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Wifey_
Existentialist.
11 Posts • 58 Followers • 36 Following
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Books
Challenge
Colours
Write about a colour/colours in less than 100 words. What makes them beautiful, or what do they make beautiful? Be creative. Keep it clean, poetry or prose.
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Wifey_
23 reads

Spring back to life.

Every taint or hue is more or less something not comforting i turn to things so dreary-like so mistaken of its own giving i forget sometimes that life isn't just mechanical dryness. learning to love to reconnect to nature is like watching a witch spin a thousand spider's webs the smell is cramming into a book noggin waiting for something returning to nothing smiling, but never realising why. everytime colours erupt into a frenzy, it burns my ears with its harmonic melody, turning my body from the inside out spilling all my organs on the floor in a euphoric loop.

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Challenge
Profile Pic
Write about why your profile picture, is what it is. Why did you choose this over anything else? Is there an interesting reason behind it? I have not been here long enough to know if this challenge has happened recently, so I apologize if it has :3
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Wifey_
10 reads

Femininity.

to have a childless dream of nighmarish waking. every comforting, wry gloss of a sunset I shave my hair off my head, only to want to grow it all back. to walk by chanel and want to become all prettier, more feminine. it is a "guilty" yet repressed shadowy part of drinking stale-boned liver-washing we become one, twisted beyond the next frankenstein screaming beyond the lover's wrighty i am afraid of monsters; only to have seen one in a mirror. I see myself as someone else, a past so haunting that sleepless-wailing is a cry hound to a next bodybreak we live.

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Challenge
Tips On Being Human
For the aliens among us =)
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Wifey_
25 reads

Instructions

1: Learn to love everything, even death. Nothing is more noble than that.

2: Not many will understand the uniqueness of minds that seem deviated from the norm, they will only comprehend them as mad.

3: Laugh at everything. Laugh at the natural comedy of this world, because it will be dead if you don't.

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Challenge
In twenty words, tell me something beautiful about life
Keep it clean and tag me! You can write multiple things or just one. Poetry or prose.
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Wifey_
30 reads

Barebones.

Theres nothing more beautiful

then the wind that sings

or the infinite pendulum of ballerinas

One must laugh at Life.

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Challenge
what is writing, to you?
i know this challenge has been done before BUT i would like to put a different spin on it. i'll write the first entry to give you an idea, but i'd like to you make me feel the desperation you do - or, lack thereof - when you *NEED* to write. when you need to say something and say it now. also, please tag me, @Sadwinistic!!!!! thank you:D winner is the one who makes me feel the most:P (not myself, btw, bc that does not seem fair at all)
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Wifey_
20 reads

Writing.

whenever I look at words

they come off the page, flying all around me.

they draw upon their soul, looking into me

with hand-like grasps, no certainty enough for saying

that sometimes, each word has a history behind it

not a quiet thing a madness made but a sentience of folly

I am a mad fool, who dances in my dream

only to never live in my own reality.

I must dream.

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Challenge
Where was the body
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Wifey_
41 reads

Death.

I keep hearing noises in my basement every time I have my neighbours over to chat.

I wonder sometimes if the dead still haunt you.

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Challenge
Christmas list
What you want this Christmas?
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Wifey_
16 reads

Life of a Romanticist

Sometimes terror strikes

within the hearts of men

not jolly, but prejudice the reckoning

of wits we crave something not nothing

have we ever wondered what was like

since the dream we made for ourselves

luna disappears and yet we still imagine

discovering the galaxies left unknown

the cosmic horrors still keep us awake

we all want the same thing.

whatever you choose is for

your own consequence.

you

live with

the choices

you make.

"Stories, are where are memories go when they are forgotten." - 12th Doctor.

To Live! To Life! To Love!

We must remember what it was like

Before we lost

Ourselves.

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Challenge
Heart Of Stone, Or A Heart Of Flesh?
Would you rather have a heart of stone, or a heart of flesh? Would you prefer your heart breakable, or have a heart that can never love? Explain why.
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Wifey_
26 reads

le calvaire

I rather have a heart that breaks.

Out of all the years I have lived, I never heard anything more nonsensical that you don't want to get hurt, or suffering isn't a part of life. If suffering isn't a part of life, then why is there so much of it in history and around the world now? I am not saying that the tragedies of the Soviet Union and the horrors of Auschwitz were justified, but what I want to point across is that suffering is intrinsic. If the Existentialists say that "Life is full of intrinsic suffering" and that "One should bear the burden of being" then I must say, even reluctantly that suffering is natural. What is gained from it? You can harp about all the loss, the pain, the sadness, the darkness. Yes, there is. But no one ever talks about the knowledge gleamed. The experience gained. What happens after.

As an Existentialist who mainly follows Nietzsche, I must say my heart needs to break. It must. If it doesn't, am I any human? Would I not feel? Emotions are not just these chemicals that do these things to me, they are songs. They are stories, of the lives people had lived before looking through the world where our rationality has gotten a hold of itself and made us believe that this world can be "free of suffering" and the utopia of heaven can happen. It can't.

As Dostoevsky once said in his book Notes from the Underground : "It is just his fantastic dreams, his vulgar folly, that he will desire to retain, simply in order to prove to himself (as though that were so necessary) that men still are men and not piano keys, which even if played by the laws of nature themselves threaten to be controlled so completely that soon one will be able to desire nothing but by the calendar."

"He who has a why can bear almost any how." - Friedrich Nietzsche.

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Challenge
Make a wish
Just make a wish. Describe it in a poem, story, prose, or whatever.
Profile avatar image for Wifey_
Wifey_ in Fantasy
28 reads

Love.

"Never be cruel,

Never be cowardly,

Never ever eat pears!"

"Always try be nice

but never fail to be kind!"

"Laugh hard. Learn fast.

Be kind."

- Peter Capaldi, 12th Doctor

I turned the black-grimm dial only to uncover a secrets a mess from the sullen clockwork world, a noise so sweet it can kill the lines brawned from your skin.

"love the world. love the world. love the world. love the world.........."

turning pirouettes as pretty as the meadows themselves, they belong to nowhere and no one. if we could ever decide which tumbleville dragon to dance on until our toes curl and bleed let it not soar through the last promise ever made to the ever-changing hues of nothing. let it stay forever in our hearts, enclosed in a case of glass. we can't einstein this out of the state we are in. look at me. the flaws of this world, colourized into seams that stretch in our bodies, puppeteering our every movement. can i ask you a favour? bring me the world in a autumn rollercoaster carnival that lets us taste the candy floss air

bring me love that poisons you

and you will love me forever.

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Challenge
What is Hope?
Profile avatar image for Wifey_
Wifey_
20 reads

Ferox gens, nullam esse vitam sine armis rati.

Hope. What is it? I dare not say. I happened to stumble upon it, only to suffer even far more worser than before. Let me bleed black tears. The skies shall rip asunder once again. Every experience, every memory, tells me I shouldn't hope. Why? There's nothing wrong with it either. Maybe because I have been going on my own for too long, and I already have forgotten the roots that trace back to Genesis. "Do no harm. Love thy neighbour as ye would thyself." Every mantra you learned, it's useless. It's useless in the face of life's suffering, because not many have the strength to live and still expect the worse can happen.

Too many of us live in the guises of the masks society knits for us, only to realise too late that none of our desires are actually our own. "Where is God, then?" You may ask. The madman may say he is dead, and we have killed him. Some say that no, the Lord my God is my God, and to me he becomes indescrible in all of his majestic glory.

Hope is, nothing but man's justification for his romanticism and heroism.

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