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@jpthreeper

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"It is the songbird turned to dark"
Juansen Dizon, i am the architect of my own destruction
I hate that I'm this way. Sometimes, I feel it would be easier if I could just be less... if I didn't do everything with such passion. Love or hate. If I could just be tepid in some ways, I feel it would cause me less heartache. If I could allow myself to not feel so fervently about the the things that grip my world, I could smile more. I could allow myself to be a regular person. I may have to forego the things that make me special, but what's the point in possessing these things if all they do is cause me pain?
" Please Don't Whisper"
"It's the loudest when the rest of the world is still and quiet. When the bustling and laughter cease and the carefree conversations of those so lucky to have them come to rest, that's when he finds himself so boisterous. So vain as to relish his voice above all others, he chooses first a whisper to gather my attention just as when you hold your breath to hear creeping thunder on the air of distant storms. I don't want to listen; I don't want to hear these heavy burdens from this forked tongue. Such pestilence drips as honey from the comb to claim my ear for rest. My chest grows tight and the frost comes quick, anticipating wicked chastisement from behind slick teeth. What began as the softest of indictments has become deafening despair. He plunges his belittlements to the deepest caverns of my consciousness, basking in delight as they echo throughout. So much truth in these lies. So much despondency created from miniscule seed. He has many names, but in my ear, he calls himself Depression."

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
"CONNOTATIONS"
I can't. I fail. I'm losing. I'm nothing.
I can't. I cant be swallowed by all this pain and sorrow. I can't allow the shadows to consume me. I can't leave my children to the wrath and indifference of this world. I can't be defeated, for God is with me. I can't forsake his name.
I fail. I fail to stay at the bottom. I fail to lay down and have the stones piled upon me for a stranger to carve my epitaph. I fail to give naysayers the satisfaction of confirmation. I fail to give in.
I'm losing. I'm losing hatred for those who have wounded me and therein rightfully earned it. I'm losing the burden of carrying the love I have lost through all these years. I'm losing the doubt I have had for myself. I'm losing myself in being the best version of myself.
I'm nothing. I'm nothing but a father whose children look to him for guidance and unconditional love. I'm nothing but a son whose parents want the best for him. I'm nothing but a loyal friend to those so lucky as to call me such. I'm nothing but a broken child of God.
"Beneath the Wild Mallow"
From its twisted petals radiates the faintest scent of watermelon. Memories of summer sun and the sounds of Independence Day mingle with smiles and laughter as if tomorrow will never harm us. You always saw to that. We laid you beneath the wild mallow today. A place you would have loved to have lain above, resting your eyes beneath a summer sun, knowing you couldn't possibly be loved any better. Finding comfort in simplicity and beauty, I would have lied down with you, my head on your back and your ears finding my hand to scratch them as always. I'd have unburdened all of my woes upon you, and you would have lain there among the mallow listening intently, the occasional kiss of my hand for comfort. In my thoughts and memories you will always be as jubilant as fireworks on the Fourth of July, and the scent of watermelon will bring a warmth to my soul. Beneath the wild mallow I have laid my heart.
AMNESIA
I don't want to forget. Though all these memories are tainted with sorrow, I want to remember. Every fleeting scene filling my mind's eye like old movies painted in their blues and grays. It's a nostalgic flickering that paces with the beat of my heart just as a metronome would set time for the loneliest of strings. I don't want to forget. As my mind writhes in ceasless agony, I can't turn away. I'm baptized in waves of grief on shores of hopelessness, while watching the moments I found most beautiful. Love is as cruel as it is sweet.
Maybe In Another Time
Maybe in another time, everything would be better. All the weight of pain and hurt would disappear and walking beside me would be easy again. Your mind could retire from the unrelenting battles to realize the simplicity of beauty.
Maybe in another world, Enlightenment would find Forgiveness while trudging through all the fogs and shadows of doubt just to realize hindsight doesn't have to be the way. They can hold each other tightly and make it so.
Maybe in another existence, all these nightmares cloaked in despair would be a litmus for strength and resolve. They could be accepted and even embraced as a testament of the truth in this love.
Maybe in another dream, the breath will quicken and the heart will stir, giving way to paths overgrown. Silver footsteps leading through muddy ways, shall gleam more beautiful than before.
Maybe in another time, life could be beautiful again.
"Is this what a dream is made of?
Days spent time traveling from one place to another. My thoughts are not in the present, but ever seeking to be in her presence. They drift in and out of reality as if they care nothing for others but only to feed the dreams. Can you be selfish in a dream? It is yours to experience after all. I regret to share her in reality so she is the lone star I worship in the universe I have made for us. They say dreams are suppressed desires, but I desire her openly."
-jahaig

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"Make no mistake, there is no such luxury as neutrality. The tepid balking from matters of substance reverberates louder than you expect."