"reacts" poems
There are five widely known senses.
Sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste.
We've got some minor ones as well, such as balance, temperature and many more.
However, people fail to realise that there's also the sixth major sense. Thoughts themselves.
If we look closely, all these five senses have the same base. Specified cells in eye react to energy of light, cells of ear recieve energy in form of air's vibrations, skin cells pick up energy of mechanical changes, and so tasting and hearing depend on translation of certain substances' chemical energy.
These cells in different organs differ in their structure and the way they appear, however, if we stop looking at them in such small scale, we can see that ALL of the cells or organs responsible for any sense translate the energy.
So, a light enters the eye, certain wavelenght of certain energy stimulates the eye's rod or cone cells with a certain intensity. Then the energy of light is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of sight.
If it comes to smell, a certain particle enters the nose, binds to a smell receptor cell, and the chemical energy of this particle is, again, translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of smell.
Now, let's move to the crucial part. The sense of thoughts.
During the creation of thought, pathways in our brain that collect memories(and many more known or unknown pathways) connect. First, there's this spark of electricity, that moves all along the neuron and releases a dose of neurotransmitters(amount of different NTs is equiavlent to strength of this spark, basically resulting in "creating" various thoughts).
Then, chemical energy of NEUROTRANSMITTER is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which happens in the brain, creating the sensation of thought.
Therefore the 'sense of thoughts' reacts to and is stimulated by neurotransmitters themselves, with receptors on neurons' membrane being receptors of the stimulus. So, kind of like smell, the stimulus is chemical, compared to sight, where it's electromagnetic wave; anyways the result in all of these is electric impulse in neurons (hence the idea of "thoughts" as a sense, due to the same basic layout; transfer of energy).
The 'smell particle' connects to receptor and is translated to a certain amount of neurotransmitters/certain strenght of neuronal impulse. SO, again, we can see that when the first outer layer of this communication is cut off, we're left only with the neurotransmitters and impulses themselves. Anyway, the transduction of energy remains.
If it comes to "sense of thoughts" the receptor lies within us, whereas in sight or smell or touch it's external. However, does it matter if it's on the surface of skin or under it if it all comes down to neurons of our brain?
When you lie in a dark, silent room, without any external stimuli, you still retain your thoughts, colorful, vivid or complex. All the magic of the brain - still happens. So, how isn't it a separate, full-fledged sense?
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 6:49 AM UTC
Smack
After every slap
And stroke.
the whip,
cracks across your back.
Flush with arousal,
Immense pleasure,
your body reacts.
your lesson reaching you
teaching you how to relax
As your legs spread,
your mind relapses.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC
Sports have rules
Down to every little detail
Zoned in and ready to go
You do this and this happens
There are memorized plays
Your mind reacts automatically
Rules
Every game has them
I'm good at body control
Now, controlling my emotions
That's a different story
I wish life was as easy as sports
In life, theres endless possibilities
You do this and you have no idea what happens
Baseball, volleyball, and hockey
I can play all day long
Life
I'm sick of it already
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 11:05 PM UTC
Well before you know anything else about him,
I'm so happy right now, with my eyes filled upto brim,
Well yeah, it's about a special friend of mine,
Call him a friend, a daddy or a birdie, all are fine.
He's a down to Earth person, with no time to even show it!
Yet people call my birdie, insensitive!
I don't know what do they want to say,
And why as negative they want him to be portrayed.
He's not weird, just unique,
He's not being selective,just doing something for himself for the first time,
You can't call him Selfish.
He's not you, He's not me,
He's better support than us, you'll see!
He's an awesome person, with his awesomeness obscure,
That doesn't make him insecure!
He's no good around people you say,
But in reality, He's the same around all..
He's not fake, expressions he doesn't feel like he doesn't know how to make.
He's just too good the way he reacts,
'cause there's just one way he acts,
That's same,
And no adjective I know,
Could complete his name...
I call him a dad as of yet,
So that such an independent person of humanity,
I don't forget.
**Dad, Please stay
Stay my
Dad **
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 8:24 PM UTC
Dark hair tied back.
Blue eyes pointed front and center.
Tats two on her back and shoulder
Black stocking satin strap.
Knee-high; hard to measure.
High - heels they just climb forever.
Spread thighs hypnotized his eyes.
Deep breath watching her chest rise
Wide eyes she looks posterized,
long strokes that disappear deep inside.
Deeper sighs I can feel the vibes,
nail marks across his chest,
blood dried just follow the X.
Move slow make her want it more,
said wise speaking from experience.
Handcuffed cause she likes to be a deviant.
Lips sealed, around his **** like she’s practicing keeping secrets.
Hair tied back cause that’s how Sir told her to keep it.
Legs wrapped around his waist, at a right angle, so Sir can reach it.
open wide like Simon says, She reacts so, Sir doesn’t have to repeat it.
Firm grip on her waistline, but there is no wasting time.
Twitching hips, tighten his grips, as she whines,
in joy of the loving being deployed.
Toes curled the pleasure can’t be denied.
Slip slide the more she moves the harder he grinds,
smooth ride the way their bodies coincide.
Deep ****** they combust, as they collide,
come inside her, like a gentleman,
he gives her, a piece of his mine.
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 3:17 PM UTC
Different than anything ever experienced, it’s ecstasy.
Her body reacts to his, vibes on the same frequency.
Gyrating their bodies-- her breath hot and breathing heavily.
Her eyes fixed on his, lips, each kiss placed perfectly.
penetrating deeply, pleasure loves company.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
i’ve always loved the way the sunflower looked at the sun, like it was mesmerized by the beauty of the sun.
Apollo, the sun god always flew east to west; he was loved by all including a water nyphm, clytie. She was immensely in love with the sun god, she would watch him with unblinking eyes as he moved across the sky. But Apollo didn’t return his love for Cytie instead, he was in love with someone else, but unfortunately the girl didn’t also return her love for the sun god. He tried to forcefully convince Daphne, she asked her father to help her and she was turned into a plant. Apollo was deprived. Cytie, on the other hand—still looks at Apollo as he passed through the sky. She looked at him for nine days with no food nor drinks. Eventually, her hair turned golden like the sunflower’s petals, her face as the center, her body as the stem. She became the sunflower.
you have always been my sun, and i will always be your sunflower.
i will always look upon you and will never forget the way my body reacts everytime i see you. I will be Cytie, even when you get tired of me, even if you find someone, I will never get tired of you—being in love with you.
You are my sun, I am your sunflower.
Apollo Didn’t fell for Cytie,
But my Sun fell for me.
We made history.
Jun 4, 2018
Jun 4, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC
What begs a Sonnet if not to Express
But Expression alone Good Fame depends
If Maps such as these confuses the Rest
Then Life's Published Theme will begin to End
These Girls do not just a Heart label so
Pressing the Rewind back to Robin's Day
But Issues pressed onto Paper, and go
Feed the Bird's Stem and regulate their Say
Someone like me must care about these Things
And Mark at how their Chemistry reacts
Prudence, the Ingredient I must now bring
To set my Items from Falsehoods to Facts.
It would be Easier if you just Spoke
Perhaps my Attitude made me go Broke.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 3:08 AM UTC
His fur catches twinkling light
spots motifs hypnotize.
He paces the cage, restless.
The black claw wants
to tear open raw flesh.
Pulsing dense warmth
flows in the heavy air.
To get closer—
just for a while,
to look into gold-red, cold eyes
To touch the mystery,
to ask what it feels
when it rips apart the skull
and slurps the fading beingness…
Is curiosity worth it?
Nature is no accident,
Nothing is left to mere chance.
Stare too long into his eyes,
the barriers come down…
Is that you, or is that I?
An ominous gaze is a gift
that unveils the fated future.
If they open the door
He reacts without control.
His instincts unerringly
detect unspoken warnings.
Run away,
Turn to stone,
Scream or Faint if you want.
The shrinking, narrow space
puts everyone to the test
in a world of large and small cages.
Feb 20, 2025
Feb 20, 2025 at 6:35 AM UTC
The energy is strong between us,
I can feel it.
I like physics.
Cause' the chemistry between us,
No chemist could comprehend.
I can feel the energy we share as we stand and hold hands.
My heart dance to every melody you speak,
My flesh reacts making my heart skips a beat.
You're my chemistry and
I'm into you.
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 9:54 PM UTC
No one knows it’s you I admire
No one knows how you inspire
No one knows we will conspire
The hypnotic curve of your hips,
The sultry red of your full lips,
The caress of your finger tips
These things all set my heart afire
The way you smile when you touch me
The way your soul reacts carefree
The way you crave is plain to see
There in sparkling eyes of sapphire
The need in you as strong as mine
The lust is thick as we entwine
The passion seems hard to define
We yield to ****** desires
© Copyright 2012 Wm. Tracey Bakelar - All Rights Reserved
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 2:15 PM UTC
pretty words for pretty girls
*courageous caress of a send key pressed,
after practicing
speechless up to the assumed,
up to assured point of perfect,
flawlessness, visible in each invisible breath,
pauses full of poignant stories unspoken
but eye cleared visible for seeing the future*
pretty words for pretty girls
*intuition incorporates superstition,
unending, intending infatuated moon gazing,
but not pagan worshiping, no it is love worshiping
your hiding cave places are moon apertures dark spots,
impenetrable to my eye’s naked telescoping,
but heartbeats spring my unharnessed love poems to you
me and millions whisper in full certainty of our
lost but beloved presences, moon stored for us,
my darling dares the light shine upon my bay,
here to me, our path, a moonlight waving hand
provides on many nights, a clear direction to follow,
pseudo-thrills of continence that my vision uncovers,
but my body knows is but a poor substitute*
pretty words for pretty girls
*my disease has a diagnosis.
your body attacked,
your body reacts,
defeats the infector,
remembering the next time
that disease comes round
how it got beat prior
and how to do it again*
so how come I’m falling love once more?*
Aug 3, 2019
Aug 3, 2019 at 5:20 PM UTC
***How do you measure
The worth of a man
Is it in all the work
He does with his hands
Or in those he knows
He counts on as friends
Is it in how he finishes
Is it how he begins
Is it in how he fly's
Or in how he lands
Is it his trust in God
When he doesn't understand
Is it when the odd's say he can't
But he still feels that he can
Is it where he draws the line
And where he makes his stand
Or how he reacts
When there's nothing left
Is this how you measure
The worth of a man***
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 7:17 AM UTC
My mind is going weird again and hurting my head
I don't know what to make of it
I think
I want a male me
Or just me. I want another me. Doesn't necessarily have to be male. Can be female. Why not both. But I want another physical and spiritual embodiment of who I am as a person
A part of me just wants to hug and hold someone. And my head is automatically choosing said person, but the feeling of the mere hug and contact is overshadowing the identity of the person by a few degrees
I miss calloused hands roaming my body. And I miss body heat. I miss legs I can entangle mine with. I miss the crooks of necks. I miss snores emanating from a chest and hearing the rumble in the air from it. I miss tired faces resting and appearing destressed. I miss light groans as a body shifts positions in their sleep.
I think I can pinpoint what it is that I miss. Because although all sound like physical and verbal responses, it is not the actions, although they always go hand in hand.
I think I miss intimacy. But what is necessarily intimacy?
There's a few definitions as soon as one googles it
A close familiarity or closeness. A private, cozy atmosphere. A closeness of observation or knowledge of a subject.
My chest aches and pounds as I try to put my finger on what it is I'm searching for. The more it aches, the closer I am to finding my answer
Intimacy.
In-tih-mah-see.
In-to-me-see.
See-in-to-me.
Intimacy is to see in to me.
It is to let and allow someone to see you for who you are, to know what makes you a being.
But not necessarily in your head.
Intimacy is the knowledge of how another person's mind control's their body. How the body reacts to acts that can cause the mind to blank or move forward just off-beat of the body.
It's dragging your fingertips over their body and feeling the goosebumps rise as a laugh comes from the mouth over the words "popcorn butter is actually coconut oil with artificial flavoring" and feeling your eyes connect the dots between those goosebumps to their face and your brain noticing the connection between noises and nerve endings.
Intimacy is a weird state to be in. Because too much can cause the mind to blank and overload itself with serotonin and dopamine. All the while there is never enough time in the world to drag on that forever feeling
It's the act of getting lost in a person and discovering bits and pieces of how you affect said person.
In body, in mind, in response
I think I'm done because I don't know how else to frame my words. My head hurts and my chest pounds with equal force. I believe it's time for me to bid adieu and deal with this in the dreamscape
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 11:24 PM UTC
The smooth sounds of rnb,
Vibe from my speakers
Deep into my mind.
While the sweet melodies
And lyrics flow in my ears,
My brain reacts to words
And sends signals
through most of body.
Music control my state of mind.
It brings violence or peace,
depending on the lyrics.
The beat controls my tempo
Mellow or Uptight
Music controls my life,
And emotions
It will always make my day.
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC
. *i was ************ when the earthquake hit.*
*i’d say it was the best ****** i ever had.*
an animal!
a multicellular eukaryotic organism of the kingdom ingesting other organisms to progress!
a well-organized kid of chaos strutting his stuff and puffing his puff.
rifle, duffel, falafel, phil.
fully blessed and stressed to strum forward for the sun, or fun
and fandango.
we are the people,
and the people are merely material,
and the material breathed and breached the darkness, for more.
we are man and woman and dog,
beasts screeching in a field over nothing, over everything, over ant-mounds and the sounds
of seasons meeting.
we think.
eat, drink, wine, woman, song.
he thinks
of nothing but her.
and so in the name of her, he acts, he reacts, he attacks the momentum of weekends into weekends into rhythm. he rolls
out and the words roll off and the days roll by, but this is the unfolding of life,
right?
strife upon strife upon struggle to eat,
and repeat,
and eat her *****
he was a well-spoken yet savage young buck,
evolving to confide and subside with these friends or enemies and imbibe the night away.
repeat/
he was a rise and shine early type with a mug of hot brew.
or the dream and shine late type with a bottle of cold cider.
repeat/
his blind date is a troll woman digging through the dumpster across the street.
he is a goblin boy gritting his fangs toward a girl, on a dancefloor, in a club, and bubble go the texts.
his texts are long and resolute.
she doesn’t respond.
she does respond.
she is seeing someone else. others
from a tall tree or lineage of men with strength and material.
a tall line of men and misters and teachers and tongues, all men obsessed with death &/or glory.
and by rite i obsess with death &/or glory.
and the dog, i want the dog there with me.
and the girl.
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 7:07 AM UTC
Her lips scream
" KISS ME "
Then whisper
" kiss me now "
At once
a thousand nerve-ends wake
electricity
rampant beneath
tender
sweet
candyfloss skin
Anticipating contact
her inner rhythms quicken
from ‘ bump-n-grind ’
to ‘ swing-beat ’
Hearts play along
to the new tune now
She smiles with those eyes
the message of her mouth
Delight
I understand at once
Replying
without reaching for a word
No second thoughts invade
the privacy of spontaneity
I just move to accept
this luscious invite
In a flash
ecstatic urges awaken
erotica in our minds
as we close
our telltale eyes
a split second before
the precious
perfect impact
Seems magnetically
heads tilt
Moving closer
till our silently screaming
half-opened mouths
knowingly meet
in once vacant space
Intentions projected
instantly accepted
Mouths
express new feeling
Tongues
take on new meaning
Suggestions
of intensity requesting
passions
yet to be fulfilled
The warm silk
snake of temptation
reacts to vibration
Twisting
Rolling
Curling
*******
Chewing
Playfully biting
Unspoken promises
Exciting
She plays a sensual game
Active / Passive
Strong / Soft
Control / Yield
Secrets revealed
Releasing for a moment
our mesmeric communion
Poised in breathlessness
we stare
as we subtly swallow
the essence
of our watery endeavour
Eyes smile
that insatiable smile
Still thirsting
chemical reactions
conceived by our emotions
Speed of light sensations
send shivers down our spine
Time
sleeps for a moment
Lost
in a fragment of dreamscape
we too escape
“ Mmmmmmm ”
The gentle sigh
waves through the air
We lose contact
with our unwelcome surrounds
as once again we entwine
to re-enact
the passage of our bliss
A repeat
of erogenous stimulation
replays the symphony of desire
in a higher vibration
Mouths in motion
mirror dancing
Automatic reactions
assume control
Whilst my mind
Is with her mind
my Soul
is with her Soul
Her grip tightens
Wanting more
wanton more
Red-hot
lava in the veins
seeking to surface
in a fiery eruption
Our watery essence
Seems to feed the flames
Yearning
I hear her
Burning
I feel her
Softening
Stiffening
Pulsing
I'm in her.
Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 3:49 PM UTC
Here's the truth:
Love can't be recognized in a time span of two, to five minutes.
It's not as easy as you may or may not think.
Love has to be felt by one.
All parts of the body are significant to feeling love, it's not just the heart.
You may think the heart reacts most to love;
But it's mostly the body.
It's always the body, showing you signs.
Your fingers that make you instantly reply a text message.
Your stomach that makes it seem like you run a butterfly field in there.
Your knees that wobbles at the sight of the other walking toward you.
Your eyes & head that ache after a night of silent cries under the sheets.
Other than that..
The sparks you feel at each contact.
Fireworks everywhere during each kiss!
The sharp knives that penetrate into your whole ******* soul when the other actually says it the end,
that's where you gotta stand and say;
"I ******* love you, you have to stay."
Man, that's love. And how you feel it.
y.m
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 9:21 AM UTC
By the way someone
reacts to our loved ones..
***
We,
Judge
Accuse,
Criticize,
Blame,
Thrash,
them...
***
Don't be judgemental,
Don't look at the world
by someone's eyes,
Remember there's
always another side,
***
So,
Take time out to,
Understand,
Talk,
Realize,
Believe,
in others..
Then
Hate
Or
Love.
Let it be justified !
***
Sparkle In Wisdom
31/7/2019
Jul 31, 2019
Jul 31, 2019 at 5:04 AM UTC
Continuous Guidance
No, not for a child.
For you and me.
How? Why? You can ask.
Mind is a child.
It reacts to people.
It reacts to situation.
It reacts to environment.
It moulds like clay,
And then stays that way.
Not wrong.
But be sure to mould it in the right.
That’s what I meant.
Continuous guidance
like a child.
At every step.
At every feeling.
At every action.
Guidance.
Mind is a puppet too.
Some people play with it.
Some situations play with it.
Be careful then,
A good person turns bad when,
It is played with.
You cannot run away.
You cannot hide.
From your own mind.
It is your baby,
It is your child.
If you don’t care,
Who will?
Guide it.
Watch over it.
But don’t think to leave it.
Forget it.
The mind will be mindless then.
It will hurt, when its hurts.
It will hate, when its hated.
It will be angry and stubborn.
And the people you love will suffer.
If you care for the people you love,
Care for it.
Care for your mind,
So it may learn to care more.
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 1:26 AM UTC
There are men (fair knights) who always get what they want.
If suddenly, Mr. Knight doesn’t get - say, a girl (the fair maiden) - he’s confused - what IS this, he wonders but he doesn’t KNOW. We will assume that getting this thing (girl in our example) is important to him.
Though his perceptual systems are still searching for answers he gets a sinking feeling because his limbic system reacts faster. It tells him something’s wrong - and it might be a predator (the dragon) so he starts sweating, he wasn’t prepared for a dragon - for chaos!
Why didn’t I get what I wanted, he will ask himself.
Maybe I’m not attractive? (That would be a horror of the 1st order)
Maybe this girl is trying to hurt me.. attack me? (the predator) - that may be a thought, but it’s unlikely and an unhealthy one.
Rejecting that he must ask himself questions: Did he come on too strong? Was he acting like a **** Did he make too many assumptions? Am I well dressed? Did I shower today? (he smells his breath, checks himself in a mirror) He goes back over the encounter in his mind. Was he really trying his best?
If he decides, at this point, to go on, he must face his unrealized world in order to slay the dragon of chaos blocking him. The issue may be something outside of his normal, conceptual structure.
In that case, the problem is literally, the snake in the garden (his walled conceptual garden - his view of the world and his place in it).
Now this IS something - a snake in the garden - again he can give up - quit with this girl, quit trying period, quit dating, bathing, eating - that’s how the dragon can ****
Failure is a message from the implicit world. The good news is - it’s a message from the real world and it may be a gift - the best thing that ever happened to him. A slap that says: wake up, learn something, clue-in.
It can be a treasure, the gold that dragons hoard.
Dec 2, 2021
Dec 2, 2021 at 9:14 AM UTC
Reading and researching about fiction and facts.
You try to clear up our racist past.
When a black walked into a eating establishment to eat.
You ponder and wonder about those racists wrath.
What about the skin of a person that makes fools reacts?
Or those that intimidated not stand up to wrong.
When we remain quiet we gives stupidity a home.
Then you ponder and wonder about the bigots.
Maybe, they wasn't afraid of the blacks.
But afraid of their own.
Many racists don't truly have a happy home.
When a Latino illegally or legally comes to America.
Who really believes they taking anyone job?
Many are working hard at jobs that hard working Americans avoid.
We must address our inner self.
For within our hearts lies an answer.
We all see things from a different view.
When judgment day comes.
And you must be held accountable before God.
And He ask you what wrong did you do?
Will you be truthful without offering an excuse?
Yes, you can reform your love for the people you hate.
But God requires us to do before we standing at the gate.
Cause, standing before Him now.
Just might be a little late.
But we are dealing with the human nature of the flesh.
And that alone create most of our trouble.
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 8:43 AM UTC
These thoughts and feelings
flowing through me
affecting
every aspect of my being.
My brain
receives and processes
the information
and then
reacts
No thought is needed
A highly functional automated algorithm
abiding by the learned lessons of interaction
and conditioning burnt into the once easily malleable
network of neurons that defines my personality
The heavy mask of logic and pride
so tightly wrapped
over the fabric of my true being
keeping me in this game
Yet
I chose to play
To identify
with this silly and burdensome sobriquet
To one day break free from the automated voice-mail
that responds apathetically to the glorified
archetypes, thought-forms, information
that originates from
God
creator of
signal and receiver
thought and mind
emotion and body
Once the original signal is found
a needle in a haystack
the mystery is opened
the opening of a book yet written
A beginning to all beginnings
An ending to all endings
this is you, here, now.
LIVE. BE.
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 1:13 AM UTC
And he traces her inner thigh with his lips, eliciting a moan from her as he teases her entrance.
He slides a finger in, pressing deep inside her. She bucks her hips up to meet his knuckle, he growls with feigned arousal. He resurfaces, attacking her mouth, owning her. She surrenders to his tongue, if only to allow nostalgia passage. She rubs herself against him, a mewling kitten in heat, crying harder. She fakes an ****** to satisfy him.
He presses his **** against her and she realises how little she affects him. Determined, he forces himself past her barrier, grunting and growling. He assaults her mouth again and she reacts accordingly, trailing her nails down his back in a futile attempt to rekindle. She is unsure of how this came to be. She fights back tears as she threads her fingers through his hair. She knows she is still and always will be second best. He grows soft. A tacit agreement. Neither of them finish.
She rolls over to face the television. An old british comedy is on loop, making the same stale jokes that may have been funny a decade ago. And here she is, on repeat, making the same mistakes she made a decade ago.
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 9:53 PM UTC
Even the greatest moments, calmest actions, most peaceful energy, would be unable to tear it off once it sticks
it winds you up for everything and causes one to just pace instead
Eyes get dizzy from observation of another's and can assimilate the same hold
Tension continues to escalate and bottling it up only makes the explosion imminent
No one likes it
Some look to escape through things that actually increase it
An insanity I've dealt with and still resisting
Depravity of vice while the resuscitation of life simultaneously reacts from one thought and act of will
It's hell to deal with
I think the void between two lives would be more difficult than this
At least then you could be fascinated by the new journey
Than to continue the same and battle the duality of choosing a side
Or dealing with human ordeals such as quitting smoking or relationships
Decisions can create a hold on you, but when it's out of nowhere....
The confusion continues the hold
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 1:43 AM UTC