
Life, Life
What have we got
Tell me what you know
And don't let me fall.
Life, Life
Isn't there enough?
The path has been rough
I'm slowly giving up
Promise me you won't let me fall.
Life, Life
Don't let me go
Is the sun bright?
You got me blind.
Let me reach your hand,
Please answer my call.
Life, Life
You let me go,
Now I feel lost.
Why did you leave me alone?
Am I not enough?
Life, life
I'm done with this path.
You didn't hold me long enough.
Life, life
I found someone better than you,
She made me promise to stay away from you,
And now she got me out of the blue.
Instead of life,
I chose the light.
About the Creator
Future Writers Go This Way
I'm not going to lie. I'm not a full-time writer, but I know I'll get there someday. You may understand the struggle that becoming a successful writer is not following steps, but creating your own. Yes, it is possible and yes, great writers share amazing advice. Right now I am only nineteen years old, but you gotta start somewhere, right? I've been writing since the age of eight. Some years I didn't write at all, others, I wrote for days without wasting a single minute. I hope you can relate to this and if you do the same as I do... Congrats! We might be successful writers one day. Nowadays, I try to write as much as I can, so I can finally fulfill the dream I had since the age of eight. Writing takes A LOT of hard work, and sometimes you feel like it's impossible to achieve it or you simply have writer's block! My advice is to play your favorite playlist. I actually have one called "believe" that motivates me and makes me feel like I can achieve it and nothing is going to stop me! I'm not going to lie... Even Hannah Montana's songs are on the playlist. It's childish and some people might call it stupid, but hey. It works. I am proof of that. I can't assure you, you will find glory and become the most famous writer, but what I do know is that never giving up no matter how many times you've failed is the key. How do I know that if I'm not a famous writer? Because I've given up many times and haven't found the success yet, so I guess the path of not giving up is the one I have left. Your best friend will become "coffee" and if you are over 21, it can also be alcohol (Just saying, I'm not implying you'll become an alcoholic). One other thing... Don't you like the last paragraph because of your lack of effort? Got the solution! Read it again and if it makes no sense or doesn't imply what you wanted to transmit.. Here's the answer. DELETE. I know it hurts to delete that piece of writing. Sometimes you think, "What if it's the next masterpiece even though it doesn't make any sense?"Like famous authors from different ages through history that you know, it's a masterpiece, but you don't really understand what they meant. Fine. Don't delete it. Just copy and paste it into another document and save all the crappy paragraphs you write. Maybe later in the story, it will make sense! That's just my advice to you. I know it's not much and I am not a well-known writer (YET), but I can assure you that my advice wasn't followed by me. To be honest, I did the opposite. So, the opposite of what I did might be the answer! I'm still trying to find the right path and I make mistakes; everyone does, but what helps us is that we learn. Sometimes you get so disappointed because you haven't written anything good in weeks, but guess what? HIT PLAY ON THAT PLAYLIST. I promise it will help. Never give up. That's what all successful people say... "never give up." You sometimes need to act like you can never get enough, because I'm sure one day you'll look back and thank that crappy paragraph you once wrote because it became a masterpiece and now you're known by the world! If that's not the case, at least it helped you to know what NOT to write. I really hope you hear my name one day and you'll know I succeeded. In the meantime, I won't give up and don't you dare to mention that word when you're working, because that's the only failure and mistake you'll ever make. If you believe in me, why wouldn't I believe in you? I know you can do it and I hope to see your name in a bookstore one of this days.
By Van Eliz8 years ago in Motivation
Foot Bindings
I asked my grandmother how she knew she'd fallen in love. I am not sure I ever did love him, she said. This was before I met my husband. I was naive, a naked spring, a raw nerve of a thing. That cannot ever be me, I knew. Sadness swept in gently like a Moscow thaw. It is no simple thing, looking into a woman's vast soul and seeing its foot bindings. Now, in Italy divorced with my skin singed off, when I say I don't love him mean: I have succeeded at feeling nothing most days and it mostly works. Do you want the comfort of Nothing? Do you want Nothing, too? Be warned: you'll never be free, even when you are nothing. Here is what doesn't work: Accepting the stages of grief. Talking about it. Sitting with the feeling. Missing him—no, the person you were when you believed in death do us part. Writing poetry. That, too. When I say I don't love him I mean: I feel capsized in an endless, starved tide. What sometimes works: selective memory. You must forget ripe tomatoes and his beard and feeling perfectly sheltered in a big blue world. Forget coffee in bed, laughter watching TV, blowing out the candles on the birthday cake and the quiet all-encompassing knowledge that you are chosen. Remember only how love turned to a banal everyday survival act, a trapeze act unsure whether he will catch you, how the warmth stagnated and became sour, remember the foot bindings and remember the resentment boiling in your veins as you stick it out for the kids. Six-hour Netflix binges help, too. A man's fingers tracing your spine. Frozen pizza at 2 a.m. Random trips to the museum just to stand near things that last a while. The realization that crying won’t change anything. Seeing that life is just a dream, and refusing to participate in your own suffering. Bite your fist. Walk on eggshells around joy. When I say I don't love him, I mean he didn’t break my heart, he just stopped touching it and it forgot how to beat right.
By Ella Bogdanovaabout 16 hours ago in Poets
Feelings Never Die
It is Valentine's Day again, and it bought back memories that were over fifty years old. It bought me back to 1971, and I woke up and I knew my baby was due today. I was big and pregnant, and I felt like I was about to burst wide open. Imagine my surprise when the doctor told my I had a due date of February 14. I couldn't believe it, and since my baby was due today, I felt I could indulge myself a bit. I had gained a lot of weight, and chocolate was on the no-no list, but I had came to the end of this pregnancy, and I hoped it would be okay, after all I would deliver this baby today. So I walked across the street to the grocery story, and bought myself, a peppermint patty, covered in chocolate, my favorite. Me and my Valentine's baby would enjoy it together.
By Susan Payton4 days ago in Fiction


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