oh, the milage you will get from doing milage. the more upset and red the better. why fuel or charge when you can loath, detest or despise?

have a passanger? they can help too. all you need is to piss them off.

you know, what to do:

be inconsiderate, fight over the AC, or the playlist. the car will thank you for it.

with built-in annoyance guarenteed, you will soon turn livid.

the outrage makes for major savings.

the car comes with either a smoked-out taxi scent or forgotten PB&J in the back. don’t miss the thrill of winding the window down. you’ll see what i mean..

Sand is falling

The future's calling

Time is moving day by day

I am chasing

Mostly racing 

So I won't be dragged away

I see others

Sisters, brother

All of them are racing too

But some are walking

Some are mocking

Yet so far by me they have flew

I think are winning

Some even grinning

How did they get there at all

But one by one

They are done

In front of me they start to fall

They are sleeping 

Or just lying, weeping

On the ground through them I run

I realize

Can see it rise

And finally then I see the sun

Up from the ground

I look around

I can see I'm not alone

I see the line

And fall behind

Right past me they all have flown

But I smile

For a while 

And others eyes I meet

Because thats it

I have passed it

Now I have somewhere to rest my feet

I gave you my heartfelt apologies and sympathies

Swallowed what you’d left of my pride

Played out like a somber, drawn out symphony

To make a connection, you never even tried

I didn’t owe you anything

All you’d left me with was trauma, anguish, and pain

You sat pointing a loaded gun

Pressed tightly against your head

This child’s mind instantly unraveled and undone

Starving for forbidden, affectionate words unsaid

Instead filled with beguiled nostalgia

Broken promises and false road trips

Painful, blistering whips, busted lips

Flimsy bones and adults abandoning ship

Illegal fellowships, adulterers commit

Childhood dreams clouded by the darkest overshadowing eclipse

Your strung out eyes dare not meet mine

Shame consumes every bit of your being

Emptiest of souls, no contact with the divine

Your hatred forever breeding

You pretend I don’t exist

Until that awkward moment you face

Like a persistent, infectious cyst,

You’ll have to accept and even embrace

I’ve grown immune to not having you around

And bonded with my idea of what you should be

But like every other dream unfound

It was only soothing lies, fabricated imagery haunted by a bewitching scenery

You never wanted to get to know me

Never showed interest in the adult I grew to be

I’ve learned to cope with no parental guidance

Stronger than you could ever hope to be, you’re cowardly and spineless

I wish I could just put you in my past

Conceived throughout space, daughter of the stars

Generated by the galactic, beautiful vast

Created from some celestial bizarre

But I can never forget you, you’re a rotting part of me

And you always will be, unfortunately

You’ll die missing bittersweet pieces

And when you perish, what remains of you in me weakens

“Goodbye and good riddance,”

I’ll say another day

When I’ve forgiven and acquired transcendence

Emotions not in constant disarray

Hopelessly wishing I’d gotten to know your mind

As well as I’ve gotten acquainted with my own

But your soul being so wickedly confined

You’ve disintegrated yourself to calloused stone

You’re chilled to the dissected depths of your bones

Growing more relentless and alone

Until the execration has possessed and overthrown

Buried deep within the ancient catacombs

Only perceiving your ancestral remains within my endogenous chromosomes

Extracting your enigma until archaic ruins are bare and shown

There will be no more to dismember, no longer tormented by the curious unknown...

I stare at the world

my eyes searching

for something more

I float

I soar

I dream

eyelids fluttering

as it all comes into life

stardust on my fingers

the milky way under my feet

the universe at my hands

a light lost in space

darkness spread on the edge of my mind

a loving heart

cradled in your arms

once found

now again without a home

barefoot I stand

sharing my soul

confiding in your thoughts

yet they leave no trace

of my tries

of my hopes

of my love

I hit a void

just after I crash against your walls

don't hold me back

when I want to fly

don't put me down

when I want to be held

I need the warmth

yet I get none

I yearn for the fire

to burn my fears

and cover myself in ashes

so I can be reborn

I want it... but do you?

Kasha, leave that corpse alone!

You're not welcome to this funeral

You grow old, and steal the dead

Tiger-headed cat with the burning tail

You're nobody's friend

Ride on a chariot of fire

To steal from the funeral pyre

Do not bury the souls of the damned

You'll take them to the burning lands

To swallow my pride

Is to swallow a rusty nail

The rules I must abide

Put me in a windowless cell

My brain imprisoned by shackles

My heart captivated by chains

The man in the corner cackles

Freedom quarantined, speech detained

My soul yearns to be freed from this penitentiary

Screaming and wailing inside

Searching for its karmic destiny

But my true path has been denied

Wish I could fly far from my prison

My spirit belongs to the stars

Behind tired eyes I envision

Embracing with wonderment, the beauty of Mars

The physical is not my home

This realm is not my fate

Born feeling it deep in my bones

I isolate and alienate

Because I’m so far from my home

I dream in shades of indigo

And seas of lavender crystal light

Sea sick with nauseating vertigo

Blinding me of my third sight

So I travel down the lonely road

Into the darkest of night

Where on Earth I feel I most belong

The moon and stars I see

Singing their siren song,

“Come away with me,”

“One day, my friend,”

I whisper to anyone who will listen

When this nightmare finally ends

And I travel the sea to the cosmos that glistens...

Time Zone

You shuffle your time,

I shuffle mine,

Distractions fill us,

As we try so hard to get closer.

Fighting the distance,

fighting the precious time, we get nearer,

only to get further away.

I want to beat this zone of missed opportunities,

So, I can reach your heart.

Here there and everywhere,

six in the morning when one here,

or noon here and five there.

Different languages spoken,

different attitudes toward life,

and we all share one bond:

expression of inner-self.

Above it all,

be it a thought,

a story, a poem, even just one word,

one stroke of a key;

we are bound as one.

_______________________________________________________________

@anarosewood and I made a challenge to each other. She was surprised by another post I did when I said I wrote it under 10 minutes here on my post. I joked and said maybe 9:53.

That's where the challenge came about, and with a slight nudge from @Msh, we, anarosewood and myself agreed to a topic and a time for us to each write what we would cojoin. Three minutes each. And as she said, she wanted seven, but I wouldn'r budge. Yeah, I can be a bossy old man at times!

But in essence, this piece is for all the Prosers out there from all four corners of the Earth. Thank you all for what you put here for us to share your tiny corner of life.

ღ

staring at the clock

you shuffle your time, I shuffle mine

distractions fill us,

as we try so hard

to get closer,

fighting the distance,

fighting the precious time

we get nearer,

only to get further away...

I want to beat this zone

of missed opportunities,

so I can reach your heart...

Time zone

Here there and everywhere

six in the morning when one here,

or noon here and five there

different languages spoken

different attitudes toward life

and we all share one bond

expression of inner-self.

Above it all, be it a thought, a story, a poem,

even just one word, one stroke of a key,

we are bound as one.

...................................................................................................

This was a little challenge that I "made" @Danceinsilence do...

well, actually he was in the race before I even finish the first word.

The first part is what I started at and the second part is his.

All written in flustrating 3 minutes... I wanted 7 ;)

Writing is a funny thing. There are moments where it is a meditation, a prayer, simple as breathing— deep and complete— to clear the conscious for the next day's sensory onslaught. At other times, it's a record, a document— a multi-faceted snapshot— pocketed for later to avoid Memory's insidious hide-n-seek. And at it's best, it's an orchestration of Thought— a map. Sense leading the senseless to the source of Art, by mere suggestion and shared illusion, so that we might all be disabused of Ourselves— our hands and faces pressed against an ice cold reflective glass. Writing is like some unsought conquest, a brain game, to which the intellect is challenged to the Death by the grinning mask of Life itself— with a toast and a jest. Though I may drag my feet, the gauntlet is mine, and I am inexplicably called to pick up the fight, no matter the length or cause of my retreat. And we make gains from time to time— because writing always helps us, somehow, to individually and collectively survive amid the infinite cobwebs that are always crisscrossing our subconscious mind.

#WhyWrite #Challenge #Addendum