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1) to solitude: for embracing my current and unavoidable state of being, not in useless ponder or contemplation, but in a organic yet intentional direction towards self forgiveness, and a transforming journey, and realization, into “being”; as described by Eckhart Tolle in “The Power of Now”. for allowing me the gift of space within, to bear fruit to earnest honesty, yet foment Light for future plans, in virtuous manner, without dream-like delusions or self torment from the past.

2) to the, slow yet obvious, dissolving of the Ego via realization, and active practice thereof, of the “observer”: as opposed to the “thinker”, which bore gorgeous fruit to disassociation from the “earthly”, and incredibly vain, self and its incessant attachment to it via unconscious living.
notes of gratitude in the form of Aurelius’s journaling style, at least an attempt at it. gonna try this on my personal, physical journal and translate what i seem worthy onto here, let me know if you enjoy.
J Vital Feb 3
I walk in the shadows, a dead man alive,
Broken pieces, whispers of survival.

I'm the ghost of my existence,
Existence carved from pains' persistence.

I'm the stillness, I find my voice,
Voice of resilience, my soul's choice.

Though shattered, I rise, I rise again,
Again, Echoes of solitude,
my silent refrain.
J Vital Jan 29
Solitude Whispers
Peaceful ripples through Serene,
Silent lake mirrors.
David Cunha Jan 13
Six string buzz galore
Stars align in solemn swear
The soul oozes out
- David Cunha
january 13, 2024
5:30 a.m.
Christian Bixler Dec 2023
dim hallway
alone the hanging lamp
floats
brandychanning Nov 2023
the sol and solitude
scalpel~dissect layers of tissue,
marrows of nuclei separate,
the warming is discomforting

dismayed and dissuaded,
cannot be in two places,
either/or/or simultaneous,
my centerpiece is a-kilter

wavering and waving,
my balance is mis-weighted,
teetering and tottering, in a land
lightly and thickly discriminating

between bodies and disembodiment
I am neither
I am both,
therefore,
I am invisible
to eyes that are shut by
obstructions of
willful
blindness
ShininGale Nov 2023
Through the years I have watched and defended you on my mind,
even to myself I exploit my own plot of the story.

I know your love has its limit,
I saw the clear lines and live with it.
I know I was treated differently,
but hey! I told myself I've always wanted this.

𝙏𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩.

It was easier to agree and trust others, right?
But with me there are words added to the lines.

It has always been this way;
to become someone your own, but always feels alone.
0110110202309055AM
I forgot when was the last time I wrote a poetry
but through the time nothing really changed.

But we became better people, better individuals.
Sara Brummer Oct 2023
Small boat, tiny port, an island
sleeping under hazy sun.
Mystical moist air, threads
of rose clouds decorate the sky.

On an empty day, the heart
wants for nothing. Radiance
pours abundance into each
instant of being, light's high
testimony chasing ghosts
of memory, sea's great chasm
surrendering to shore's sandy
welcome and the naked dance
of wind in wild palms.

An island alone accepts the risk
of solitude as evening illuminates its own blue glow
and the perfect silence of the stars fills the dark
with its own sweet comfort.
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