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Sabila Siddiqui Feb 2018
First love is innocent and pure. It is the first time your blood gushes to your cheek, making them blush. First time you feel you can’t-sleep-can’t-breathe-can’t-eat. First time you feel speechless but poetic. First time your heart feels it is going to beat itself out of your chest. First time when the words “I love you” send down a tingly feeling along your nerves. First time when you feel sleepless but exhilarated. First time you find yourself thinking about someone all day. First time you trust someone to protect your heart. First time you feel-so-much-you-get-scared. First time you let someone past your guards and in. First time when your day feels incomplete without talking to them and world incomplete without their presence. First time when every intricate memory and detail matters. First time your skin feels electrified when you stand next to them. First time you realize you can feel this way about another person.
The first person with whom you experience the waves of various shades of emotions. The first person you’re willing to give, give and give with no limits for too much never seems too much. The first person you are willing to surpass any boundaries for. The first person you love more than yourself. The first person you pour love and secrets too. The first person who made your smile widen. The first person who you imagine your present and future with. The last person you think about when you sleep and first one to wake up to. The first person who makes you feel the love in songs, books, and movie. The first person to make you aware of something deep in yourself. The first person who feels like the moonlight in the night sky and the sun in the day. The first person who you are willing to take interests in their interest and love what they love. The first one who loves all your insecurities and flaws into beauty.
Dusty McCool Mar 2015
That one person,
That one person that I can’t help but want to love
That one person that I can’t help but want to have for my own
That one person that I can’t help but want to see everyday
That one person that I can’t help but want to stare at all the time
That one person,
That one person will never be mine
That one person will never love me
That one person will never want to have me
That one person will never see me outside of school
That one person will never look at me for who I am besides what I am known for
But you will never love me the way I love you.
you see one person goes, no, no, no, let me tease you

you are a hooligan, and we wanna tease you

no no no, we want your money, we want your money

give me your money, give me your money

you see you are still a young dude, your not like your father

no no no, don’t do what you used to do

no no no, you are so easy to tease

i tod them, i am not easy to tease, i am a nice family person

i don’t believe in being horrible, so leave me alone, i am a person

no no no, your not like me, you are still getting teased, buddy

no no no, you are still getting teased

you see your mate is like us brian, your not like us, cause your easy to tease

no no no, your not like us, don’t do tapestries, because your still a young dude

young dudes don’t do tapestries, and you are still a young dude, buddy

i said, i like doing art and if that doesn’t make me a young dude, well i am not a young dude

be4cause i want to be an artist, i am an artist

i don’t want to be treated like a hooligan, or my brother

i am a family person

no no no, your not a family person, no no no your not a family person

then he grabbed some tucker from his fridge and ate it, saying brian is still a family person

and then said no, don’t be like us, no don’t, be like us, buddy

because you are still a young dude, buddy, and you are not like us, buddy

i said, leave me al;one, i am a family person, and i don’t want to constantly be treated like a young dude to a tease

no no no, don;t do what you used to do, no don’t, do what you used to do brian

actually, brian that is what you are meant to do, ya know woosey

no don’t do what you used to do, no don’t

i said i don’t want to be treated like a little young dude to a tease anymore

please leave me alone, and then he said, no no no, no don’t do what you used to do, no don’t

and every time i moved around, he would say that i was a fucken ******, and then said no don’t do what you used to do

cause your easy to tease, briany, your so easy to tease, no don’t do what you used to do, no don’t, buddy

your easy easy, easier to teazse, i said i am not easy to tease, leave me alone

and then he said, don’t say leave me alone, no don’t

i am a family person, not a target to tease, so leave me alone, ****

no no no, don’t speak up for yourself, be like us, no don’t do what ya used to do either, no don’t

i am not a hooligan and they say, yes you are your still a hooligan brian, be like us

i said, no, i want to be a family person, and he said, no don’t do what you used to do

this is going on forever in my mind, please let me get peace
A person is a person, but the difference between some people is that they have a kind heart. I know a person who has nothing but a kind heart, she is a kind person with a kind heart. She isnt like any of my other friends, she is much different. A person with a kind heart is always there for you, a person with a kind heart never gives up on a person no matter what. A person with a kind heart is like a sister, not a real sister but close enough to a sister. Someone with a kind heart is someone who you can totally trust. The person that I know who has a kind heart is the most trust worthy person I have ever known, and I always know that I can trust her with any secret. This person has a kind heart and i know that her heart will never change.
this poem is dedicated to my good friend Melody she has the kindest heart in the world.
unknown Jun 2015
Hang in there.
I know times are tough but that's okay, that's part of life.
I just want to let you know that I'm proud of you.
Proud of you for taking all the ******* and bearing with it.
Absorbing all the crap that life has given you and using it to become better.
You held on for so long that now, it's time to let go.
Let go. Let go of what hurts you, everything that once made you feel alive but came crashing down like the waves on high tide.
One thing to remember, never regret. Never regret loving someone just because they caused you pain. Remember that once, that person gave you a reason to smile or make you feel like you were the happiest person on Earth. That person made you feel love even if now, it barely means anything.
I remember you being so restless, so helpless because you didn't know what to do. That was 6 months ago when you thought everything was meant to be, when you thought that that person was the one for you.
Even if he wasn't, he's meant to be in your life for a reason.
It's a good thing you decided to give yourself space, because it's an ultimate test of friendship. You know that you can't live without this person, but maybe just not in that way.

You needed to start over.
Give yourself time, because in the end it will be worth it.
It will be worth it to wake up one day and feel okay again.
Yes, it's not bad to admit that you're hurting. Pain makes you human, so does love.
Obviously, you knew it was dangerous but you fell anyway. Not your fault, not a mistake. You had nothing to loose.

You had your pride.
But you learned how to swallow it for the person you were willing to fight tooth and nail for, even if you knew it wasn't worth it because they just didn't feel the same way.
Don't blame yourself for being confused. Being confused with the different kinds of love. Trying to find it in other people just so you can see if you could get over him.
Guess what? It didn't work, but again thats okay.
Yes, pain does make you loose your morals. It's inevitable and of course, it's also hard. It's hard to make the right decisions when you are blinded because you are so caught up in the feeling of being hurt.
But you know what?
You really kept it together. This might have been the most mature set of feelings you've had for a person. These feelings you knew were sure and real. These selfless feelings you've had because you knew you wanted another shot at the love that you wish you gave because in the past, you've received love and never gave it back.
You already know how important it is by now, and it's one thing to realize it and another to show it. You did both and you gave it a shot, even if in the end you didn't make it.

Dear self,
You deserve all the love that you have given.
All the love that you once gave to this special person who probably didn't deserve it as much. You gave so much love, but if you don't receive any you'll run out.
Maybe God is reserving you for the right person because He's waiting for the right time and place for it.
Thank you for knowing that, thank you for taking care of that person who has a special place in your heart even if it hurt so much. Thank you for not having bitter feelings like the past, for being more mature about everything. Also for accepting the fact that people will hurt you, even the ones you love, and even having the will to go on despite it.
You never gave up, you're not giving up on love. You're just wise to know when you've had enough.

Dear self,
*You are a fighter.
jesse packard Dec 2014
I see this person so full of cheer.
I see this person who ordered a beer.
I see this person with a beautiful smile.
I see this person who would walk a mile.
I see this person with two hearts to hold.
I see this person who can't stand the cold.
I see this person that looks at me.
I see this person with eyes of glee.
I see this person through thick and thin.
I see this person who wants to win.
I see this person I want to be.
I see this person I will never be.
I see my body in the mirror.
I see this person so full and bright.
I see this person in my bed at night.
I see him all the time, but sadly I can never be
Anna-Marie Rose Jun 2017
Thank you Eric for being my friend. YOu
Have taught me how it feels to be Have Real Love,
how it feels to have someone there for you
when you need them the most !you're taught me to love Jesus you taught me that people are all different and unique in their own ways and it's okay to love them just the way they are
with no judgement.
you've also taught me that being in love means you have to think about the other person before you think about yourself! for example you think about the things that you're lover wants and you get them those things. for you thinking  about what they want
Makes you happy
you tell me that people struggle but having people that trust you is very important because without having trust without having the ability to believe in someone fully you are nothing you're not worth anything and you are worthless as a person
you have to actually give your word and have it mean something in order for you to completely give yourself to the other person I trust you with my life you are my best friend you never give up on me
.
you never stay mad at me.
I know it's because you have Jesus! you are the reason I have more faith! The reason  I seek the Lord if it wasn't for you I probably would be dead!!! I have heard so many things about people saying that you are crazy maniac and that you would **** me in a heartbeat
You might hurt me
but you have never done that besides the words verbal abase.
But that's yours only defense
Against
Me because that's your only  way of hurting me and you know that it does that exactly you. But most the time I do deserve it Cuz im not the easiest person sometimes im stubborn and selfish and rude and ******.. And you put up with until you can't anymore then You (Man handle the situation and put me in my place ("slap in the face")  
* IM IN A REALITY CHECK .
I say sorry

Eric the amazing
Your so extremely
amazing, caring, selfless, worthy

You are a Angel that is Heaven sent a gift from God
you are a perfect example of what God meant when he said he would find me someone that would teach me how to be a better person. if I wanted to be that better person grab hold and stop messing around
Sto running.
I want to be a better person
you make me a better person!
I honestly am glad to call you my friend, my best friend, my lover, the love of my life and my guardian angel you might not ever read this but least I got it out in the open no lies just me telling it like it is!
A letter I might not ever send
manicsurvival Oct 2013
I've always said that I don't need perfection
I need affection
Someone needs to invalidate my insecurities
They sting me and I hide them deep beneath skin
So deep that no one can seek them or sense them or touch them
I often ask myself why I don't have an official companion
A person who can love me and give me affection and make me happy
It sounds stupid because a lover doesn't make one happy
But I feel like I've crossed out every other thing on the list
Introspection?
They tell me I need to understand what and why and how
However the mere fact that I have thousands of words depicting my every emotion
Should mitigate this false sense of intelligence that a therapist has
I don't need someone to bring me flowers
Or chocolates or stuffed animals
I don't need to be given the world because I can get that on my own
But I do need someone to hug me and kiss me the way you do...when we're alone
And then I need that same person to be able to effectively communicate with me
I need them to understand the notion and the implications of a relationship
And I need them to be fully committed to making me a better person
And me making them a better person
Because once all of that happens, all I'll need is for them to love me
Love me
The real me
The person who is blunt and blatantly obvious
The person who can capture a room with intelligence
The person who hates the evils in the world
The person who doesn't believe in god
The person who cares about other people but has trouble showing it
The person who works for everything
The person who has suffered enough
The person who wants to be loved by you
And in some sense
It's been established that you can't love me
Simply because you don't
And that's fine even though it pains me deeply
But if it can't be you
And you not caring for me is true
Someone needs to sweep me away and love me for me
Because I believe in human nature and I also believe in Darwinism
But when it comes to me
Human nature and Darwinism are contradictory
Because human nature would be the act of two people loving each other for the sake of loving each other and wanting to be together
But Darwinism says that my genes are too weak to compete in the gene pool
Therefore it is difficult for one to seek my affection
Because it subliminally implies that we're seeking "a mate"
And I wouldn't be a good mate
A) because I have a chronic illness
B) I'm batshit crazy
So I don't even know what to do at this point
Maybe I was designed as a solo
Rather than a duet
That happens
It's a possibility
A horrible one
But the most hurtful thing right now
Is the idea that you may not love me
And you never will
Pauline Morris Apr 2016
A person who wants nothing, never can be bought
A person who won't fight, never can be fought
A person who doesn't lie, never can be caught
A person who won't play the game, never can be used
A person who dosen't cheat, will always pay his dues
A persons who never thinks, can never have any views
A person who dosen't care what you think, will never leave you confused
A person who has nothing, they will never lose
Tell me dear friend, what kind of person are you
india Jan 2014
let me tell you something i’ve come to realize over the short span of my lifetime and every day relearn over and again. people are all the same. at the end of the day, when the doors are closed and lights turn off. we are all humans searching and wondering and messing up every second. it isn’t just this generation. it isn’t just you. humans have been doing it since the beginning and will keep doing it. it’s in our nature. we all are insecure and trying too hard to fit it. we do it as children. looking up to someone and trying to be like them. we get so caught up in worrying about other people’s thoughts about us. no one takes a moment to imagine the person next to them feels the exact same. we compare and contrast our skin tones and body sizes. trying to squeeze into a one size fits all mold. who told us that person you are trying to be is better than who you are. most of the time no one has to. we take it upon ourselves to pick out flaws. we cover it the best we can. hoping no one will look to close. we never let anyone in. we shut out any light that might show our mistakes. we are all afraid of not being wanted. so we pretend we don’t care at all. we are all hoping for someone to come charging in and break down every barrier. but with everyone waiting, nobody is doing. immobilized by fear of being rejected. we play it safe. anyone who is too comfortable in their own skin is labeled. annoying. obnoxious. vain. brash. egoistical. stuck up. only by jealously for those who have what we don’t. we are all running in this cycle that we can’t stop. wanting to be confident, hoping someone will show us our beauty, hating those who realize they are. we want, hope and hate. sometimes our whole lives. just like the deluded thought of ideal beauty, we have an ideal person. that person who’ve been waiting on to make everything better. well i have a news flash. you don’t have to wait for this person. no the very person who is going to change you into the masterpiece who’ve always wanted to be is here. they’ve been waiting a long time for you to realize it too. that ideal person is you. yes you could roll your eyes or shake your head in annoyance. but the only person who knows every wall you built up, every flaw you keep concealed is yourself. you’ve wrested with self-imagine too long now. it doesn’t matter if someone told you how beautiful you were every day. would you believe them. would you smile and brush it off. it wouldn’t matter how many people or how many times. if you don’t believe it yourself. don’t give up now and think it will never happen. it can and it will. with one nice thought about yourself at a time. one nice thought about others too. you will find happiness when others are happy. you can slowly show the things you’ve hidden away. it will be hard. but it’s a mountain you’re climbing and you’re reaching the top. don’t be afraid to smile at ones who don’t at you. surprisingly one day they might have the guts to smile back too. little by little you are taking down the walls and in the process others will start to notice. stay unfazed by the whispers or stares. people are always jealous by what they don’t have and you got it. you have something they don’t have. an ideal person. you have become your own.

*i.c.d
if you read this whole thing, bless you.
Ember Evanescent Nov 2014
POEM FOR IMALRIGHT
Dear Imalright
I discovered your poetry and LOVED all of it. I was struck by lots of what you wrote and it inspired to write this to you. I promise you I mean every word of it.
I read your poems:
Unexceptional
Unbeautiful
Anxiety at 3AM
Two sad teenagers
Relapse
Fifteen
Starving artist
2014
Nothing special
Rough Edges & a dorky face
Under eyes
I adored them and spent the better part of a full day, hours and hours combing through the verses, dissecting the poems, analyzing the words and fully appreciating your incredible work. I picked out my very favorite phrases or yours that I found particularly powerful and moving and responded to these lines. I wanted to start a challenge. (In fact I posted this challenge as a poem, you can find it on my page).
I thought it might be nice to do like a secret santa thingy on hellopoetry only not secret and not santa… what I mean is, find a random stranger you literally have never met and do NOT know at all whose poetry you like and spend actual time genuinely reading their work, picking out your favorite lines and responding to them, pondering them, etc. Write something positive to them and post it as a poem with their name in the title. The “DEAR BLANK” challenge only you put their name instead of “blank”. I think we could all use a little recognition that we exist and are worth something since everyone seems a little depressed on here (including myself) which is fine, it’s a great outlet but it would be nice for people to just spontaneously find that a random stranger spent time in their life just to recognize you and care about your poetry. To write a kind poem/letter to them responding to lines in their poetry. I just thought that you seemed like a wonderful poet and a wonderful person based on your poetry so I chose you, Imalright. So here it is:

Your head whispers these words that crawled onto the page:

We're the kind of people that fade into the background

that people forget are in the room.

-Imalright

I won’t say something that the rest of society seems to think fixes everything. I won’t tell you the typical: you are important to everyone, you are not just a faded part of the background, people do notice you etc. because those are empty words everyone uses and they people who are always pretty in the spotlight are always the ones to say it, so what do they really know about the background, forgotten, white-noise people like us?

I will tell you, instead, I know it hurts like hell to be forgotten. For your existence to go unnoticed. I know being a part of the background is never anyone’s first choice. I am a backdrop-dweller myself. I am the unnoticed girl who blends in with the shadows. There is nothing wrong with that.
Never forget that the starry night sky is a background too. You can still be wonderful without being the center of attention. You can still be wonderful even if you are a part of the background. I want you to know, I noticed your poetry. I noticed you, and your name, and your wonderful talent and I have spent my time dissection every poem you have posted because every single one of them, is a different shade of amazing. We are all backgrounds in someways but what we choose as our phone screen backgrounds tend to be pictures of what we love the best. Pictures of beautiful things. There is nothing unbeautiful about the background. So from one forgotten soul in a room to another, I your poetry was just another account in millions like the stars but you are one of the loveliest sections of this world’s background I have ever seen. Keep that in mind. 







I just wish that I was one of those beautiful things.

-Imalright

Once again, I won’t use a society phrase like: Everyone is special and beautiful in their own ways!! Because people don’t seem to get that no matter what they say, it doesn’t even matter if it is true, but if you tell someone who thinks they are not one of those beautiful things that they are beautiful They. Do. Not. Believe. You. It just doesn’t matter, it won’t change their mind, it doesn’t help and it doesn’t fix it. It just makes them feel like you are lying to them and then they feel vain and self-conscious about admitting to you that they don’t feel beautiful etc. etc. I’ve been there so I know.
So I won’t tell you that. But I will tell you a couple facts instead.

It is a fact, that there is ugly inside of every single person.
It is also a fact, that there is beauty inside every single person.
Because beauty is NOT a definable concept. It is different to every person depending what kind of lens they look through and let me tell you, physical beauty is artificial and even though I wish I could be physically attractive in my own eyes, I have come to accept and I hope you have too or will as well, that a deeper beauty than that is inner beauty. What you keep in the cracks and crevices you made yourself in your soul. I think you are beautiful. I the pages you’ve written on soaked with ink made out of your inner self is magnificent. Your way with words and your flow of thoughts, the way you look at life through an indigo-tinted-one-way-glass-lens, it is all a whispering sort of beauty. Like the soft ringing sound of raindrops skimming the window pane on a grey sky, storm cloudy day. That same sort of delicate loveliness. I think you are a very unique and exquisite color of beautiful unlike any other poet I’ve ever seen. I don’t know you, you don’t know me, we can’t label ourselves friends since I have never spoken to you, but friends are basically socially required to tell you that you are beautiful whereas strangers are bound by no such obligation, yet still I tell you, I find you a person with a beautiful soul. I have only ever seen your poetry, but that is enough for me to know you are a beautiful person. After all, poetry is really where our souls spill what they are truly composed of. If I were to judge your beauty by your face and actions, all those are altered by circumstances beyond our control, society standards and pressure etc. What you do does not define you. Your soul does, however. You are beautiful to me. 







I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED I JUST WANTS THINGS TO BE OKAY

-Imalright
A truthful scream of the heart that many have felt. It’s funny that we all have this same base desire that tends to reveal itself more and more the later at night it gets, and yet we all still suffer the feeling of being unloved and unokay alone and silently. I wish I could reach out and fix you because the pain of others that is out of my reach always pains me more than any kind of physical agony I could ever endure. I can’t fix you though, so instead I offer you the only thing I can, I am with you. As a friend, just another soul on the earth who has felt this feeling you express in this line. I reach out with the hands of my spirit and for your spirit. Maybe if you know that I too have felt unloved and unokay you can find comfort and strength in that. Because no matter what kind of darkness you face, literal or internal, I find being united with someone empathetic to you who knows how you feel makes it just a little less scary even if it is just a sliver of hope for even just a second. It is something and the idea of “hereness’ you know, like being “here” for you, being “with” you in that emotion is all I can offer and I just want you to know, I love everyone and everything until I am given a good reason not to. So in a way, even if not on a personal level (because I do not know you, so I can’t love you on a personal level the way a sister loves a sister or a best friend loves a best friend) just generally, you are loved by me, because I love your poetry and I love all things that haven’t given me reason not to. And do you know what? Even though it hurts and it is unfair, everyone has to be unokay for a little while. I have been too. Maybe you were unokay for longer than what could possibly be near just or humane or reasonable but you were strong enough to pull through. I applaud you for this and want you to know your strength in powering through your unokayness has been recognized and admired. By me. Because the warriors are the ones up at 3AM having anxiety attacks but never let it show and you are a warrior. I am proud to call you a fellow poet.




but being sad and lonely is worse than being sad.

-Imalright
I know what you mean by this line. It is sculpted so beautifully though. The words in the phrase are just so raw and honest. Not over romanticized, just plain relatable great poetry in its true form as it should be. Wonderful. I hope you have found refuge from loneliness or will find refuge from it soon in finding someone else’s heart to call your own and in your heart belonging to someone else.





A new scar for that comment that boy said.
A new scar for that friend that betrayed you.
A new scar for every word you swallow.

-Imalright
That boy has scars of his own and he thought it would make them fade if he cause you to have scars too. ***** him. The betrayal of a friend is a special kind of pain like being stabbed with a knife you made yourself. A pain I know too well and wish no one else knew. Let the scars heal and do not swallow words. You will choke pretty soon if you don’t. Keep in mind that you are worth more than scars. I think you are worth more than scars.






You don't know how bad things are.

-Imalright
First off, I love this line. Just so simple and yet so relatable. There is some beauty to that. Sort of like thorns on a rose stem. Although they can be piercing and ugly there is magnificence that goes along with it. To be 15 and not know how bad things are, you have the rest of your life to obsess over the bad things and how awful things really are. You have the rest of your earthly existence to be broken, so like a child’s smile, at least you had that one moment in your life when things weren’t shattered as far as you knew.





With nowhere to go but everywhere
-Imalright
What an extraordinary thought. Such a liberating idea. You have really inspired me with this one single phrase. Keep in mind, you can be so inspiring to people who don’t even know you (like me) just with your words. You really make such a difference in this world. I have decided after reading this line, I’m going to try and let a little bit of that philosophy into my life. Nowhere to go but anywhere.

And that hope is going to make me stop doing this to myself.

-Imalright
Well, I really hope so too. I hoped for hope to save me for way too long. Eventually you gotta find it in yourself because this world is a little short on Hope, its main export being Despair. Just know you are not alone in this. I wish Hope was something you could wrap and mail it to someone who needs it but I can’t hand you Hope. I cannot offer it to you physically but if it helps at all, if it creates Hope for you, I want you to know that I personally, desperately from the bottom of my heart hope to God, genuinely thinking of you individually as a person that you have healed or are healing or will heal through Hope. If that helps. I have been crumbling, but somehow, after a hell of a lot of anguish, I found Hope. You can too. If it doesn’t help then I offer you my hand spiritually and metaphorically. Stay hopeful, because in this world, that is all we have.






i'm nothing special
im not beautiful
i'm not gifted

-Imalright
I know I can’t change your mind the same way no one can change mine when it comes to how self-image and esteem, but I just wanted to tell you even if you don’t believe me, in my eyes and in my opinion, not saying this to be fake or just being nice. If it weren’t true I just wouldn’t bring it up or say anything about it but you are VERY special. …okay that doesn’t sound good that sounds like the kind of special people put in quotations like: oh, she’s um… you know, “special” alright…
What I meant was, you are special because your poetry has made a difference in my life. You insightful view into life, your precious unprecedented perspective on the world and how you perceive it is very special. I have already explained why I think you are beautiful internally and keep in mind there is no such thing as one type of physical beauty. It is all about opinion and to some person or some people out there, you ARE physically perfect. To them, your physical traits are their definition of beauty because beauty doesn’t have a size, a color or a shape. That is the beautiful thing about beauty. And you are gifted at poetry, that’s for **** sure. Your poems are absolutely toxically flawless I adore them and I really, really mean that. Your writing is close to my heart. That may come across rather creepy sorry about that haha :P but you need to know that you are gifted when it comes to beautiful words.






No one will make me believe that all of my flaws aren't wonderful.

-Imalright
Such a sensational thought and resolve. I really and truly admire and acknowledge your indescribable strength I wish I could achieve to not only accept but embrace your flaws. You are such a strong person and I want to thank you for being such an inspiration to me and the rest of the world, doing that and finding that truth within yourself that flaws are wonderful things.
wondering why i had shattered myself in the process of picking up someone else's pieces

-Imalright

Okay, before I say anything else… omfg wow holy mother of waffles. (That is not a very common expression but I am so struck by the priceless incredibleness of this line I can’t think straight. Also, waffles are good.) This is amazing… how do you come up with stuff like this???!! The imagery, the metaphor, the power of the phrase embedded in the words just… wow. Spectacular. God, I just really, REALLY hope with every ounce of my soul you find a way to repair yourself or someone to repair you because to lose yourself, saving someone else who was broken is so heroically tragic it breaks my heart because you are such a beautiful person.




Dear Imalright
I offer you Poet’s Love.
One poet to another.
I admire your work and your work is made out of little parts of you.
I admire you and your strength, your writing abilities and your outlook on life.
Never ever change.
I hope you find Hope.
Message me anytime should you need anything.
And I want to thank you for being such a strong inspiration to the race of people we call: Poets.
Love,
Ember Evanescent.
DEAR BLANK CHALLENGE
flynn Sep 2018
person feels a wave of heat through their neck and face when struck with a thought of their ex boyfriend. a ninth grader gives them a ***** look. person leans against a cold cinderblock wall and relaxes their face. focus on the empty space between the eyeballs and the brain. feel the limp arms and identify the beat of a pulse running through them. repeat after me: self care is boring.

paul laurence dunbar knows why the caged bird sings. he never wanted to be an elevator operator. it's a point of privilege. person asks a ninth grader if a bird could see the wind, the river, the sun. "oh... no..."

one thing person notices time and again is that when these students drop something they do not pick it up. they let someone else do it. where person is from it is not like that. students would not help person like that, they think.

person remembers one time, when they themselves were in the ninth grade, dropping their lunchbox in a crowded hallway and picking it up swiftly in the next step without slowing down. a tall boy behind them said "smooth". person felt proud at the time. person feels good remembering this.
lots of things have changed recently.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2016
the construction industry is filled with Englishmen... well, let's just say the management and bricklayers, and from i hear it's a ****** management, they think it's cheaper to loan a crane than to install one... as i heard, a typical construction site of has about 30 Englishmen tops, a construction site population of about 400... i might be exaggerating, but i heard it first hand, and i've seen it, well 10 years ago it was a bit different, but the cracks were already showing - how one Brit undermined another Brit, dehumanised one ethnicity using another's desperation / exaggeration of rewards: by lowering wages of the former's.

only a casual inference of the vote -
it's one thing pushing away the psychology
of the collective into the recesses of Hades -
even further into Tartarus -
well, you can see Tartarus from here -
the Titans are above us, Luna, and Helios,
Jupiter and Saturn and Mars - we rise
from this place, at least with faithful command
to whatever childish ambition -
psychology can shove collective psychology
of a populace into theory - that calm resolve
of reason, the unconscious and its archetypes -
but to concern oneself with passions,
that's also necessary - side with the "enemy"
to understand them, and then see past the fog...
in a fashion magazine... citation:
if we block free movement, and experienced
Polish or Bulgarian seamstresses cannot come
into the country, it is not obvious how they will
be replaced - "we couldn't have grown the business
without the help and support of these killed people,"
says designer *Christopher Raeburn
, who
wasn't able to find similarly experienced Brits
in London (pedantic note, the dittoing of that quote
should belong to me, i'm assuming direct contact
with the designer and the writer of the article,
ditto quotation starts with third party members,
people like me, not with the person interviewed
and the interviewee - i now understand how
dittoing works in English in terms of quoting
someone - in means as above, but by another person;
but i'm sure the quote was passed as word-of-mouth,
so the person who's first to pass a quote shouldn't
immediately use " " marks, he's not a third-person
encapsulation of a newspaper article, this isn't
a novel - simple math: origin (0, on an axis of
x, y, z), person who first encounters the origin-al
notes it with precision 'the sun will come up
tomorrow' - after that a person who encounters
'the sun will come up tomorrow' will then pass
the message down as: "the sun will come up tomorrow",
and then the dittoing cascade appears - the way
gossip spreads - it's not exact - it's ~truth -
people add to it, change it, overhear it and modulate
it - only the first person from the naked origin
should be allowed to ditto the quote - i.e. use
the " " marks - the second person directly citing
the origin makes a single layered membrane encapsulation -
after that it's a repeat of two layers, with the second
layer ably fluctuating, hence not loss of the origin
but a polymer of interpretations - Odysseus said of me:
'Homer' cited the 'Trojan war', we cite "Homer" and
the "Trojan war" as 'Odysseus' said, myth making in ambiguity
or the gossip factory, but given the sequence
0, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2... nth
a, 'a', "a", "a", "a", "a", "a", "a", "a", "a"... nth we all have a
chance to cite something from the third person,
after all, isn't fiction's limit based on the third person?
the pedant in me had to mule over this to get some
alcohol frenzy from it... and hey! i did).
it wasn't immigration to be honest, the racist smears
were a smokescreen... look at it this way...
the English Civil War... a friend of mine at university
once said: 'no great nation emerges without a civil war',
i could have written something in excess of that
but then i'd be writing as a third person " " inventing it
and almost treating it as my own, which is a no-go
zone - but from scraps you get the idea - go home,
things are about to get ugly between our civil partners...
and it doesn't boil down to wages as such,
Brits love the fact that Swedish students come to
the Norfolk fields for strawberry harvests, or whoever...
you know what i think it is? London urbanity got
to the vein of countryside folk, or Manchester being
overshadowed, actually globalisation ensured that
only capitals are "representative" of each nation
(inverse the dittoing, that's insinuating a passing-on
from an abstract, like Sartre's notation of "ego" meaning:
imitate me in between each "ego" with my narrative) -
they're not, but the golden nugget in my reasoning
is primarily concerned with You-Tube Sensations -
you name them: eat a tablespoon of cinnamon
and then sniff a ***** sneaker - film it, earn a billion -
become a unit of advertisement, sell it, bin it,
record your life, people binge on it, earn a windmill -
Vlog Blog Bog Sven and Fjoorn - remember when
children were employed in Victorian England?
this isn't between a Brit and a Bulgarian - this **** is
about a Brit and a Brit, hindsight: the English Civil war...
one Brit is saying, deep in the countryside:
you know what, there are people in urban environments
that teach their children that milk comes from
supermarkets and not cows, there's a borderline between
milking a cow and ******* on a part of a woman's
body overly sexed up - this has nothing to do with migration,
well, party it does, it want labourers to understand
a master, some ******* Bulgarian who speaks one
sentence of English gives about two nanoseconds trying
to understand authority - it's not demeaning to him,
he's told what to do, and off he goes and does it and
daydreams about his family reaping the benefits back home...
but employ someone proficient in the language,
who understands it, who has leisure time in it,
and you get a different picture dear Oliver - please sir,
can i have some more? no! back to work you filthy
little Beatnik! it's the self-worth pride, the self-sustaining
pride of nations - the people are saying: did we reduce
our youth to write video biography entries that only
tell other young people to buy the stuff they're advertising,
and all of them have become so fragile as to write poetry?!
well... better think again! minus the influx of migrants...
the doctor that relocated the upper-part of my index
was Hungarian... if it weren't for him... i'd probably have
to use a door to pull it back in...
and i understand what they're saying: i'm not racist... but...
my own countrymen have become so ******* lazy
i have to disguise my racism against other ethnic races...
because if i don't... it's back to Cromwell and the
Parliamentarians of the Square Table.
Aliya N Raissa Nov 2016
They said, there are 12 stages of falling in love;

The 1st stage, initial attraction – recognizing that, for whatever reason, you'd potentially like to be with this person.

The 2nd stage, investigation – finding out more about the person to evaluate whether they'd be right for you.

The 3rd stage, friendship – establishing friendly relations with the person in hopes of getting to know them better.

The 4th stage, envy – wishing that it was you that was spending more time with the person.

The 5th stage, embarrassment – being flustered around the person, trying to avoid them because you know they make you nervous.

The 6th stage, bravery – owning up to the fact that you are falling deeper and deeper for the person at hand.

The 7th stage, lust – becoming even more physically attracted to the person in the hopes of getting them in bed.

The 8th stage, hope – being convinced that there is a chance for you and waiting for the right time to take a shot.

The 9th stage, confession – admitting to the person that you have fallen completely head-over-heels for them.

The 10th stage, comfort – falling completely at ease with the person ; being able to tell them anything/do anything with them.

The 11th stage, planning – looking ahead to the future with the person.

The 12th stage, bliss – complete, utter and total happiness shared by the both of you.

Was it ever so true? That we can define love after we feel an internal affection, or a sudden burst of happiness every time we see that person, or feeling like we couldn't live without the person. Was it love? Tell me, what's even love? Does it happens from the chemistrical feeling that occurs to the body of both men and women? Or does it happens spontaneously without a reason? As if it were just like that? Tell me is love a lie that mankind made up or truly, a holy divine feeling that God created?
credit to the astrological account that publish the very beautiful 12 stages of love which inspire to question even more about love
Andre Baez Feb 2014
Khakis or dark slacks is the choice
What to wear to work... you just got an invoice
Tax collector is coming, so is the electric bill
Will power is driving you to build your skills

From 7am till 11 at night
The story you wrote that day
Is the same with every flight
The same storks flew the same blue sky
Likewise problems came on then went on by
The drive to do what needs to be done
It's hard for most people and easier for some
The teachings taken till now from when we were young
Is the beauty instilled to make sure we aren't dumb
Even if we are in love we leave ourselves bread crumbs
To leave the cusp one must make sure to lay off the drugs
It's those same drugs that lead to poor decisions
The repercussions often aren't witnessed
But in extreme cases may lead to double-digit
Sentences that run on to life in prison
Intelligence bound within the confines of the mind
The skull, the flesh, and the tomb of the heavenly kind
Is often privy to lapses of judgement with asylum signs
The definition of insanity is to do a thing and rewind
The same thing that was just done
It's the same wax wings melting in the sun
The sun needs to give us time to reach warmth
And maybe one day love won't seem like such a chore

It's the circumstances and resolve that shape a person
It's the issues and the tissues that change a person
It's the smoke and the lights that face the person
It's the script and the choice that **** the person

Moving so smoothly among a vast array of drones
Lies a young boy among the shattered block of homes
Church going child with respect for his elders
Doesn't know how poor he is living in his shelter
That's because the boy is rich in spirit
But most people don't even want to go near it
The reason is people are giving up their souls
Doing what they can to be the dog to get the bone
Definitions of "realness" is the deciding factor
If your actions, thoughts, and feelings aren't real, you're an actor
And if that acting's poor your life will be a disaster
That's why the rusting, green, pinky rings are the enactors
The bearers of the wealth are the leaders in arms
With this leadership they lead us into harm
The selfishness that they have is all consuming
Hoping to take us all in an astounding union

As blood spots darken against the golden shine of the sky
Gauze patches enter the scene as time seems to fly by
You begin to float as the clouds seem to slow down
Red trickles down your mouth to form a sad frown
From a crown wearing king to a pitifully clad clown
The echoes of silence continuously resound
Familial reactions begin and end with a pound
A pound from your heart at birth, at death the final pound
Seven pounds of sacrifice, buried six-feet under ground

It's the circumstances and resolve that shape a person
It's the issues and the tissues that change a person
It's the smoke and the lights that face the person
It's the script and the choice that **** the person

Oh boy, keep holding on
Young girl, keep holding strong
Oh boy, keep holding on
Young girl, keep holding strong

It's the circumstances and resolve that shape a person
It's the issues and the tissues that change a person
It's the smoke and the lights that face the person
It's the script and the choice that **** the person
It's the echoes of silence that continuously resound
Familial reactions begin and end with a pound
A pound from your heart at birth, at death the final pound
Seven pounds of sacrifice, buried six feet under ground
Pain-A-Full May 2016
“We fight to hold on and we fight to let go.”


Do you know why things don’t usually fall into the right places? It is because the moment we’ve realized we have to fix everything, we’ve already lost them. We always have the chance to regret at sunsets, all in the end.

Someone once said, “Not all people who wander are lost, they just find their way to their happy place.” What if you’re also someone’s happy place? If you already found yours, how could they find theirs?

We all have the right to love and wishing to be loved back by someone we love. Here’s to reality: there’s no assurance that you can get back the love you just gave. In different kinds of relationships, there’s always called one-sided love. We love people that could be our forever but it was just a “could be”. Life never tells us if that person will stay or leave. Hint? We should just live by the moment yet, one of those saddest moments could be reading a heartbreaking message and realize, you’re too late; There’s nothing that could fix this. Worse is, she is already mended by someone else.

We all have that one person: omit maybe our first love or whatever you call that, but what’s important is the person changed us in a way we never expected. A person we love in spite of all those flaws; the person we’re always proud of even if she’s not the perfect one in her class; a person that gives assurance that we’re happy when we are with her; the person you think first in the morning and last before going to bed and yet, is also the person that gave us pain and the reason we can’t move on. She used to be your forever that ended for months or your 11:11 wish that never came true. Forever as for my opinion only exists because you’re in state of being in love or happy but believe me, you’ll say it’s nothing when you are heartbroken.

Love is the drug; pain is the withdrawal as what I’ve heard. You should have fought for that one special person even if it’s the same person who told you to give up. Everything has the possibility to fade, even true love. We can prevent it by taking care of it, not by giving up. At first, let’s fight for the thing that makes us happy but if the things that makes us happy isn’t making us happy at all, we all have the choice to carry on or give up. We must know when to fight and when to let go.    

Pain could change a person even if not by one’s own choice, we just feel it especially in the way we treat others. There are different kinds of pain like the pain you felt when you tried to explain yet, she never believed in you; the pain you endured when she left; and the pain you endured seeing your treasure dug by another pirate.

Hatred because of pain is possible. We can always avoid that but there are circumstances- that all the good in you was ******-out by the people who hurt you. What’s worse is if you’re in the stage of severe depression, they should’ve help you cope with it but instead led you to a suicidal state. (It may be exaggerated but it is possible on how special those people are.) Never let hatred control you for it could hurt someone not only emotionally but also physically.

Feel the pain until it hurts no more. Even if you’re willing to get hurt over and over again to fix things, you’ll still get tired of being hurt knowing that you, who have done everything, don’t deserve this kind of pain, this kind of treatment. If you think you’ve done enough, let others be the judge. You actually didn’t lose them, they lost you. If you’ll lose yourself in the process, there would always be someone or some people like your true friends that will always put you back in the right path, all you have to do is find a little time, give yourself a break and continue life.

If you happen to lose a friend, just remember that not every friendship could last a lifetime but the pain of losing that person can. All you have to do is to deal with it. She will always be a lesson that we will carry throughout our journey. (More pain to come!)

We all have different choices in our life, as you chose to run and she chose to hide away until she never came back. We always have that good bye we never really meant to say. A good bye that could have been “Please go back, I’m waiting”, a “Let me have another chance” or a good bye that isn’t good at all.
a column for our school publication. I was drunk when I wrote it. excuse the grammar
When I was younger, I had this wild imagination that never stopped. I was constantly dreaming, constantly in a whole different world. This imagination was born out my hopeless desire for all things unrealistic and this burning determination to always be the best. See, if I was a princess for the day then you can bet I was the best **** princess around. No princess was nicer, more beautiful or more desperate for a prince than me.

And this imagination really helped me because inside my head, I’ve always felt lived all these different people. Now these people all look like me because they are me but all of them have polar opposite personalities. They all represent all the different personalities I have. And in this world I created they would all meet together and sit around a table at a tea party and talk and debate with each other. And this escape was crucial to my childhood because I was the kid who always failed personality tests. Now how this was possible, I wasn’t sure. I was always the last to finish them because each question was like its own test to me. One answer never applied because it was either all of the answers or none of them. When I finally submitted the test the results would always come up as “not available” or “try again.” And for so long, I wanted to know what personality type I was but I was never able to fit into these boxes that people had created. And when you’re in middle school, all you ever want to do is fit into this box. A box.

And I always had a hard time with the saying, “Be true to yourself!” Because I never understood which “self” they were talking about and I still don’t understand what that means actually.

But in my world, there were no personality types or “self-s” because all of my “me-s” got to be whoever they wanted to be. And there was no confusion or embarrassment or suppressing any of the people who lived inside me. And when I was meeting all the different people in my head I got to experience all the different aspects of me that when I was around people, I tried to hide because not all of them were “nice” and “polite.”

And while I got to know all these people, I realized that all of my stronger personalities were the rebellious, outspoken and not really “socially acceptable” ones. And during these encounters I realized that one was very ******. Now no one knows me as a “******” person or whatever that might mean. And my whole life I’ve struggled with trying to conceal this person inside me because I grew up in this environment that was scared of women sexuality. The church I grew up in, the youth group there had this, “*** outside of marriage will **** you” policy and only marriage *** is good *** and everything else is the devil and you will blow up if you have other ***. Now ironically, we had three girls in my youth group get pregnant that year which destroyed this perception of *** outside of marriage makes you blow up that I had, had. And it began this process of my really beginning to understand my sexuality, and not in the sense of like, feminist, claiming my body, I-can-do-whatever- I-want sexuality, but understanding what I liked and what I found attractive and really beginning to comprehend this personality that I never thought I was aloud to talk about. This environment that my youth group had created made me believe that I wasn’t aloud to have this personality, which was really hard for me because I thought, “well if this person is bad, then who else inside of me should I never show?”

And I began, “experimenting” I guess you could say—secretly—and I discovered at thirteen while I loved kissing boys that was all I liked. I remember the first time a guy wanted to do something more than kiss and I was utterly traumatized and confused. And while I loved one aspect of sexuality I realized that *** itself, absolutely repulsed me. Like the idea of seeing a boy naked terrorized me and thinking about being that vulnerable and open around another human being had no appeal to me whatsoever and it wasn’t until I was seventeen actually that the idea of *** actually had an appeal to it. Now I never told anyone this because I thought that this wasn’t normal at all and I wasn’t aloud to talk about it. I saw all these girls around me having *** and talking about it and I just sat there like a lost sheep trying to imagine it and wanting to curl into the fetal position.

And to this day, this idea of being so open about sexuality is so foreign to me. And along with discovering this, I also discovered that I loved being rebellious and taking a stand and “fighting for justice.” Now this was absolutely contrary to what I had been taught. I was taught to respect any authority figure no matter how dumb they were. And this concept was just mind boggling because while I had this intense need to please people and be the favorite, I also had this insane impulse to constantly question and debate authority. Which, this ended up being a game to me because I got so good at “respectfully” being a rebel—or a **** in my teachers eyes—that none of them could punish me but they would groan as I walked into the classroom. Now not being the favorite was a totally new concept to me that was introduced in high school, and I struggled for a long time with this idea that I couldn’t be this strong questioning person who couldn’t be concealed. I was constantly getting in debates with my mom or family members over “knowing your place as a teenager” which to me is the dumbest excuse for anything. Nothing ****** me off more than that saying because they act as if I’m less of a person with less of an opinion because I was a teenager. And this idea that this personality wasn’t aloud to be created one of the biggest internal conflicts I’ve ever experienced. Because while one person in me desired to please, this rebellious person was quickly taking over and I was testing out the “be true to yourself” philosophy.

For so long, I believed I shouldn’t have all these different personalities and I tired to tailor to the ones which people liked more while trying (and failing) to ignore the ones that people didn’t. And for so long, I believed that I was the only person with this problem and it wasn’t until way later in life that I realized that everyone has all these different personalities inside them. We are taught that we have to choose who we are and be “true to that self” when in reality, that is about as wrong as it gets. We are told to whom we are supposed to be true to without being given any room to test who we are and figure out which sides of us need to be let out. And don’t give each other the room to change everyday and to allow each person inside of us the room to breathe.

So my challenge is to be true to your imagination, because that’s where you get to discover all that’s inside you. And once you begin allowing yourself to be all the personalities that live inside you, you get to experience all the different aspects of life and this world that you need to. Hiding from these people inside you only makes them louder. So go on, give it a try.
men are singing in my head singing lyrics of tim minchin with me

you see they will play this music singing with me saying it is my body

and i live in it, it’s 7 parts  skin and 13 parts water and the men are

laughing with me saying it’s my body and i live in it

you see despite us partying and vomiting blood yeah

you see it is my body and it’s fine, ya see i fill it completely with wine

and i live in the dark side and every man was saying yeah your cool

just like this singer tim minchin, he is so radical, dude

i can have a dark side i can have a dark side, i can have a dark side

2 poofs and 300 virgins, well the men are probably saying to me, tim minchin sux

but i think tim min chin rules, dudes

i think that tim minchin is radically awesome dude, you see the men are singing tim minchin

with me, because i am still a family person, and it’s true i am a family person

i wrote a letter to yin din olin and he told me i was the worst person i have ever met

then the men said, tim minchin is cool man and i said, yeah he is

and this is my earth and i am proud of it

i walk around the earth picking up ***** off shoes

and then i use turpentine to squeeze all the hooligan out of me

but i know it’s hard oh it can be mighty hard, dad never became involved with my sports when i was a kid

he made it up to me as an adult, but i was always a pure cool family person, he didn’t understand me

i liked playing basketball, i liked playing ten pin bowling, it made me feel like cool guy

you see i feel comfortable with the men who like heavy metal or tim minchin like when

i listen to him all the men say to me ummmmm you are cool, ummmmmm you are cool

you are going to live in paradise, with a 10 ft **** and a few hundred virgins

i hate people who don’t give money to the poor, but i don’t want to call them ***** because

i always believe in hard work, even if it is hard work cleaning my brain out

you see we are sticking a ***** up ya **** while tim min chin is singing it, and of course we feel cool

i tim minchin, he reminds me of fun and games with the young dudes

you see i was looking for a way to bring that atmosphere back, and tim brings it to me

my dad doesn’t understand what kind of cool kid i was trying to be like

tim is singing the good book, the good book is the best song, i like tim minchin

i am writing my old body out of me, but i am a person not a robot

a person who likes tim minchin

you see i liked daddy, he was a nice person on the couch, but dad to me in the 80s was a couch daddy

but i had to yell at him to get him to treat me like a family person, ya see i was teasing dad when

i was saying i was a hooligan, just a tease don’t ya know

i was teasing dad when i said, i wanna stab ya in the back

because i wanted heavy medallists to be men for me, NOT DAD, well, back then anyway

because, i believed in being cool, and i got vibes from dad, he didn’t wanna be cool

so i hear all the men singing with me, each song tim sang

ya know each song he sang,

dads wasn’t perfect, but buddha said love thy father

because you only get one and when he goes

i was going completely crazy, listening to tim minchin’s really cool music

and the men are laughing and joking with me, as i listen to the great tim minchin

ya see, there was so much i never told dad, and now it’s too late

because all the ladies in the house come on let me hear ya say ayoh ayoh

all the fellas in the house RAIDERS SUX, RAIDERS SUX

all the conservos in the house say MONEY MONEY MONEY

all the poor people in the house say WHERE IS OUR FUCKEN LOOT YA ******’ ******

i like the bearded men talking to me when i listen to tim, because he is totally radical dude

i am not discussed by the time in the 90s where all my personalities split out of my bodies

so i can choose what personality i take with me, i love heavy metal, so i sing heavy metal with those nice australian men

you see i hear voices of people saying i am someone people hate, but i want to be someone people like

i don’t want to sing heavy metal with dad, his next life betty campbell, will be in a different generation to me

the fad generation was dads, not mine, and i sang a song

not a dime, i cannot pay my rent

i can barely make it through the week

it’s saturday night, and it’s PARTY night

and i can meet a girl

but i struggle to make my ends meet

i am listening to tim minchin every day

he is totally radical dude

i feel i am in a cranky mood, but really i am in a happy mood yeah

happy like brian allan, and i am not a loser who takes drugs to get me by

i have no problem with people who take drugs, just respect my view that i don’t like taking drugs

the raiders sux, because the bulldogs beat them 41 to 34, and the swans beat the hawks

the men are singing tim minchin with me like they sang heavy metal music

i don’t wanna be someone people hate, i wanna be liked for being the person, i want to be

not the person that dad wanted me to be, not the person that hooligans wanted me to be

respect me, i want to be a cool party dude who LOVES TIM MINCHIN, radical STUFF
Integrity: adherene to moral principles, honesty..and the quality or condition of being whole..undivided.

Cheating:  to deprive someone of something valuable by use of deceit.

         Most, if not all of us, need, and very much desire physical intimacy (yes, sx).  Can I say sx  on here? ...I'm not sure. Sx is like the greatest thing ever invented. It's right up there with eating and sleeping.  Everybody likes it..everybody wants it. But when someone is in an exclusive relationship with another, married or not, you don't get to have sx with whoever you want anymore. True, everyone makes mistakes sometimes, no one is perfect, and at times we are weak, for one reason or another. But an honorable man or woman...a person with integrity and inner discipline...recovers..and learns from the mistake...and doesn't repeat it.  That is not what cheaters do.  Cheaters are habitual. That means repeat offenders.  Cheaters talk about things like honor and will power and integrity, but they don't practice it in the place it counts the most, with their beloved.  With cheaters, it isn't about a "mistake".... a one time thing they feel horrible about afterward and promise themselves never to repeat.  Cheaters simply don't care. It's not that they don't care about the girlfriend/boyfriend, or fiance or spouse that they have made a promise of committment to. They do care...they just care more about themselves. It is the promise of faithfulness itself that is meaningless to them...it is simply empty of any real sincerity.  But the problem is that the promise is accepted by the loved one as sincere.  That promise is relied upon and as important as though it were tangible.  So irrespective of how much the cheater spits upon the promise everytime he or she cheats...that promise is HOLY.  Yes, that's right..HOLY.  What does that mean...holy?  Like church holy..or holy water holy?  How is a promise holy?  Well, really one could argue that any promise is holy, but how much more so when a person believes and loves and trusts another...putting all of their faith and future hope on a promise of real love and commitment.  That trust and love make the promise holy.  It is not the hollow promise itself, but that loving reliance upon the promise that creates the holiness...the pure beauty of love... and the faith that it is returned exclusively to the beloved.

          The true sadness is that the beloved will eventually find out about the cheater and then the house of cards will come tumbling down.  Not only is the relationship destroyed, but the trust, faith, and love is destroyed as well, and it may be difficult to ever trust again, in any relationship.  Such immense pain can be caused.  It is amazing that cheaters don't seem to care or think about the consequences of these indiscretions.  Do any of them think ahead of time about the people and/or god forbid, children that will be left lying in the wake of their utterly selfish acts?  The people that will be left trying to pick of the pieces of their hearts, and try to rationalize whether anything that they had believed in was actually real.

          The question is, what and who does the cheater value?? What does the cheater respect?  Do they even value their own selves?  Does a person who thinks nothing of cheating on a regular basis, or every chance they get on their loved one value and respect anything?  Clearly there is no respect for the promise made. There is no respect for the one whom the cheater purports to love.  There is no respect for the man or woman the cheater is doing the cheating with...because clearly that person is just being used to fulfill a carnal desire..and arguably the cheater doesn't even respect him or herself, because a person with an inner moral compass respects him or herself enough not to do things that will cause pain to others, especially those who love him or her.

          So maybe the cheater does not have any real understanding of what is holy..the meaning of a promise...an understanding of integrity...of sacrifice...of the pure beauty of love.  If a man or a woman is in a relationship and can't keep their **** legs closed...then that person has no business being in a relationship.  Its just that simple.  You can't have your cake and eat it too, and then want to eat someone else's cake as well.  If you are so selfish and deceitful that you can't be honest and faithful to the one you profess to love...then do that person a favor and either agree with them to have an open relationship, or let them go.  Because the act of cheating is entirely selfish in every way.  Cheaters want the security and benefits of an ongoing relationship with their significant other, and they want to mess around on the side as well because then they have the best of both worlds.

          But you don't have to go to church or believe in any particular religion to know that cheating is wrong.  It is a hurtful despicable act made even more vicious because it is intentional and hurts the person who loves the perpetrator.  How many crimes are like that?  ....the most heinous.

          So, if you are a cheater..don't ever talk about honor and integrity and code of conduct.  You have no right to utter those words.  Because when you live by  principles of ethical behavior, you don't pick and choose when to apply those principles.  You don't decide that they apply in some areas of your life, on some days, but not on others.  Think before you act..think about who will suffer from your actions...think about the destruction you will cause...do not believe that you can get away with it forever, because eventually the law of the universe will catch up to you.  There is retribution for every act in which we inflict pain on another...for every time we make a promise and then break it..whether anyone ever knows about it or not...just some food for thought
Person: Oh my god that person is sooo sooooo very very irritatinggg
Guide: Do you ever see yourself as like that irritating?
Person: Oh my god Nooooo www 😒
Guide: Ok

Person: That Person! That one there is Always So ANGRY!!!
Guide: Do you ever see yourself like that angry?
Person: Ey! I Am Never Angry!!!
Guide: Ok.

Person: That Person is confrontational all the time. Why? What the **** is wrong with them?
Guide: Do you ever see yourself like that confrontational?
Person: Oiii!! What you trying to ******* say???!!
Guide: Ok
Person: What do you mean OK???
Guide: nothing

Person who is a counsellor : I'm ok but no one ever asks me how I am.
Counsellor/ guide they see: And how do you feel about that?
Person who is a counsellor: Its like they don't notice.
Counsellor/guide they see: And how do you feel about that?
😁

Person: I wish I was like them so loving kind and caring.
Guide: Do you ever see yourself like that loving kind and caring?
Person: Oh so lovely of you to ask. I wish I was. Anyway how are you today?
Guide: Smiles 😊👍✨
Ok.
I am a nice person
I don’t want to fight
I am a nice person
I am not getting bullied
I am too nice to be a bad guy
I am a nice person
Yes I am
I hear about all the fights
They have in football
And I think it is ****** disgraceful
You see there is this poor Down syndrome man getting bashed at the football
It is totally disgraceful mate oh yes it is
I am a nice person
I don’t put up with that
Cause I am too nice to be like these
Rotten people
You see I am not a hooligan
I am not a ****
I am a nice person
And mate do I love life
You see I don’t tease people at the football I find it is a waste of time
I am a nice person
All of the time
I vote for the political party
That wants to help the poor
I watch family vlogs as opposed
To watching real life crime
Anything that upsets me
I don’t watch
Cause I am a nice person
All of the time
The women love me
Because I am so nice
I don’t believe in violence mate
It isn’t very cool
I am a nice person
I break no rules
Sometimes I swear
But not all the time
Cause I am nice to everyone I meet
Nice nice nice nice very very nice
I go to my art groups
And I do my art
Getting all of my problems
Out of my brain
Cause I am a nice person
Yes I am
I certainly don’t want to fight
Cause I am nice
Yenson Oct 2018
Criminal Gang Stalking

Definition:

The crimes committed through gang stalking an individual are covertly done, hence little in evidence is left behind of the crime, and the target is left with little in the way of resources to defend him or herself.

Isolation, through disrupting socio-familial ties in an intense slander campaign, is usually achieved once the actual stalking begins.

A pervasive slandering campaign takes place, projecting the target as an unstable individual, child molester, a person with hidden dark secrets, or a person prone to psychopathic behavior.

The criminals planning a gang stalking endeavor study the target long before the stalking begins. Psychological profiling is done, and this is to assist in the overall campaign that includes intense psychological harassments and demoralizations. Tactics used go well beyond fear, demoralization and psychological harassment.

The tactics used have been the protocol in campaigns against common people implemented by the KGB in Soviet Russia, Nazis of **** Germany, and the KKK in the early to middle of last century in America.

The accumulation of all the tactics and events in this dangerously hurtful organized crime against an innocent human being can led to trauma and will emotionally bankrupt the targeted individual, and may lead to death, as suicide is often induced through the assaults. The perpetrators of gang stalking are serious criminals who do great damage, and the acts done are very serious crimes by any measure.

Gang Stalking is a highly criminal campaign, one directed at a target individual, and one that aims to destroy an innocent person’s life through covert harassments, malicious slander and carefully crafted and executed psychological assaults.

Gang Stalking deprives the targeted individual of their basic constitutional rights and destroys their freedom, setting a stage for the destruction of a person, socially, mental and physical, through a ceaseless assault that pervades all areas of a person’s life.

What drives such campaigns may be revenge for whistle blowing, or for highly critical individuals, as outspoken people have become targets. Other reasons why a person may become a target individual for stalking: ex-spouse revenge, criminal hate campaigns, politics, and racism.

Gang Stalking may be part of a larger phenomena that may have loose threads that extent into a number of differing entities, such as government, military, and large corporations, though it is certain that organized crime is one of gang’s stalking primary sources, or origins.

The goals of Gang Stalking are many. To cause the target to appear unstable mentally is one, and this is achieved through a carefully detailed assault using advanced psychological harassment techniques, and a variety of other tactics that are the usual protocol for gang stalking, such as street theater, mobbing, pervasive petty disrespecting.

Targets experience the following :

A total invasion of privacy
Pervasive and horrific slander
Isolation through alienation that is caused by the slander. 4.Destruction of, or alienation from all things that the target holds dear.
Ground Work: A discrediting campaign is initiated long before the target is actually stalked. They, the criminal perpetrators, twist and fabricate reality through such a campaign, displaying lies that paint the target as a child molester, a person with hidden dark secrets, an highly unstable individual who may be a threat to society, a *******, or a longtime drug user, etc.

The slandering or discrediting campaign sets the stage for the target to become alienated in just about every social-familial- work environment, once the actual stalking begins. This slandering campaign is instrumental in eliminating all resource and avenue of defense for the target, before the actual stalking begins.

This stage is one that sees people close to the target, family, friends, neighbors, and co-workers recruited by the perpetrator criminals, who will pose as law enforcement officials, private investigators, or a groups of concerned citizens.

The Gang Stalking is aimed at achieving one or all of the follow:

induced suicide
financial devastation
homelessness
institutionalization in psyche wards
Once actual Stalking begins: The target will endure a vast array of tactics: gas lighting, street theater, drugging, gassings, scent harassment, mobbing, subtle but frequent destruction of property, killing of pets

Psychological profiling will be done so as to initiate an intense psychological harassment assault. Staged happenings and planned or directed conversations will take place around the target in public or places of work, and serves not only to undermine the targets psychology, but also may be used to cause the target to thinking that he or she is under investigation for horrific crimes.

Stalkers will have studied the target to such a level that they know and can predict the person’s behavior. Again, often the target will think that they are being investigated for crimes that would be absurd for the target to have actually committed. Not knowing what actually is happening, the target is isolated and lives through a never ending living nightmare.

Once the target finds out that they are a target individual for gang stalking, or multi stalking, they may have some relief, but from what I have read, the stalking simply changes dimensions a bit, and continues.

Identifying the exact people who initiated gang stalking campaigns is difficult, or near impossible, and this makes it very difficult for people researching this phenomena to discover, in certainty, the roots and genealogy of the crime. Investigation of a “Gang Stalking” crime would require a great deal of resources, and intensity similar to ****** investigations.
WHAT THEY DON'T WANT YOU TO KNOW....THIS IS THE TRUTH.

Background information, please read 'Where Is Justice' by same author on this site.
This horrendous situation is happening in our Great civilised Nation,
SS Jun 2013
Buddha (may or may noy have-its controversial) once said, “Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.”  I am a strong believer in this statement.  For as long as I can remember, I have never been able to hold a grudge.  The longest timeframe that I have ever been upset with a person was twenty hours.  I counted back the hours because at the time, I realized that the anger was not worth it.  Being angered by people’s thoughts and actions is a frustrating thing, and in my opinion is not worth any of the stress. Anger is a poison to the body, and causes more stress and pain to yourself than to the person you are upset with.  As a relatively positive person, I have managed to stay as happy and grateful as I can no matter the circumstance. However, I was not always this way.
As a toddler I would get easily frustrated with the smallest things. When I would get upset I would begin having labored breaths, and my chest would tighten.  Sweat would begin beading down my face, and my little fists would contract and expand periodically.  The smallest things could set me off, such as not being able to listen to my own cassettes in the car on the way home from church, or rainy days when I would want to play outside.  Bed times and naps made me want to pull my hair out.  Controlled and healthy snack alternatives would make me zip my lips tight and had me throwing away the imaginary key to the lock that secured my lips against the unnaturally orange carrots.
On a different note, my grandfather on my mothers’ side was my babysitter/partner in crime/best friend as a child and he could bake the best sugar cookies on the planet.  I kid you not.  I always loved having them, and whenever I spent the day with my grandfather, we had to bake sugar cookies.  Days spent with him were always good days, and I loved listening to his stories he would make up about grand princesses and strong princes in far off lands.  My grandfather had been diagnosed with a severe form of diabetes and had several heart attacks and seizures as I was a child, and he was told to stay away from all unhealthy snacks and things with high sugary content.  My mother soon turned into a mother bear and would carefully watch over my grandfathers’ diet, because she was frightened she would lose her father.  As a child, I did not understand their conversations fully and never realized that my grandfather stopped baking and eating snacks because he was not allowed to eat these things.  I would throw the biggest tantrums for his cookies, and generally he would give into my constant bickering and give in to his cravings for sugar.  We would bake, and in the end my mother was always upset with my grandfather for eating sugar, and I was told that sugar was bad for Poppy (that was my nickname for him).  I did not understand how sugar could be bad at that age, because it tasted so good.  I constantly craved the way that the cookies practically melted in my mouth after being taken out of the oven.  I did not mind a temporarily scorched tongue if it meant getting my grubby hands onto those cookies as soon as I could.
One Sunday evening, Mommy and Daddy had a church meeting to attend to after the main service, so Poppy was in charge of me for the evening.  He took me home, and was asked to take care of me for the day.  I begged, screamed, twisted, and shouted for the heavenly cookies that I had not had in what seemed like ages to my childish mind, but Poppy did not budge.  “The answer was, is, and will forever remain to be no, pumpkin.” He calmly spoke to me. I could not wrap my mind around the fact that my Poppy had said no to the cookies.  I remember my chest beginning to feel tight, the labored breathing, and the light headedness that came afterwards as if it was yesterday.  Hot tears streamed down my chubby face, my bottom chin popped out, and my lower lip accentuated until I had a full on pout formed.  ‘No’ just was not in my vocabulary, at least not for that day.  I became so upset with my Poppy and my chest began to hurt so badly that I could not bear to see his face any longer.  I shouted at the top of my lungs, “I HATE YOU!”  I ran up my stairs and locked myself in my room for the remainder of the day and did not bother to come out until the next morning. That next morning my mom received a phone call at 7 AM.  My poppy had gotten a heart attack at about 6:20 that morning and was pronounced dead at the hospital at 6:54 AM.  Help was not reached in time to heal him.
The last thing I said to my poppy was that I hated him.  I will always remember that.  The fury I felt over something as trivial as cookies makes me so frustrated with myself, because in the end I only upset myself more.  Being angry with people does not hurt them nearly as much as it hurts you.  People are not always out looking for intentional ways to upset you, and in fact most humans nowadays only seek acceptance from others.  Whenever I am upset with someone, I always try and look through their eyes to see where they are coming from and what made them do such a thing to upset me.  The girl who called me a mean name? She had been abused at home and the only way she could uplift herself was by putting others down.  The boy who did not like me in the seventh grade?  His mother walked out on him as a child, and he has not trusted women since.  People constantly think that the only opinion that is right is their own, and if someone upsets them that person should disappear forever and feel incredibly horrible about upsetting you.  In reality, we should try to realize why they are thinking the way that they do.  Being upset with a person does you no good.  Forgiveness is always the answer, because you may not realize it at the time, but people generally get upset over the most trivial things that they will not remember anything about twenty years from now.  The anger you feel for a person is not nearly as strong as the anger they had for you when they did whatever it is they did to upset you.  
Anger poisons your body and never makes the other person feel any less sympathetic about what they did.  It only makes you worry more about the past things that you can do nothing about.   “Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.”  It has been twelve years since my Poppy passed away, and no matter who actually said it, I am still a strong believer in that statement.
This isn't really a poem.  I just needed to let this out somewhere.  Thank you for reading, who ever you are.
Gabi Jun 2013
You're not the same person I met,
a year or so ago at that party.
You're not the same person I knew,
when we wondered all night around the city.
You're not the same person I fell in love with,
when we learnt of all the little details about each other.
You're not the same person whose heart I broke,
with my indecision of a future.

I'm not the same person you met,
with my defences up even stronger now.
I'm not the same person you knew,
when I used to laugh and smile at everything you did.
I'm not the same person you fell in love with,
my heart is colder and more bitter than ever before.
And I am not the same person whose heart you broke,
when you gave your love to someone else.
It's corny, but deal with it.
Willow Jul 2018
I am the person who you go to when you need advice.
I am the person you go to when you need a hug.
I am the person you go to if you need an excuse.
I am the person you go to if you need help.
I am the person you go to if you feel depressed.
I am the person to go to when you need a friend.
I am the person who is always listening to what you are saying.
I am the person who helps you no matter what but when I need that, no one is there for me.
So, when I say that no one else is going to be there for you but yourself, I am telling the truth.
mf Dec 2015
sadness is an anchor.
it anchors you to the past in which memories circle you, mock you, hurt you.
it anchors you to your bed because it feels so hard to face the day.
it anchors you to the idea of the person you thought you knew, making you wonder if anything was even real.
it anchors you to the broken world that you've built with that person; it's destroyed and you sit in the broken remains in despair.
it anchors you to the thoughts of that person, how the person is doing, if the person prefer the new person better than you, if they are doing the same things, if the person is thinking about you.
it anchors you to the fear that nothing will ever get better, that you might not be able to live because you forgot life before the person.
it anchors you to the uncertainty of the future because you've planned so much but with the inclusion of that person and now you're lost.
it anchors you to your broken dreams, surrounded by the shattered pieces.
it anchors you to the piercing words that person said, things you never imagined them capable of saying.
it anchors you to the ghost of that person.

but never forget that even the strongest anchors are lifted once the ship is ready to move. you'll be ready one day.
EmilyTheNymph Jan 2018
one person is created, coming to life
one person is working, another is playing
and yet the storm goes on.

one person is thinking, worrying for the future
one person is smiling, another is crying
and yet the storm goes on.

a girl sits at a window, while a boy sits behind a door
one is weeping, one is peaceful
and yet the storm goes on.

one person is sleeping, darkness surrounds them
one person is healing, another is hurting
and yet the storm goes on.

a person dies, and a person lives.
a person works, and a person smiles.
no matter what, the storm will always go on.
Frankie Gestone Mar 2013
He woke up in a rapid sweat, darkness surrounding him, his soaked pillow was pressing up on his neck as he could feel the uncomfortable stabbing cold run right threw his whole body. His mouth was dry and his body was in great pain. He lay there practically naked, but not just physically, also emotionally. It was like a catatonic state where the person’s body is paused in reality, but the actual person is far away and isolated even from himself. He wondered why he was so comfortable being uncomfortable and remaining frozen in time.  He saw nothing but the subtle moonlight that peaked through the blinds of his window. A point of existence, he feels nothing because all he has ever felt has drowned him. His numbness was being accepted and he embraced that if he remained this way, he would never have to feel hurt or heartbreak again. It’s better this way, he confirmed.

Eventually he got up out of his bed, walked outside to a nearby empty field. He looked up at the infinite night sky and contemplated the moon, the stars, and the endless space that sustained all of its existence. A tear fell down his cheek as he remembered the beautiful wonder of life and the universe; his realization that he is just a small spec of dust compared to all that is and all that is wonderful. Whatever happened to that universal happiness he used to feel? The feelings of the unseen, the cosmos, the mysteries that remain unsolved were all love. He then felt ancient and brand new at the same time-always being around all that is, but recently born into the unknown. The silence of the night swarmed him, and he suddenly embraced all the things he could not accept. The lullaby of the wind put him to sleep.

When he awoke, it was twilight. The sky was a lighter, deep blue and the sun in the far distance was rising in a fiery halo of mixed red, orange, and yellow colors, and the early morning clouds were clear and transparent. He heard the sound of a train horn in the far distance. He followed the sound with his ears as the sound became slightly louder and louder. Then, suddenly he could see the light of the early morning train.

The train had stopped as he approached it, and he hopped on with no hesitation or looking back. This runaway train was going to take him to where he needs to be, and he blindly and faithfully accepted that his fate was out of his hands now. No more heartbreak, no more reminders of the past, and most importantly no more drowning in his tears. As the train proceeded to move forward, he could feel fresh air gently touch his face, and all that he saw and ever knew were now flashing lights disappearing into eternity.

It was hours into the late morning when the train made its first stop. He listened to the train conductor speak out over the intercom, almost incoherently, say, “This is Brightstone Park. Next stop will be Riverhead.” A nostalgic feeling suddenly came over him as he could remember that his very first kiss was in Brightstone Park with Jessica Garzi. That was not his first true love, but his very first heartbreak. Riverhead was a forbidden memory, as he knew a classmate who had committed suicide off the Riverhead Bridge. He had not returned there in five years because of his haunting memories that would always come back to remind him just how cold and frightening the world really is.

While lost in thought, he felt a rough, sand paper-like wet feeling on his forearm. He looked down and it was a black cat, but not all black. The paws were all white like socks, and the chest and stomach were snow white. The loud prominent purr was a very peculiar reminder of a cat he once owned. Her name was Midnight. She was not the friendliest cat to strangers, but she loved him, especially when he massaged her paws. This cat was practically identical to Midnight. Midnight was put down three years ago though. As he began petting the cat’s back, it ran away and jumped off the moving train. He looked out in a hurry, but it was gone. It was just like everything else he loved. There for one moment, then gone the next. The strange thought that has one wondering if anything had actually existed that is now no more. A person, or a thing, could mean everything to you, but once they slip away, they become like the wind: occasionally brushing up against you, but never revealing its form.

On the train he began to wonder how he got where he was, and in general how the smallest decisions he made lead to bigger events and all in all, everything was all connected. There are no isolated events, or isolated people- it is all proven fact and science. Everything depends on each other to survive. The trees depend on the sun to keep themselves alive; we give off carbon dioxide to the trees and in return, we receive the oxygen we need from the leaves of the trees. He thought about the potential of a seed-for example, a tomato seed. Within that tiny seed is unlimited potential of life: The seed may produce one plant of several tomatoes, and within all those tomatoes are countless other seeds. This is all from one seed. Then, one may take a couple of seeds from a picked tomato and plant them throughout the yard creating a garden. That original seed came from another tomato seed inside a tomato on a plant, and that seed came from another seed. When did this cycle of reproduction begin and when does it end? Is it just another form of the infinite? When a person eats a tomato from that original seed, he receives certain essential vitamins his body needs for surviving and sustaining good health. This good health will effect his offspring and so on and so on. When he defecates, that will all return to the earth for potential fertilizer used for other tomato seeds. This is the same when he returns to the earth again. His dust will fertilize the same world that he came from, for all things come from it just to inevitably return to it.

He continued to think about how matter is never created nor destroyed and the same for energy. Nothing ever truly dies; the form changes into something new, like how water becomes a cloud and the cloud becomes water. Though this comforted him, he noticed that a few feet away from him was a former coworker and friend, Natasha Karev. She always infatuated him and they became close friends, but he always wished it had continued and gone even further than it did. One night, only a couple of years ago, they were at a friend’s party. Both were drinking, but not so heavily. That night they bonded and got so close, that she admitted she loved him. He was never quite sure how real that “I love you” was, but it was burned inside his heart ever since. That night there were moments she would tell him how much she wanted to make love to another guy at the party, Kevin, but was afraid to approach him. She told him she desperately wanted to lose her virginity that night to somebody because she was eighteen and only getting older. This was like a sharp knife slowly penetrating into his heart. He remained speechless for quite a few minutes. Finally he decided to go up in a bedroom alone. To his surprise, she followed him up and kissed him. He felt her clothed body up and down, and she touched areas not many have touched before. She told him she wanted to have *** and that she wanted him to rob her of her virginity. He was speechless, but extremely excited. Then, abruptly, she told him she could not because everything was happening way too soon. Why couldn’t she just make up her mind? He sat frustrated in the darkness, again, all alone. After that night, they spoke and remained close, yet that night was never mentioned again. It was as if it had never happened. After about two years of an on and off friendship, they just went their own ways. There were no fights or disagreements. Life just separated them.

“You’re just a figment inside somebody’s dream. So far from reality, you are a dream within a dream within a dream.” Startled by this soft voice, he quickly turned around to see Natasha smiling at him. “Ha-ha! I knew I could scare you. Were you abused as a kid, or something?” No words could come out at that moment, but he hugged her tightly. She explained to him that she is getting off at the next stop to meet a friend. He was sure he wanted to follow her and see where life would take him. She reminisced and told him how she had been away inside her own cave for several months, but is now very happy to meet up with everyone she had lost contact with.

The next stop arrived, but he did not catch the name of the stop he was getting off. As he got off with several others, both he and Natasha met up with her friend, Valeria, who he found quite cute. She resembled Natasha a bit in that they both had ***** blonde hair and blue eyes. They walked right into a giant street fair with a crowd of people looking at the foods and desserts, the trendy clothes, cheap jewelry, and children play rides.

As he looked around, he began seeing many familiar faces. He saw Kevin, a childhood and grammar school mate there with another co-worker of his, Jenny. Jenny was a Colombian beauty in his eyes and who was a flirt and tease to him, but never actually gave him any time alone. Incidentally, he knew both of them at different times in his life and had no idea they knew of each other. Kevin stopped contacting him during high school without any arguments or disloyalties that would tear a friendship apart. Keeping his head down, he walked a few feet to discover another childhood best friend, Jack, who was with a mutual childhood friend, Melanie. Melanie was a best friend of his and also a first childhood crush who also had a crush on him. He thought it was odd because even though Melanie and Jack were also best friends, Melanie never liked Jack in a special boy/girl way. He felt a moment of heartbreak, but quickly turned away and kept walking. A little further up the road, he saw two more childhood friends, Chris and Jimmy, who as children did not get along that well and only hung out with each other in the company of him. How peculiar it was suddenly seeing them together after ten years, and as seemingly best of friends.

That was not all. Things were getting stranger and stranger. It was like all the people who had made an imprint on his life were now coming together around him. He saw his two therapists, one he had gone to as a teenager and the other as a young adult, stand next to each other selling prescription drug samples. Both stared at him with a blank face, but with a prominent smile. He could barely nod at them. Natasha directed them to a local bar. Inside the bar was huge and also had a second floor. He noticed the music playing in the background was, Nocturne In E Flat Major, Op.9 No.2, by Polish born Romantic composer, Frederic Chopin. He became fixated on the elegant eighth note, left hand arpeggios, and the sweet and peaceful fast moving seven, eleven, twenty, and twenty-two notes from the right hand. If he thought about the most beautiful song ever written and all that is wonderful in one, this was the song.

They all took a seat and began looking at people and laughing at their behavior. Everyone was wearing masks. Social masks. They observed how different people act when they are in social gatherings, and how if you carefully study their body language, it will become clear that what they are saying and trying to put out is not what is actually being expressed through the body. One young man was frantically shaking his right leg as he tried to flirt confidently with a young woman he had just recently met. His face began to turn noticeably red, in an embarrassed flush, and he was making sudden hand gestures and quick eye blinking. She, on the other hand, pretended to be interested in what he was saying; yet her eyes would often look around the room and her body was a good distance from him with her arms folded.

Then as they were all laughing, he abruptly stopped and looked ahead to see two drunken women making out two tables away from them. As his eyes focused in on them, he realized they were two of his former crushes, Claire and Veronica, who he had no idea knew of each other because in fact, they were from different time periods of his life. He began seeing former teachers and professors from each stage of his school career, laughing hysterically with one another. Some of his most inspiring teachers and professors were gathered with other teachers and professors he despised. A young, tattooed hipster woman entered the scenery with a little Cairn Terrier that had an uncanny resemblance to his recently passed dog, Petey, who was put to sleep when he was away on a vacation, unexpectedly. His sorrow began to overwhelm him for not being able to say good-bye and see him for a proper last time. Everything about the dog’s high energy, playfulness, and watchdog attitude was exactly like Petey. A tear ran and fell off his cheek from his left eye right into the hand of Natasha. He looked up at her and she said, “Your tears are my tears. For what pain you withhold, I take and share with you.” She then wiped her right eye with the hand that held his tear. Natasha’s friend began to speak slowly into his left ear in Russian. Though he could not understand a word she was saying, it sounded just like a poem based on the pattern and rhythm’s consistency. It made him feel free of melancholy, but then thought of Angela Antonaci entered his mind.

He thought that the last painful experience ended with the break up of his closest best friend ever to play a part in his life. She was his girlfriend for the last three and a half years. They had known each other for ten years before they broke up their entire relationship. She was thirteen and he was fifteen when they first met in a park. She was always all over him like a little schoolgirl and he would often get frustrated with her obsession over him, for he believed he was no big deal. She was the first person to ever make him feel special and important, and even though he would resent her likeness towards him, he could never keep his eyes off of her or stop himself from always coming to her when he felt lonely. After about seven years, he realized he was in love with her. He had always been in love with her from the first time they met eyes. His long road had always lead back to her home in life. Every time he tried forgetting her and moving on, they would meet again. That person people search their entire lives for, he had found.

He rose out of his seat and briefly said goodbye to Natasha and her friend and went upstairs. He wanted time to be alone and walk around until he suddenly saw Jessica walking towards him. He stopped and waited for her to say hello, but she walked right by him, as if he had never existed. He felt a little insulted, yet relieved as any awkwardness that would arise was avoided. Looking ahead, he saw Angela’s two best friends, Kate and Julie, with her high school crush, John. John was playing an acoustic guitar on a lounge chair, singing to the two friends, almost enticing them with his eyes and voice. His jealousy overcame him, as Angela had been infatuated with him on and off even though he had played with her feelings throughout high school and college. John would tell her he loved her and make her believe he was a romantic, then when she fell into his words, he would leave her and keep a distance for long periods of time, leaving her in despair.

The conclusion occurred to him that maybe she was nearby. He searched throughout the entire bar not finding any other clues that she was around. When he went downstairs, he saw Natasha and her friend asleep, as well as most of the bar, except for the bartender. It was like everyone just passed out from the alcohol or possibly inhaled some type of knockout drug. The bartender was watching the news forecast of a tornado watch and dangerous thunderstorms. The bartender looked at him and said, “It’s better if you stay in here. It’s dangerous out there. I recommend you don’t go out!” He just listened, but decided to leave to the outside anyway.

He walked three blocks through the heavy rain and strong winds. He took a moment to stop and look at the black and gray clouds above him. As he looked across the street, he saw her. She was with her mother, sister, and mutual friends of theirs, Chrystal and Mike. He also saw behind them, his own mother and sister. He ran across the street to her and she shockingly with excitement screamed, “Hey!!! Oh my God!! Please stay with us. I missed you so much. You have no idea. We have to get to a shelter away from this storm. Hold my hand…” Smiling, he kept walking with them. They walked for twenty minutes and entered a giant field. After ten minutes of walking restlessly through the field, they all stopped to catch their breath. Angela’s mom ordered everyone to hold one another’s hand. An enormous gust of wind pushed them all to the grassy ground. He began to shake violently as he felt the touch of death nearby. He wondered if this would be the end, as he felt unaccomplished and left with so much left unsaid to her. Thoughts raced through his mind like a speeding highway about how to get to safety. Unable to control and remain focused on one rational thought at a time, he blacked out for a minute.

Then there he was right in the middle of a storm. In so many ways, he realized where he was ending was where he originally began. All the imprints from all he ever knew came back all at once to watch him finally leave all he ever knew from this life. And in the last moments, he found himself with her. He held her hand, while she held his, and the hands of their family and friends. The world was so dark and cold. The wind became much more rapid and an enormous bright light from it came within just miles of them. He kept looking up at the dark black and gray clouds over them, never as frightened as he was now. His focus was on the great strength of the wind. Whatever melancholic thoughts he had of his life, he would not give up hope. Maybe he was just hopelessly hopeful, but holding each other tightly might, in some miraculous way, save them. Then suddenly a deep peace began to sustain his very being. He remembered whose hand he was holding- the only woman to ever understand every level of his being. He looked down at her big, precious eyes pouring out tears. Their eyes locked, as she had been watching him the entire time. No words needed to be said from one another. They knew exactly what they felt and meant. For the first time in his life, everything was all okay. All was beautiful. The whole situation was beautiful, not tragic. In that moment, he understood this was where he was meant to be. This was where he wanted to be, for only in such a life altering moment does one comprehend the very nature of love and life. To just glance into her eyes and see the same person staring back in suspense, while all he ever knew was being born, growing, and dying simultaneously in complete acceptance. They began to fade and disappeared into the light.
samasati Nov 2012
I believe in smiling at strangers. I believe in saying hello. I believe in shyness. I believe in fear of rejection. I believe in the need of affection. I believe in the need of reminders. I believe in candles, especially those that smell of vanilla or christmas. I believe in wearing small crystals around my neck. I believe in energetic vibrations. I believe in colours - I think each person has their own colour. I believe every feeling is valid. I believe in chapstick and I believe in mascara that doesn’t clump. I believe in nail polish - every colour of nail polish. I believe that the only reason we lie is because we fear something. I believe in poetry. I believe in bluntness. I believe in the intention behind words, but I don’t necessarily believe in words. I believe in travel. I believe in travelling solo. In fact, I believe in travelling so much that it is pretty much all I want to do. I believe in music. Boy, do I believe in music. I believe any kind of musical composition can change a person. I believe music can cure depression. I also believe music can feed depression. I believe a melody can say more than lyrics and I believe that lyrics can be what someone couldn’t put together themselves to explain exactly how they are feeling. I believe anyone can create a song, even though they believe they cannot. I believe a single note can sound like the most beautiful sound in the world. I believe if someone records a song when they’re in an ugly mood, the ugliness emits to its listeners and can drain them. I believe in art. Of course I do. I believe in acrylic paint. I believe in oil paint and watercolours, but not as much as I believe in acrylic. I believe in fingerprinting. I even believe in painting with your toes. And I believe in dancing; even if it looks weird. I believe in flailing your arms even, as long as it feels good and right. I believe in dancing ‘til you sweat, though I don’t like that icky feeling too much. I believe that a babe can be a very ugly person and a physically unattractive person can be a very beautiful person. I believe that people who smile are beautiful. I believe that people who frown are beautiful too, just in a different way. I believe that there are sincere smiles and there are manipulative smiles. I believe that some people just know how to use their eyes well. I believe in eye contact. I believe in engaging. I believe in listening and dropping everything else that is going on in your mind just to listen to what a person is trying to share with you. I believe in sharing - sharing cookies and sharing love. I believe in the frosty cold. I believe that it doesn’t have to feel as cold as it really is. I believe that people complain a lot. I believe that people often have too much pride to be happy. I believe that we should embrace our discomforts and shames, that we should welcome them wholeheartedly so that we can be happy. I believe in honesty. I believe in empathy. I believe in tea. I believe in jelly donuts but only on certain occasions. I believe in quirky bow ties. I believe in knit toques and mittens and scarves. I believe in dresses. I believe in flirting. I believe in coffee in the morning. I believe in big comfy beds. I believe in walking around your empty house in your underwear or birthday suit, singing loudly. I believe in singing in the shower. I believe in singing on the street. I believe in stage fright. I believe in meditation, though I don’t really strictly set times to do it anymore. I believe mundane activities can be done in a meditative state of mind. I believe in clarity. I believe in not judging people because everyone is human. I believe every human has something very interesting about them. I believe in boring people too. I believe in christmas music - not the radio kind, the choral kind. I believe in cheap sweet wine. I believe in Billy Joel and I believe in The Beatles. I believe in Regina and Sufjan too. I believe that the ukulele is a very overrated instrument. I believe in having healthy hair. I believe in moisturizer. I believe in getting to pick a coloured toothbrush at the dentist. I believe in thick wool socks. I believe in baggy sweaters. I believe in yoga gear but I do not believe in sweatpants. I believe that yoga is one of the healthiest things for a person - ever. I believe in buying a friend drinks or dinner once in awhile. I believe in collecting shoes and scarves and rings. I believe in chords but I don’t really believe in jeans. I believe in hot chocolate with whip cream but not with marshmallows. I believe in dorky Christmas sweaters. I believe in baking cookies instead of cake. I believe in eating disorders - I do not support them, but I do believe they are much more severe and various than most people think and I believe there should be better/proper help for those who suffer instead of the usual cruel inpatient/outpatient care. I believe in trichotillomania and I believe in dermatillomania and the severity and impact it can have on its sufferers. I believe in gardens. I believe in every single flower. I believe that everyone is always doing their best. I believe that most people love to struggle. I believe in hope. I believe in having faith in yourself. I believe in iPod playlists. I believe in gym memberships in the winter, not the summer unless it’s to swim. I believe in matching underwear every day. I believe in Value Village. I believe in singing in bus shelters when you’re waiting for the bus. I believe in dressing up according to holidays. I believe in Grey’s Anatomy and I believe in Community. I believe in skirts and dresses that twirl like the ‘ol days. I believe in longboards more than skateboards. I believe in plaid like most young people do. I believe in bows in my hair, but not as much as I used to. I believe in foot massages and hand massages. I believe in reflexology and reiki and essential oils and chakras and crystals and holistic nutrition. I believe in anxiety; even crippling anxiety. I believe in awkward romances. I do not believe in flip flops. I do not believe in Beatles covers unless they are really insanely good; then my mind is blown. I believe in having long enough nails to scratch someone’s back appropriately. I also believe in biting nails. I do not believe in telephone calls unless I am extremely comfortable with the person. I believe in blogs. I believe in journals. I believe in naming special inanimate objects like journals, instruments, technology and furniture. I believe in the idea of cats more than I believe in cats. I believe in sharpies or thin pointed permanent markers. I believe in temporary tattoos. I believe in streaming movies online. I believe in royal gala apples. I believe in avocados. I believe in rice cakes. I believe in popcorn. I believe in airports but I hate the LA airport. I believe in openly talking about *** but I don’t believe in making it seem shameful and gross. I believe there should be no shame regarding sexuality. I believe in reading some great books more than once. I believe in laying on the couch under cozy blankets, watching a great suspenseful tv show or movie. I only believe in having a couple bites of cheesecake. I don’t really believe in lulu lemon. I don’t believe many people can pull off the colour yellow. I believe in buttons over zippers even though zippers are easier, they just look kind of dumb and cheap. I believe in the sun and the moon equally. I believe in closets over dressers. I believe in staring out the window for a good hour or so.
Shyanna Aubin Aug 2018
There was a time were there was a girl who wanted things but couldn't explain why. She was confused and depressed all the time and her body kept changing. Her parents never excepted who she has decided to become, so when she grew up it was hard to tell others who she now is. I am that girl. I wanted everything.
As I continue to grow up I learn new things. I have gone through so many different changes that sometimes I get very confused. I have been in many different relationships and most have not been healthy. There were a few different relationships that were good but I messed up by leaving. But there is only one person I can actually say I would get back with. He was the first person I can actually say was the first ZI ever loved and I know if he ever asked me back out I would leave the person I was with for him.
I'm in a program because apparently im too much to handle for my parents. Sometimes I feel neglected but i know i'm not. There are alot of people that are there for me even if it's not my parents. I am a very bubbly person. It hurts me ever more than a normal person will hurt when I get upset because depression makes everything worse than a normal person might feel. I say might because who really know what or how others feel. Somedays I wish I wasn't alive but then I think there would be no way anyone can see the world without them in it because what if the world didn't exist.
My relationships are always complicated because I get bored because I ****** up the onr relationship with someone that wasn't that bad. I listen to what other people were telling me instead of following what my heart wants. I think to myself what if I didn't break up with that person. Would my life be different if he was in it but as my boyfriend. Would I stay home with my mom and got my **** together sooner than I did. I just wonder if he still thought of me. I know he was a big part of my life when i was with him. I miss it. I miss being able to hug and hold him. I miss him in general.
But who cares about me anymore, not many. I'm usually on my own looking far into my future trying to piece the past together. Removing small parts of my past I want to forget but can't because I have been through so much there isn't much I can just forget. My past formed me into the person I am today and for that I can't forget my past. I like who I am today even if others don't. At Least I can see how much I have changed and made myself into a better person.
When I think of my past, i think off everything I have suffered and it hurts. But I have to do things the way I do or ill panic. Im very weird I bite. When some asks to fight me I growl at them and show my teeth. I'm not normal. Im literally like an animal. I do weird things. But I also am a very creative person when it comes to things. I have a good heart. Even tho I might do some strange crap here and there. I have done bad things but made up for them in the end.
I know i'm not the best but I do try my hardest. I just struggle knowing I have been in and out of programs since I was twelve. It's hard mainly growing up in places away from your family and that's where the depression and the bad behavior started. I have recognized that I started to act up and get all depressed when my dad and mom split up. I have struggled accepting the fact that they “will never ever ever get back together” yes I just quoted the taylor swift song lyrics. It upsets me but hey its life and you can't change the past but you can move toward the future.
When my parents split up my mom got with this guy that I hated with all my heart. And yes hate is a strong word but I hated him. He tried to replace my father and I didnt like that very much. My dad meant everything to me when I was younger and he still does to this day. After I started getting close to moms new boyfriend he did the unexpected. He went to take me out for ice cream down the street when it was dark out.
There was this shortcut in the woods and when we were halfway down the hill in the woods he pushed me down took off my pants and started touching me in places I didn't want touched. I started crying but he didnt stop. Then he put his head between my legs and started to eat me out and I was only 9 years old I didn't want that. I just was scared and I was too small to push him off. When I got home I was to scared to tell my because he told me not to and if you didn't listen to what you were told you'd get punished and after what he already did I was scared of what he would do again. Every day for a week he would go in my room late at night and touch me. But I was glad it was me and not my little sister so I put up with it.
Not long after he started to hit me and my little brother. One day he kicked my little brother in the back and slammed his head on the floor that was the day I took a chance grabbed a broom and whipped my moms boyfriend in the head. But it was just enough for my brother to get away but I was the next target. But that's not all that's just thes start. He put bruises all over my body but at least he stopped sexually touching me. That's all I cared about was keeping my siblings safe.
But even through those times my mom didn't do anything she let him hit us but she was scared too. One day he even pulled my little sister through a window because she punched my little brother I was so scared I ran upstairs to my neighbors house and told them and my neighbors boyfriend came to the rescue. A few months after he knelt on my chest I couldn't breathe but that was the one time my mom told him to get the ******* me. But once he got off me i ran outside in shorts and a tanktop and I ran to school with just socks on my feet and it was the middle of winter. That was the day my school called my dad and said that if he didnt come pick me up then with my siblings we were going to get taken away so my dad came and got us.
Few months after my 11th birthday my dad had a friend watch me when I was home sick. Everyone trusted him but then he molested me. I was sick but I took my blanket and ran to the bathroom and locked the door and waited for my dad to come home and I told my dad what happened and my dad freaked out. But christmas eve I told my mom and after that my mom took me home with her new boyfriend and never let me back to dads after that but I snook to see my dad after that because I didn't want to live with mom at all I didn't trust it after he last boyfriend. But can you blame me.
(twas where aye met thee missus, but mooch as a natural euphoria experienced, i rarely returned to said venue, especially for many years when thy now na grown lovely lasses merely toddlers).
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Go ahead and AskJeeves (or another available partner yea, that lonely looking gal or guy in mom genes), who can never refuse to kick up heals in this rollicking shenanigan – the rumor holds that said activity the most fun one can have with being clothed to another.
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The caller will usually do a walk thru, which begins with the first two couples closest to the stage crew of lively musicians (frequently filling the makeshift hall with music aligned the genre of irish jigs and reels) beginning to pair off.
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After couples one and two (nearest the band) complete their quartet, this process (sans participants coupling off) continues until the foot of the line.
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Actually each duo of dancers within the foursome nearest or furthest from the podium dons the role of “first and second” couple respectively.
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The walk thru can be helpful, especially for those unfamiliar with this social activity, which encroaches on the ordinary comfort zones because eye contact plus physical hand to hand fusion necessary.
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Many of the routines utilize various combinations of approximately a couple dozen unique moves, where each distinct extemporaneously choreographed fancy footwork utilizes a unique variation of such movements.
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The most frequent array of moves comprises the following terms, which I located at hyperlink - www.theyken.net/don/PDF/Glossary.pdf
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Glossary of Contra Dance Figures:
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Allemande Left - Two dancers join left hands about shoulder height with elbows bent down and walk a circular path.
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Allemande, Mirror - Two couples, facing, starting with one couple going between the other couple. Give the person you are starting to pass your most convenient hand, right for two dancers and left for the other two, and turn as described in the allemande right and left.
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Allemande Right - Two dancers join right hands about shoulder height with elbows bent down and walk a circular path.
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Balance – The simplest balance is a step forward and backs. Another type of balance is a step on your right foot and swing your left foot over your right foot and then step on your left foot and swing your right foot over your left foot.
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Balance and Swing - Face other dancer, take both hands, balance (as above) and swing the other dancer.
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Baskets - More that two dancers, step in so all the dancers are in a very tight circle, place your hands behind the backs of the dancers next to you and join hands. Put your right foot in closer to the center of the circle and start to turn this basket by pushing with your left foot (like in a buzz step swing).
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Box the Gnat - Partners (usually) join right hands, raise joined hands above the woman’s head, she walks under the joined hands, as the man walks around behind her. The dancers not only change positions but they end facing in the opposite direction.
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Cast Down – The dancer faces up and turns away from the center of the set and walks down the outside of the set.
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Cast Off, Assisted - Two dancers, facing the same direction, put an arm around the other dancers waist, one dancer moves forward while the other dancer moves backwards.
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Cast Off, Unassisted - One dancer, usually moving up the center or up the outside of the set, walks around an other dancer until they stand next to that dance facing the same direction.
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Cast Up – The dancer faces down and turns away from the center of the set and walks up the outside of the set.
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Circle Left – More than two dancers join hands and form a circle. Hands are joined at a height somewhere between you waist and shoulders. Dancers walk around in a circle to the left or counter- clockwise.
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Circle Right – More than two dancers join hands and form a circle. Hands are joined at a height somewhere between you waist and shoulders. Dancers walk around in a circle to the right or clockwise.
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Contra Corners - This figure is done in proper sets. The first couple turns each other by the right hand until they can turn their first corner, The person who was standing on the left side of your partner. The first couple then turns their first corners by the left hand, until they see the partners. The first couple again turn each other by the right hand and then turn their second corners, the person who was standing on the right side of your partner, by the left hand.
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Courtesy Turn – Two dancers with right hands joined and left hands joined, about waist height, facing the same direction, woman on the man’s right. The woman walks forward while the man backs-up until they are facing the opposite direction.
Cross-Over or Pass Thru – Two-dancer walk by each other passing right shoulders.
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Cross-Over is usually across the set. While Pass Thru is usually up and down the set.
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Do-Si-Do – Two dancers walk forward pass each other right shoulders, pass behind the other dancer, and backup, passing left shoulders into the place where you started.
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Do-Si-Do, Left Shoulder (also known as a See Saw) - Two dancers walk forward pass each other left shoulders, pass behind the other dancer, and backup, passing right shoulders into the place where you started.
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Do-Si-Do, Mirror - Two couples, facing, starting with one couple going between the other couple. Then dance a do-si-do, the two dancers who pass right shoulders dancing right shoulder do-si-do the other two dancers who pass left shoulders dance a left shoulder do-si-do.
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Down the Center, Turn Alone – Two dancers, usually a couple, walk down the center of the set, turn toward each other and return to the place where they started.
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Down the Center, Turn As a Couple – Two dancers, usually a couple, walk down the center of the set.
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Turn as a couple, the woman walks forward as the man backs up, until the couple is facing back in the direction they came from. Then return to a place across the set from where they started.
Figure of Eight – Two consecutive Half Figures of Eight (see below)
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Forward and Back – Dancers join hands with the dancer next to them and move forward four steps and back four steps.
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Gate and Post - Two dancers facing in the same direction, join most convenient hands, right to left, keep hands about shoulder height, one dancer will walk forward in a circular path as the other dancer walks backward in a circular path.
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Grand Chain - Three or more woman, make a right hand star, and turn the star until you meet the third (or designated) man, join left hands with the man and courtesy turn.
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Grand Right and Left - Two dancers, join right hands, pull by and give left hands to the next dancer, pull by, and continue this until you meet the person you are told to meet or until the caller tells you to stop. Can be used in squares, contras, and circles.
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Gypsy - a couple, walk once around each other, clockwise, and end where they started while looking wistfully into each others ' eyes.
Half Figure of Eight – Two dancers across from each other, in a contra, cross over while moving through the couple below (or above), the woman in the lead, they then cast up (down) to end in their partners original place.
Hey for Four – Two couples, facing, usually starting with the women moving to the center and passing right, then pass the opposite man who is moving forward by the left, the two men pass right in the center while the two women do a small loop to the left to face in, again the women pass right in the center as men do a small loop to the left to face in, women pass the men by the left, men pass right in the center and all return to original place.
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Honor - Bow to your partner.
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Improper – In a contra, when a man is in the women’s line and/or a woman is in the Mens' line. The women’s line is the line on the left when viewed from the caller’s position.
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Ladies Chain – Two couples facing, the women join right hands and pull by each other, then give their left hands to the opposite man, finishing with a courtesy turn to face the other couple.
Lead Through - Two dancers facing in the same direction, join most convenient hands, right to left, and walk between the two dancers they are facing. Often followed by a cast to original place.
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Pass Thru - Two couples facing, both couples walk forward, passing the person you are facing by the right shoulder and ending in their place (do not turn around).
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Promenade – A couple, with the man’s right arm around the woman’s waist and her right hand in his right hand, and left hands joined in front of them, move in a forward direction, sometimes ending with a courtesy turn.
Promenade, Single File - All of the dancers in a single file or circle, facing the same direction, follow the dancer in front of you.
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Proper – In a contra, the men are in the mens' line and the woman are in the women’s line. The mens line is the line on the right when viewed from the caller’s position
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Right and Left – Two couples, take right hands with the person across the set and pull by, on the opposite side of the set courtesy turn the person next to you.
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Roll Away - A couple, both facing in the same direction, woman’s left hand in the man’s right hand, the man assists the woman, who rolls across in front of him, as he moves to his right. They both end facing the same direction as they started but they are in each others' place
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Star, Left Hand – Two couples, take left hands with the person diagonally across, then they all walk forward in a circular path.
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Star, Right Hand – Two couples, take right hands with the person diagonally across, then they all walk forward in a circular path.
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Swing – A couple, in a position similar to ballroom position, except the man and woman are right hip to right hip. The simplest descriptions I have heard is assume the above position and then try to walk behind your partner. The dancers can use a simple walking step or a buzz step.
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Turn - See allemande for right and left hand turn. A two hand turn - two dancers, facing, take the other dancers right hand in your left and their left hand in your right. Pull back slightly and both dancers walk clockwise until you get back to where you started.

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