IfI wereto writeevery dayfor onehundred days,would my soulbe purged ofthis malaise;is it a thingto be dredged,dragged up –twistedand tiedlike tatteredbed sheetsknottedtogether;is therea remedyfor thisscourge;or is thisan inherentrestlessness,a fiery bluespark of eternalangst ignitingpassion – a callto write? (Originally posted February, 2017. Image my own)
Expectations artificialliving in an urban junglelonging for nature’s calm – time moves too swiftlybarely registerlet alone participate We are guests in our ownexpectation’s dysfunctionlicensed for depression a smorgasbord for abuseintentions mislaid,disappointment unavoidable The ego pretends to be openbut she’s an actress off cueplaying out a sentence – condemned to basicspraying to escapethis dystopian malfunction. (Image […]
Powerful, VJ!
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Thanks 😊
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You’re welcome, dear!
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Beautiful pairing of your words and the art!
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Thanks Eugi
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I love that the words are the sparks. I find that to be so true!
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VJ, short and powerful. I love the final line. Keith
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Thanks 🙏
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Those words are so in sync with your art! Brilliant! 🙂 ❤
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Thank you!
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Beautiful
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Thanks 🙏
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The best kind!
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😊
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