you’ll have to look like the women and men on TV. If you want to be transgender, you’ll have to look like the trans identified people on TV. Every single one of us who has an active role as either participant or observer in our society is prey to the crisis of validity. Am I pretty enough? Am I strong enough? Am I brave enough? Mom enough? Dad enough? Competitive enough? Successful enough? Rich enough? **** enough? Pious enough? It never ends. We’re, as a nation of people, being crushed and compartmentalized by this ever present lens, looming over us, exploiting our weaknesses and fears so it may grow wider, and support itself as it follows us, seemingly forever into the future. And one of the worst fears this camera of existential torment exploits, in most of us every day, is, “Do I have a reflection?” “What does it look like?” “Do I look like me?” What does it mean to be transgender? I can’t get away from that question. But I don’t have an answer. There are varying degrees of anguish, depression, panic, anxiety, and other wonderful emotional states that creep up on you and breathe down your neck nearly every waking day. Absolute contempt for the lie of a life you’ve lived till now, and contempt for the fragments still stuck to you, in memories, attached to your body and mind. Fear of those in your own community who would purposefully humiliate, invalidate, or attack you, choosing their own universal moral code over the innate urge and capacity to support the health and continued well being of another human. A ******* neighbor. A ******* pupil. A ******* employee. A ******* sister, brother, son, daughter, mother, father, cousin, ******* blood. What is being transgender like? By my experiences, it’s just like being anyone else in the country. But with a lot more fear, death, exclusion and medication.
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1
Negativity is meaningful. It's detrimental and cynical. It deluges inside our heads. Making us feel insecure, unwanted and useless. They will prosper and thrive to reach out and make us feel smaller than them, to get inside of our minds and make us look in the mirror and see what we don't want to see. It eventually assassinates our minds. It dwells on top of the positive thoughts. But YOU need to remember that YOU are worth more than anything in this competitive, sick world.
0
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 1:32 PM UTC
True meanings
Terrifying. Ignorant. ****** Psychotic. Unforgiving. Over-emotional. Jealous. Competitive. Manipulative. Abusive. ****** Flirty. Criminal. Everything I just said. Is the reason why I despise the female gender. Good DAY.
0
Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 9:27 PM UTC
Girls
A view just before sunrise Resembles like a sunset But the difference is vast As it is fills with a hope of rays A view just before sunrise Is well felt deep inside When it starts to gleam With its sun rays A view just before sunrise Is a blooming sun of rays Which fill with bright lights And make beautiful sights A view just before sunrise Is a view of hopes Excited in full of vibes With its vibrant colours A view just before sunrise Is a one more chance Given to know the worth of lives To live with full of senses A view just before sunrise Is to be grateful to God’s grace To be a part of living miracles Especially in this competitive eras A view just before sunrise Is enjoyed well when it rises And when it rise to its bests It seems as smiling at us A view just before sunrise Is a smiley face of sun As of a blooming sunflower’s With its joyful pleasures A view just before sunrise Is the waiting periods To see the rising queen Reflecting as golden eyes A view just before sunrise Is hope of new days In its blessed paces For every faces A view just before sunrise Helps to plan in advance To utilise the opportunities With its best ways A view just before sunrise May bless us to rise With its immense cheers So all can have its leisures A view just before sunrise Is the stipulated time frames To harvest the best nuts From the life’s tests A view just before sunrise Is to raise yourselves To shine as jewel stones As a sun in yourselves A view just before sunrise Is to enjoy the glory of living vibes To make best diamond from coals So that it lustre in darks A view just before sunrise In nutshell, is a glorious shine As a diamond kept in caves To brighten the path of ways
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Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 8:04 PM UTC
VIEW JUST BEFORE SUNRISE
A view just before sunrise Resembles like a sunset But the difference is vast As it is fills with a hope of rays A view just before sunrise Is well felt deep inside When it starts to gleam With its sun rays A view just before sunrise Is a blooming sun of rays Which fill with bright lights And make beautiful sights A view just before sunrise Is a view of hopes Excited in full of vibes With its vibrant colours A view just before sunrise Is a one more chance Given to know the worth of lives To live with full of senses A view just before sunrise Is to be grateful to God’s grace To be a part of living miracles Especially in this competitive eras A view just before sunrise Is enjoyed well when it rises And when it rise to its bests It seems as smiling at us A view just before sunrise Is a smiley face of sun As of a blooming sunflower’s With its joyful pleasures A view just before sunrise Is the waiting periods To see the rising queen Reflecting as golden eyes A view just before sunrise Is hope of new days In its blessed paces For every faces A view just before sunrise Helps to plan in advance To utilise the opportunities With its best ways A view just before sunrise May bless us to rise With its immense cheers So all can have its leisures A view just before sunrise Is the stipulated time frames To harvest the best nuts From the life’s tests A view just before sunrise Is to raise yourselves To shine as jewel stones As a sun in yourselves A view just before sunrise Is to enjoy the glory of living vibes To make best diamond from coals So that it lustre in darks A view just before sunrise In nutshell, is a glorious shine As a diamond kept in caves To brighten the path of ways
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63
I haven't stayed up this late since our restless early morning contests to see who would fall victim to heavy eyelids and tired thoughts. I won of course, you most of the time, but I won on the longest nights (or so I'd like to think) though my satisfaction was rooted from something entirely different. To be honest, I could have cared less about the victor; I was competitive but I liked when you won - the shine in your voice and the glimmer in your smile telling me how I snored through the night (I didn't) was much more rewarding. I haven't stayed up this long since our late night conversations turned into early morning slurred sentences of who could make the most sense whilst repeating I love you inaudibly through earphone speakers and bundled blankets. And as much as the tiredness enveloped me in its embrace, the thought of yours implied through the telephone waves proved to be worthwhile, nonetheless. You were miles beyond my reach, but you were simple words away. ***I haven't stayed up this late since we fell asleep falling in love*** in different beds but with the same desires, on the same line; on the same page. And I hate to admit it, but I still like to think of it that way. - g.d.
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Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 3:58 AM UTC
3:58 am
This specific autumnal celebration is characterised by throbbing obscenities, where a masquerade of piety resembles the trembling jester as he performs before medieval royalty. Oh, to witness the salmon run in Northern ecosystems where the caniform classification stands in a dominant stance at the edge of the falls. So, my independent and competitive contemporary, let us bow with sober reflection at those anthropological schools who swim upstream in this spiritual river in the vain pursuit of unattainable freedom. Today, on this second Monday of October, the name of the game has been brutally ***** by propagandist salesmen. So, at this juncture of existential consumerism, we stand within the jaws of our ever-smiling aristocracy. But, if you dare to open your eyes, my friend of unfathomable denial; you will find that the tradition is called Thanksgiving.
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Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 9:46 PM UTC
The Gratitude of Consumerism
capable but unmotivated, love being different, hate being misunderstood, impulsive long term planner. strange mix of super private and open book. rational yet unrealistic. great at giving advice, bad at following it. arrogant, but painfully aware of my flaws sure of myself, yet unassuming introverted extrovert, rigorous yet care-free, perpetual loner with tons of friends. energetic but lazy, sensitive, yet cold hearted gregarious yet studious, intelligent but spacey, personal, yet detached. unhealthy, yet understanding therapist, competitive mediator. The optimist who just wants to see the world burn. Where do I fit in?
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Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 7:24 AM UTC
I am a Contradiction.
Food for thought Savor in flavor within structural tone A former Competitive Bodybuilder who could hold his own He exercised to gain and ate to maintain It was dignity and honor in appreciation of aim Being a Competitive Bodybuilder requires all intensity But it was about winning on the stage spotlight being a reality Yet beyond Bodybuilding, there was something about food and preparing a very exotic cuisine You will see down the line in what I mean The former Competitive Bodybuilder felt that being a Chef was always his dream Now it will be a reality like a running stream But to be a good Chef you need the right education and Mentor Yes a Chef for sure Bake until rise Savor the taste with the right ingredients being the surprise Being a competitive Bodybuilder, one accepts the challenges in being the best But when it comes to a Cuisine Chef, it will be the food critics who will contest Patrons that will eat a Chef’s dish will be the true confess So ovens over the world There is a Chef to make your taste buds swirl What will he prepare? That is something I won’t share You will have to experience for yourself Taste I am sure you will enjoy This is a true story of a Chef He has cooking to do with not much time left. Ship Ahoy!
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Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 4:29 PM UTC
COMPETITIVE BODYBUILDER TURNED CUISINE CHEF
craigslist posts on women Things women hate about other women (MICHIGAN) I'm a man and I got no problems with beautiful women and love looking at and spending time with them. Listed some of the problems women have with other women and why some of them get to be targets of world's biggest haters. 1. Beauty - If the women think you are prettier than them, the more threatened they feel. They feel like ogre and hags around the woman and become haters. 2. Intelligence - It's okay to be smart but not if people are reaching for dictionaries or have to google to translate your last sentence. The bigger the words, the smaller your audience feels. 3. Hard Work Ethic - no woman wants to know another woman is working harder and reaping rewards from it. Women want that hard working woman gone. 4. Confidence - Women can't stand women who are confident. 5. Dress better - women hate other women who dress better than them. Women who dress flashy are called ****** by ****** ones who hate them. 6. Strong Personality - women have serious issues with women who are strong and speak minds. 7. Competitive - women are competitive by nature and when they feel they can't compete they hate. 8. Affluent - women being richer than another woman is not what other women want. You see women have to have more money than other women or the richer one get called all kinds of name. Women feel threatened and intimidated by other women faster than by men who they flirt with and plot to get as sugar dads. Biggest problem of women are women who hate other women Response to post competition in women Ever have a female friend who flirted with you knowing you had feelings for another woman? Been there with a few ladies who wanted nothing to do with me when I alone. Moment the office sweetheart started saying hi and took interest, I got popular with some of my co-workers who started saying hi and flirting. That's the competitive thing happening in women's brains. Where the hell were all the women when nobody wanted me?
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Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 5:28 PM UTC
truth about women
craigslist posts on women Things women hate about other women (MICHIGAN) I'm a man and I got no problems with beautiful women and love looking at and spending time with them. Listed some of the problems women have with other women and why some of them get to be targets of world's biggest haters. 1. Beauty - If the women think you are prettier than them, the more threatened they feel. They feel like ogre and hags around the woman and become haters. 2. Intelligence - It's okay to be smart but not if people are reaching for dictionaries or have to google to translate your last sentence. The bigger the words, the smaller your audience feels. 3. Hard Work Ethic - no woman wants to know another woman is working harder and reaping rewards from it. Women want that hard working woman gone. 4. Confidence - Women can't stand women who are confident. 5. Dress better - women hate other women who dress better than them. Women who dress flashy are called ****** by ****** ones who hate them. 6. Strong Personality - women have serious issues with women who are strong and speak minds. 7. Competitive - women are competitive by nature and when they feel they can't compete they hate. 8. Affluent - women being richer than another woman is not what other women want. You see women have to have more money than other women or the richer one get called all kinds of name. Women feel threatened and intimidated by other women faster than by men who they flirt with and plot to get as sugar dads. Biggest problem of women are women who hate other women Response to post competition in women Ever have a female friend who flirted with you knowing you had feelings for another woman? Been there with a few ladies who wanted nothing to do with me when I alone. Moment the office sweetheart started saying hi and took interest, I got popular with some of my co-workers who started saying hi and flirting. That's the competitive thing happening in women's brains. Where the hell were all the women when nobody wanted me?
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15
I do not see the hype with High School Stereotype. Why does it receive such attention? It doesn't need the press's mention. We all know of the smokers by the bike sheds, Who have nothing but fluff in their heads. Or the girls with skirts far too short Who's think of *** as a competitive sport. The sport buffs, we've all seen, Full of life and far too keen. Always poised and ready to go, Every muscle toned from head to toe. Young student teachers are here, Enthusiastic about Bill Shakespeare. Attempting to teach thugs to spell, Whilst shady Heads make their life hell. But do not forget, those you call friend. The ones who stay by you until the end. Making you laugh, Keeping you sane Through rough times they remain. These companions fit no mould Therefore their tale is never told. For the greatest things in teen life Do not need the media's strife
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Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 4:42 PM UTC
High School Stereotype
Camera, lights, action... Wake up, get up and don't forget to stay up. Sway n walk but remember not to drop, this is what we are going to call fashion. Bring your hips left to right, stand up tall and try not to fright. Bright lights up in it, cause every gentleman loves to stare as the senorita walks up the stairs in her high stilettos. Smell of fresh fabric and the grip of leather tights, take it and wear it because tonight you're the Queen of the ball baby, coming out through the dark light. We want fashion, poise and something to call Sensuous. Do the cat walk Strike a pose and tip to your toes, cause tonight is fashion. Competitive looks and reading books, you know you're in it for the game to win it.
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Jul 20, 2021
Jul 20, 2021 at 11:53 PM UTC
F.A.S.H.I.O.N
Dear Talia, I don't want to be a tortured artist. I don't want to be depressed and I don't want to be anxious. Competitive sadness and disorders treated like accessories disgust me. The world glamorizes mental illness, and I don't understand why. There is nothing romantic about being mentally ill just like how there's nothing glamorous about a broken wrist or a torn medial collateral ligament. There's nothing romantic about constantly being afraid that the world will fold in itself and **** you with it. There's nothing romantic about feeling like you could break down and cry at any moment. This is the first piece I've written while being medicated. I want it to be Christmas already. The world dreams itself a halo, but can only attain horns. The halo is an illusion and the horns are an idea. I'm due to take another Lorazepam. Would I look cool to the kids who idolize dysfunction and misinterpret pain as style, if I were to take one of these, with water and a distant glance, in front of them? Geez, to have their approval would to have everything and nothing at all. I'm not sure why I've written as much about this as I have. You. It is 2:48 am and all I can think about, in this moment, is you. I can't wait to spend Christmas with you. I can't wait to wear bad Christmas sweaters, and be the couple everyone hates, as we sing Christmas carols and spread holiday cheer. I wrote this poem a few minutes ago. Sometime around 2:30 am. I'm not sure. I'm exhausted: I sat on the edge of my bed, and on the edge of my life, medicated to the point of pointlessness. Soft. It was the nineteenth, not the twentieth, and I wished I saw the fireworks with her fifteen days earlier. My gasps tore the shingles off of the house. And they hung suspended above the hole in the roof. And God stared down into my room, as the shingles swirled skyward. "I see you," I said, "but I don't believe in you." I left home and ran until I was a dream that had passed itself. I hope that was okay. I love you. Yours, Joshua Haines
0
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 2:56 AM UTC
July 20, 2014
Dear Talia, I don't want to be a tortured artist. I don't want to be depressed and I don't want to be anxious. Competitive sadness and disorders treated like accessories disgust me. The world glamorizes mental illness, and I don't understand why. There is nothing romantic about being mentally ill just like how there's nothing glamorous about a broken wrist or a torn medial collateral ligament. There's nothing romantic about constantly being afraid that the world will fold in itself and **** you with it. There's nothing romantic about feeling like you could break down and cry at any moment. This is the first piece I've written while being medicated. I want it to be Christmas already. The world dreams itself a halo, but can only attain horns. The halo is an illusion and the horns are an idea. I'm due to take another Lorazepam. Would I look cool to the kids who idolize dysfunction and misinterpret pain as style, if I were to take one of these, with water and a distant glance, in front of them? Geez, to have their approval would to have everything and nothing at all. I'm not sure why I've written as much about this as I have. You. It is 2:48 am and all I can think about, in this moment, is you. I can't wait to spend Christmas with you. I can't wait to wear bad Christmas sweaters, and be the couple everyone hates, as we sing Christmas carols and spread holiday cheer. I wrote this poem a few minutes ago. Sometime around 2:30 am. I'm not sure. I'm exhausted: I sat on the edge of my bed, and on the edge of my life, medicated to the point of pointlessness. Soft. It was the nineteenth, not the twentieth, and I wished I saw the fireworks with her fifteen days earlier. My gasps tore the shingles off of the house. And they hung suspended above the hole in the roof. And God stared down into my room, as the shingles swirled skyward. "I see you," I said, "but I don't believe in you." I left home and ran until I was a dream that had passed itself. I hope that was okay. I love you. Yours, Joshua Haines
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27
You should know that I often fall in love with girls I play board games with. Really, it's nothing personal. It's just that when I get competitive, sometimes I get romantic Someone once told me that they can't love someone until they've witnessed their worst, and I think you should know that I'm not my worst self anymore. Breaking down isn't realness. So for all that self awareness.. I am more of a coward than I am a king And I will fill my time with more ordinary things Because I can barely stand the way all these feelings within me sing
0
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 8:00 PM UTC
Nothing Personal
It’s moments like this Some obscure song playing on our google home My brother, gazing off into the distance no doubt under the spell of some great philosophical inquiry, Neglecting the spoon and it’s contents Drip drip dripping My mother in the corner, seemingly preoccupied, slender fingers probing what appears to be Yet another bag Of those chocolate covered toffee almonds My father, ever the victor in competitive eating, up and roaming about By the window one moment, at the couch the next Gone like the wind, oh here he comes Meanwhile I, face a great trial which I must overcome in order to greet my destiny -stairs At the top of which await Dozens upon dozens of procrastinated Assignments just calling to me Stirring up within me a desire, A ferocious flaming ambition, To not move an inch
0
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 1:57 PM UTC
Lunch Time at My House
It is believed to exist; It is often what we as people strive for; Something for which we are prepared to persist. Perfection is a drug, perfection is a demon; Perfection is what often makes us forget that we are human; By virtue of expectation, We engulf one another in clouds of smoke; Creating a screen for ourselves, Causing one another to choke; We make it a burden for others; Make their lives unbearable, Yet we ourselves never want to bear this yoke. Perfection as an ideal isn’t bad, It has brought man to, and through, Millennia where men believe in themselves. Man, as a creature, will never fly, But we have inventions that bring us perfectly close. We’ve created environments that allow us to do things at lightning speed; We’ve more or less streamlined our every need. But that’s what we don’t get! Perfection, however lovely, will forever be an ideal; We all need to understand that it isn’t real; Like most things on earth, perfection is relative. I’m not , for one moment, suggesting that we stop being competitive! No, not at all! All I suggest is that we stop burdening one another; Be it you friend, wife, husband, father, mother, sister or brother. The societal norm of giving each other 10 crosses at a time, With no apparent reason, is only going to cause the issue to deepen; Propagate itself, as we bid humanity adieu. Do not expect what you cannot give, That, for me, is the better way to live; And if you can give something to others, Try and not expect it back always. For we are all human, And can only dream of perfection in any case.......
0
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 11:39 AM UTC
Perfection
It is believed to exist; It is often what we as people strive for; Something for which we are prepared to persist. Perfection is a drug, perfection is a demon; Perfection is what often makes us forget that we are human; By virtue of expectation, We engulf one another in clouds of smoke; Creating a screen for ourselves, Causing one another to choke; We make it a burden for others; Make their lives unbearable, Yet we ourselves never want to bear this yoke. Perfection as an ideal isn’t bad, It has brought man to, and through, Millennia where men believe in themselves. Man, as a creature, will never fly, But we have inventions that bring us perfectly close. We’ve created environments that allow us to do things at lightning speed; We’ve more or less streamlined our every need. But that’s what we don’t get! Perfection, however lovely, will forever be an ideal; We all need to understand that it isn’t real; Like most things on earth, perfection is relative. I’m not , for one moment, suggesting that we stop being competitive! No, not at all! All I suggest is that we stop burdening one another; Be it you friend, wife, husband, father, mother, sister or brother. The societal norm of giving each other 10 crosses at a time, With no apparent reason, is only going to cause the issue to deepen; Propagate itself, as we bid humanity adieu. Do not expect what you cannot give, That, for me, is the better way to live; And if you can give something to others, Try and not expect it back always. For we are all human, And can only dream of perfection in any case.......
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36
sunrise                                                      ­                                           first optic pins toe-tipping play across the meadow wind bends the forrest fringe west away the trees adverse to receive priestly daylight after all the       business             completed     during a most competitive and predatory                                                    night
0
May 18, 2022
May 18, 2022 at 9:19 PM UTC
011
It was 29° (f) degrees this morning with a waning gibbous (¾) moon. Still, as we started our run, it was dark enough that the world was rendered in black and white. Lisa was a sepia print of herself while Charles was a large, quiet shadow, a dark visual noise pattern. We usually jog from our dorm, down to and along New Haven Harbor and back. Lisa and I love the ocean. The wind was in our faces this morning and there were no sparkling moon refractions in our direction, which made the water musou and colorless. I’ve gotten my outfit down to a science, leggings under shorts, four long sleeve, dry-wicking spandex tops (layering is important), a power-wool-earflap-beanie, thermal neck gaiter and quantum, icebreaker gloves (with touch-screen compatibility) - you gotta dress warmly but be able to shed layers as needed. I listen to audiobooks while we run. Right now I’m on book 5 of the ‘The Expanse’ series. I don’t have time to read anything fun these days, so I listen to science-fiction/fantasy while I workout. I love the new AirPod Pro feature that automatically turns the sound down if anyone talks. I wear a fitbit charge around my right ankle and my Apple watch as well - they both track my run - the fitbit is more accurate but my watch sends my workout stats to my siblings - we’re uhh, sort of competitive. At first, as we came up on the harbor, it was impossible to see the intersection of the two dark oceans - the great terrestrial and the greater galactic - but as we turned for home, there was an atmospheric scatter of blue at the edge of the horizon, heralding the sunrise on our retreating backs. musou = one of the darkest shades of black
0
Nov 2, 2023
Nov 2, 2023 at 7:41 PM UTC
along the harbor
It was 29° (f) degrees this morning with a waning gibbous (¾) moon. Still, as we started our run, it was dark enough that the world was rendered in black and white. Lisa was a sepia print of herself while Charles was a large, quiet shadow, a dark visual noise pattern. We usually jog from our dorm, down to and along New Haven Harbor and back. Lisa and I love the ocean. The wind was in our faces this morning and there were no sparkling moon refractions in our direction, which made the water musou and colorless. I’ve gotten my outfit down to a science, leggings under shorts, four long sleeve, dry-wicking spandex tops (layering is important), a power-wool-earflap-beanie, thermal neck gaiter and quantum, icebreaker gloves (with touch-screen compatibility) - you gotta dress warmly but be able to shed layers as needed. I listen to audiobooks while we run. Right now I’m on book 5 of the ‘The Expanse’ series. I don’t have time to read anything fun these days, so I listen to science-fiction/fantasy while I workout. I love the new AirPod Pro feature that automatically turns the sound down if anyone talks. I wear a fitbit charge around my right ankle and my Apple watch as well - they both track my run - the fitbit is more accurate but my watch sends my workout stats to my siblings - we’re uhh, sort of competitive. At first, as we came up on the harbor, it was impossible to see the intersection of the two dark oceans - the great terrestrial and the greater galactic - but as we turned for home, there was an atmospheric scatter of blue at the edge of the horizon, heralding the sunrise on our retreating backs. musou = one of the darkest shades of black
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7
i want to scream at the top of the world and proclaim to the people that you are the one i love but i sit at the base of the mountain with my legs crossed over each other breathing deeply into my lungs patiently waiting for the trees to fall around me and upon deafening ears. you bring out something inside of me that i don't believe i've ever felt before and yet, this feeling is terrifying for i fear its longevity and weight. but there is a calmness in this chaos for in the center of the storm is peace and i find it quite nice to be sitting here with you beside me as i calculate the stars and how they aligned to get me here with you. compassionate eyes rest on you and i give my most vulnerable self to your open palms. how much my open heart bleeds for your love and yet, how much i want to wrap it up and store it away for you to never see. but you've had that key round your neck and you unlocked me from the very start my soul got outta the box, the second you held my hand in the car the second(s) you played your favorite song(s) for me the second you opened your closets and allowed those skeletons to scatter the second you laid on me and fell asleep with my hands in your hair the second you looked at me with truth and told me you loved me, really. the second you held me all night long, in a way that i've never been held before the second you put on those cheap sunglasses to hide your poker face the second you let go of your fear and let love take over the seconds in between our silences the seconds in between our kisses the seconds in between our meetings the seconds in between dumb jokes and stupidity and reckless abandon the seconds in between our competitive stares the seconds in between one song and the next the seconds of peeling back another layer of who we truly are... poindexter says: the greatest second of your life, is the moment you fall in love but i have a contrast and complex feeling about this because we fall in love many times in our life so rather, the greatest seconds of my life are the ones i'm spending with you. regardless of the fear i hold deep there is something special about you and something special about this -- i don't know what it is yet, but as I've learned i don't need to know everything and that is the greatest lesson of them all.
0
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 12:42 PM UTC
the most honest love poem
i want to scream at the top of the world and proclaim to the people that you are the one i love but i sit at the base of the mountain with my legs crossed over each other breathing deeply into my lungs patiently waiting for the trees to fall around me and upon deafening ears. you bring out something inside of me that i don't believe i've ever felt before and yet, this feeling is terrifying for i fear its longevity and weight. but there is a calmness in this chaos for in the center of the storm is peace and i find it quite nice to be sitting here with you beside me as i calculate the stars and how they aligned to get me here with you. compassionate eyes rest on you and i give my most vulnerable self to your open palms. how much my open heart bleeds for your love and yet, how much i want to wrap it up and store it away for you to never see. but you've had that key round your neck and you unlocked me from the very start my soul got outta the box, the second you held my hand in the car the second(s) you played your favorite song(s) for me the second you opened your closets and allowed those skeletons to scatter the second you laid on me and fell asleep with my hands in your hair the second you looked at me with truth and told me you loved me, really. the second you held me all night long, in a way that i've never been held before the second you put on those cheap sunglasses to hide your poker face the second you let go of your fear and let love take over the seconds in between our silences the seconds in between our kisses the seconds in between our meetings the seconds in between dumb jokes and stupidity and reckless abandon the seconds in between our competitive stares the seconds in between one song and the next the seconds of peeling back another layer of who we truly are... poindexter says: the greatest second of your life, is the moment you fall in love but i have a contrast and complex feeling about this because we fall in love many times in our life so rather, the greatest seconds of my life are the ones i'm spending with you. regardless of the fear i hold deep there is something special about you and something special about this -- i don't know what it is yet, but as I've learned i don't need to know everything and that is the greatest lesson of them all.
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Hazed by the dire rope of death A subtle incandescence flickered A white light glimmered like **** Whilst hushed peaked a snicker Her smile an adequate sedative Terminating vivid estuaries A moment equally competitive In other eyes deemed honorary Mi corazón happened upon felicity Blessed be this origin of jubilee Freeze we shall in fair amenity Beneath this fine cherry tree
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Feb 15, 2012
Feb 15, 2012 at 7:32 PM UTC
Lucy X
Don't mind me I'll just be licking my lips Being your translucent temptation You wont see my attempts because baby, they aren't there for your eyes. I know you like the view from the back, But how about you learn to see things more clearly? Open those eyes. You liked to play games, But I'm competitive. You can see but you can't touch? Childs play. You can sense, but you can't see/feel/touch. Maybe, Just maybe in a blink of an eye you can taste... But I'm gone.
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Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
salvatoré
You know what, this is not a love story this time. In this case, it never was. I thought it was, but I was mistaken and lied to by my lonely heart. And For once, I am standing my ground and telling you what you deserve to hear. **** you. **** you for making me so dependent on you that I was scared to stand up to you, even though you were cruel to everyone I loved. You may have thought you were cute, you may have thought it was your odd way of love, but it was honestly just an excuse to be an utter ***** to everyone and none of us should have tolerated it. **** you for competing with me. I am not a competitive person, but you'd laugh and comment how you were better, smarter, more mature. It drove me wild. Not only because your arrogance made me want to drive you into the ground, but also because it made me feel like I had to prove myself to you, brag in front of you, compete with you to feel worthy. **** you for turning on me at my weakest. Over a boy for god's sakes. I was your best friend, the one you turned to and confided in, and you started to completely disregard me over a boy I had feelings for first. You had no respect for our friendship in any facet, and it made me regret letting you in at all. **** you for always being at the back of my mind, for being so infuriatingly insidious that I have to always check up on you and worry about you even though you don't deserve it. For doing things that don't make me feel anything but pity and concern for your life, instead of being proud and maybe thinking I could accept you. **** you for making me want to **** myself. For being the selfish catalyst who showed me the cuts on her legs and made me feel so guilty that I didn't deserve life. Everyone deserves life, even the cruelest of people, and to purposefully make me feel that worthless, just to try to win me back, was the most heartless, selfish, thoughtless thing you could have ever done. **** you for being similar to me in any frivolous way, because now I am utterly terrified to be anything like you. Obsessive, rude, cruel, thoughtless, and selfish. I fear for my boyfriend, my friends, everyone around me because I know being your friend has given me the capacity to be just as ruthless as you. And I hate you for it. **** you for making me forget anything pleasurable about our relationship. All I can feel is a burning frustration when I hear your name, or an overwhelming sadness, or endless anger. None of it is pleasant. **** you for everything you've done to me, and **** the dark part of my heart that exists now because of your knives stabbing me in the back. **** you for still making me think about you, and **** you for any part of me that is like you. I'm done with you. This is the end. Its ******* over. And just remember. **** you.
0
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
**** You.
You know what, this is not a love story this time. In this case, it never was. I thought it was, but I was mistaken and lied to by my lonely heart. And For once, I am standing my ground and telling you what you deserve to hear. **** you. **** you for making me so dependent on you that I was scared to stand up to you, even though you were cruel to everyone I loved. You may have thought you were cute, you may have thought it was your odd way of love, but it was honestly just an excuse to be an utter ***** to everyone and none of us should have tolerated it. **** you for competing with me. I am not a competitive person, but you'd laugh and comment how you were better, smarter, more mature. It drove me wild. Not only because your arrogance made me want to drive you into the ground, but also because it made me feel like I had to prove myself to you, brag in front of you, compete with you to feel worthy. **** you for turning on me at my weakest. Over a boy for god's sakes. I was your best friend, the one you turned to and confided in, and you started to completely disregard me over a boy I had feelings for first. You had no respect for our friendship in any facet, and it made me regret letting you in at all. **** you for always being at the back of my mind, for being so infuriatingly insidious that I have to always check up on you and worry about you even though you don't deserve it. For doing things that don't make me feel anything but pity and concern for your life, instead of being proud and maybe thinking I could accept you. **** you for making me want to **** myself. For being the selfish catalyst who showed me the cuts on her legs and made me feel so guilty that I didn't deserve life. Everyone deserves life, even the cruelest of people, and to purposefully make me feel that worthless, just to try to win me back, was the most heartless, selfish, thoughtless thing you could have ever done. **** you for being similar to me in any frivolous way, because now I am utterly terrified to be anything like you. Obsessive, rude, cruel, thoughtless, and selfish. I fear for my boyfriend, my friends, everyone around me because I know being your friend has given me the capacity to be just as ruthless as you. And I hate you for it. **** you for making me forget anything pleasurable about our relationship. All I can feel is a burning frustration when I hear your name, or an overwhelming sadness, or endless anger. None of it is pleasant. **** you for everything you've done to me, and **** the dark part of my heart that exists now because of your knives stabbing me in the back. **** you for still making me think about you, and **** you for any part of me that is like you. I'm done with you. This is the end. Its ******* over. And just remember. **** you.
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Christian louboutin NEW YORK, March 12 (Xinhua) -- The Economist Intelligence Unit released here on Monday a new research report showing that New York ranks first in competitiveness among 120 world's major cities. Christian louboutin shoes The report titled Hot Spots ranks the most competitive cities in the world for their demonstrated ability to attract capital, business, talent and tourists. Christian louboutin It highlights New York City's innovative Applied Sciences NYC project, which has resulted in the development of a new applied sciences campus being built on Roosevelt Island, expected to generate 6 billion U.S. Red bottomsdollars in economic activity. Christian louboutin shoes "New York City's position at the very top of this list is no accident: it's due to the investments our Administration has made and the world-famous ingenuity and creativity of New Yorkers," red bottom shoes said New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg. red bottom shoes New data from the New York State Department of Labor showed that New York City is leading the nation in terms of economic recovery, red bottom and the private sector jobs were added at a rate almost 60 percent greater than the country as a whole in 2011. red bottom shoes London was the second most competitive city, followed by Singapore, with Paris and Hong Kong tied for fourth place, according to the report. Among U.S. cities, Washington D.C., Chicago and Boston made the top 10. red bottom shoes
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Mar 13, 2012
Mar 13, 2012 at 6:43 AM UTC
NYC ranks first in global competitiveness: report
In this world of capitalism, we're driven by consumerism. We act out of a sense of entitlement. At times, we order others like a servant. We think we deserve our rights, and just for that we'll fight. Just so that we can win, We'll raise our voice and create a scene. In our competitive society, There is so much emphasis on productivity. We end up becoming exploitative. Can the outcome really be positive? We need to think carefully, if we can live with ourselves comfortably, when most of our gain, is built on another's pain. Perhaps we should really see, that we're not much different. You and Me. There's so much more that we could be. Be the change that you want to see. To others, they might be somebody: A daughter, a sister, a lover, a wife. Please give some honour to their life.
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Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC
Productivity VS Humanity?
At 8:30 this morning I was still hopeful. I still had a chance. It was possible. It was mine. An hour later "We regret to inform you..." An hour later it was over. the 4 months of waiting for absolutely nothing was over. "Excellent pool of candidates..." I wondered if that made me less excellent. "highly competitive and qualified..." Was I not qualified? I replayed my application over and over in my head and it sounded like it was mine. "Oh, it was national" says my father. Maybe I'm only qualified when it comes to Wisconsin, because the same thing happened to me at Regionals... Somewhere in America there is someone better equipped for your dream. "We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors" Well, what if I have no luck left? What if I'm not excellent enough? What if I'm not qualified enough? What if I'm not deserving enough? Then I look over my Journalism application. 120 spots. 120 qualified people out of a pool of who knows how many. My morning made me feel unqualified as if there was a slim chance I could possibly obtain anything I truly wanted. Then there's Beyonce and Jay-Z tickets everyone is raving about, but I'm in a stand still because I have **** I need to do. I have dreams that money actually can buy. So while everyone is raving about concert tickets, I'm at a standstill wondering how in the hell will I afford to make my dreams come true when Beyonce could've made them happen 100 times over and then some... Feeling unlucky, unwealthy, and under qualified Then a friend tells me "cast your anxiety upon the lord" Deep breath in. Exhale. Something greater is coming my way.
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Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 9:43 PM UTC
Unlucky
At 8:30 this morning I was still hopeful. I still had a chance. It was possible. It was mine. An hour later "We regret to inform you..." An hour later it was over. the 4 months of waiting for absolutely nothing was over. "Excellent pool of candidates..." I wondered if that made me less excellent. "highly competitive and qualified..." Was I not qualified? I replayed my application over and over in my head and it sounded like it was mine. "Oh, it was national" says my father. Maybe I'm only qualified when it comes to Wisconsin, because the same thing happened to me at Regionals... Somewhere in America there is someone better equipped for your dream. "We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors" Well, what if I have no luck left? What if I'm not excellent enough? What if I'm not qualified enough? What if I'm not deserving enough? Then I look over my Journalism application. 120 spots. 120 qualified people out of a pool of who knows how many. My morning made me feel unqualified as if there was a slim chance I could possibly obtain anything I truly wanted. Then there's Beyonce and Jay-Z tickets everyone is raving about, but I'm in a stand still because I have **** I need to do. I have dreams that money actually can buy. So while everyone is raving about concert tickets, I'm at a standstill wondering how in the hell will I afford to make my dreams come true when Beyonce could've made them happen 100 times over and then some... Feeling unlucky, unwealthy, and under qualified Then a friend tells me "cast your anxiety upon the lord" Deep breath in. Exhale. Something greater is coming my way.
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