Tee_Hi
I write voraciously; these days, it's mostly for songs for my band, Urban Gypsies Music Group Chi... My Blog- http://illnspireu.blogspot.com
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I'm sorry
Written by Tee_Hi

My Apologies

I'm sorry I was never good enough for you,

that try as I might, I could never be the me

that you wanted.

I'm sorry I was never pretty enough,

never smart enough,

never talented enough,

never sexy enough.

I'm sorry you felt like you had to

beat "the dog shit" out of me

on a weekly basis.

I'm sorry your brains are

  now

    splattered

      upon

        the

          floor.

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I'm sorry
Written by Tee_Hi
My Apologies
I'm sorry I was never good enough for you,
that try as I might, I could never be the me
that you wanted.

I'm sorry I was never pretty enough,
never smart enough,
never talented enough,
never sexy enough.

I'm sorry you felt like you had to
beat "the dog shit" out of me
on a weekly basis.

I'm sorry your brains are
  now
    splattered
      upon
        the
          floor.
16
4
5
Juice
36 reads
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May the 4th is Star Wars Day. For this challenge write a micropoem in the point of view of any Star Wars character (Canon or Legends). Include the hashtags: #starwars, #maythefourth
Written by Tee_Hi in portal Micropoetry

A Poem, I Write

Master your fears, you must.

Never mind her great bust,

avoid attachments, you should.

Only then, fully good

you will be.

Yes, from fear, you must flee.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#starwars, #maythefourth

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May the 4th is Star Wars Day. For this challenge write a micropoem in the point of view of any Star Wars character (Canon or Legends). Include the hashtags: #starwars, #maythefourth
Written by Tee_Hi in portal Micropoetry
A Poem, I Write
Master your fears, you must.
Never mind her great bust,
avoid attachments, you should.
Only then, fully good
you will be.
Yes, from fear, you must flee.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
#starwars, #maythefourth
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Week 1: Define the word mungo without looking up the definition. The most creative answer will earn the prize!!
Written by Tee_Hi

Yes! Yes! This Could Actually Be IT!

MUNGO

n. That feeling of being neither hot nor cold - yet both at the same time - that one has when sick or ill.

ex. "I didn't know whether to put on some covers or turn on the fan. I had both the sweats AND the shivers. I had the flu and my mungo was in overdrive."

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Week 1: Define the word mungo without looking up the definition. The most creative answer will earn the prize!!
Written by Tee_Hi
Yes! Yes! This Could Actually Be IT!
MUNGO
n. That feeling of being neither hot nor cold - yet both at the same time - that one has when sick or ill.
ex. "I didn't know whether to put on some covers or turn on the fan. I had both the sweats AND the shivers. I had the flu and my mungo was in overdrive."
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Written by Tee_Hi in portal Fiction

Stupefying Saturday

I felt so weird when I woke up this morning. But I had no idea just how weird.

As is my habit, I kept my eyes closed upon awakening, just taking in the sounds of early morning. But everything was so lo-o-oud! I could hear my cell phone's digital clock ticking, but instead of soft little clicks, they sounded like gongs. I could hear the faucet dripping in the bathroom, far louder than it should have been, like hail hitting the side of my building. I could even hear the beating of the hearts of the three birds in the tree just outside of my window, the leaves thumping loudly against the branches on which they sat. And I could hear myself breathing, the breaths sounding like thunder as they exited my nose. Unable to enjoy my first few moments like usual, I opened my eyes and felt a wave of nausea pass. Everything was blurry, which wasn't unusual, since I am near-sighted, but this blurriness went beyond. And since when, I wondered, had I gone color-blind? Thinking I must still be dreaming, I rubbed one eye with my paw and- wait! My PAW? I panicked and closed my eyes, tight. After a moment, I peeked one orb open. Everything was the same. I looked down at myself and sure as shit, I was a dog. What the-? I couldn't make out the colors, but the markings looked just like the ones on my own dog, Hailey. I moaned and was horrified to hear a low growl emitting from my snout. My snout?! Oh, lord, I have a snout! Moaning...er, whining...I laid back and tried to think back to the night before. I'd gone bar-crawling with some friends and sure, I'd had plenty Hair of the Dog when I returned home, but surely that couldn't be the cause of this, could it?!

Oh my word! Another thought occurred to me. If I was Hailey, was she me?! I tried to call for her...me?...but it just came out as a howl and I quickly snapped my mouth shut. I told myself that I had to think of something and thank goodness I still seemed to have my human logic and thinking abilities.

As I lay there thinking, I also took note of my other heightened senses, which I couldn't have ignored if I'd wanted to.

While my vision seemed to have taken a different form, if not decreased even further, all my other senses went beyond how I imagined them when I watched Hailey follow her nose around as if it were a leash. I sniffed deeply and immediately sneezed. Oh, my heavens! I could smell EVERYthing! The worms lying in the nest of the birds I was listening to just a while ago, the drops of perfume I'd spilled on the dresser and failed to clean up the night before; hell, I could even smell the boogers in my nose. Ew.

Well, I thought, after a while... Maybe this won't be too bad. I mean, how many times had I looked at Hailey with jealousy at the cushy life she leads, being waited on hand and foot. Now it was MY turn to bask in the love of a great owner...Oh, crap. But what kind of owner could Hailey possibly be?! I'd probably starve to death, waiting on her to figure things out! Sure, she'd observed me literally hundreds of times in the kitchen, but watching is far different from doing.

Speaking of Hailey, I wondered once again where she was...Maybe she couldn't figure out how to walk on two legs... Hmmm. I wondered if I can walk on four! Just as I was trying to climb out of bed, she entered the bedroom.

She had on my favorite dress, but it was backwards and only covered her head and one shoulder. The rest of me...her?...was naked. And...why were my houseshoes in her MOUTH! I facepalmed...er, facepawed myself and thought, Oh, my God...or should that be 'Oh, my dog?!"

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Written by Tee_Hi in portal Fiction
Stupefying Saturday
I felt so weird when I woke up this morning. But I had no idea just how weird.

As is my habit, I kept my eyes closed upon awakening, just taking in the sounds of early morning. But everything was so lo-o-oud! I could hear my cell phone's digital clock ticking, but instead of soft little clicks, they sounded like gongs. I could hear the faucet dripping in the bathroom, far louder than it should have been, like hail hitting the side of my building. I could even hear the beating of the hearts of the three birds in the tree just outside of my window, the leaves thumping loudly against the branches on which they sat. And I could hear myself breathing, the breaths sounding like thunder as they exited my nose. Unable to enjoy my first few moments like usual, I opened my eyes and felt a wave of nausea pass. Everything was blurry, which wasn't unusual, since I am near-sighted, but this blurriness went beyond. And since when, I wondered, had I gone color-blind? Thinking I must still be dreaming, I rubbed one eye with my paw and- wait! My PAW? I panicked and closed my eyes, tight. After a moment, I peeked one orb open. Everything was the same. I looked down at myself and sure as shit, I was a dog. What the-? I couldn't make out the colors, but the markings looked just like the ones on my own dog, Hailey. I moaned and was horrified to hear a low growl emitting from my snout. My snout?! Oh, lord, I have a snout! Moaning...er, whining...I laid back and tried to think back to the night before. I'd gone bar-crawling with some friends and sure, I'd had plenty Hair of the Dog when I returned home, but surely that couldn't be the cause of this, could it?!

Oh my word! Another thought occurred to me. If I was Hailey, was she me?! I tried to call for her...me?...but it just came out as a howl and I quickly snapped my mouth shut. I told myself that I had to think of something and thank goodness I still seemed to have my human logic and thinking abilities.

As I lay there thinking, I also took note of my other heightened senses, which I couldn't have ignored if I'd wanted to.

While my vision seemed to have taken a different form, if not decreased even further, all my other senses went beyond how I imagined them when I watched Hailey follow her nose around as if it were a leash. I sniffed deeply and immediately sneezed. Oh, my heavens! I could smell EVERYthing! The worms lying in the nest of the birds I was listening to just a while ago, the drops of perfume I'd spilled on the dresser and failed to clean up the night before; hell, I could even smell the boogers in my nose. Ew.

Well, I thought, after a while... Maybe this won't be too bad. I mean, how many times had I looked at Hailey with jealousy at the cushy life she leads, being waited on hand and foot. Now it was MY turn to bask in the love of a great owner...Oh, crap. But what kind of owner could Hailey possibly be?! I'd probably starve to death, waiting on her to figure things out! Sure, she'd observed me literally hundreds of times in the kitchen, but watching is far different from doing.

Speaking of Hailey, I wondered once again where she was...Maybe she couldn't figure out how to walk on two legs... Hmmm. I wondered if I can walk on four! Just as I was trying to climb out of bed, she entered the bedroom.

She had on my favorite dress, but it was backwards and only covered her head and one shoulder. The rest of me...her?...was naked. And...why were my houseshoes in her MOUTH! I facepalmed...er, facepawed myself and thought, Oh, my God...or should that be 'Oh, my dog?!"
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To celebrate the release of my new book, I am inviting you all to participate in a contest. The concept: Explore a person's struggle to come to terms with a strange, sinister, or surreal reality. This is a broad theme to encourage you to be as creative as you choose. Flash and full length stories welcome in horror, fantasy, surreal, or any hybrid genres. The only rule: Prose fiction only. Three winners will be chosen, who will receive 2000, 1000, or 500 coins + a signed copy of my collection.
Written by Tee_Hi in portal Fiction

Double 0s

There SHOULD be breasts here, I think again, as I touch my upper chest, now flat as a board. But no, breast cancer came in like a mercenary and had no mercy, taking what was once my best feature.

As I undress to ready for my shower, I think of the perfect melons that I used to have. Double Ds and amazingly perky, when they very well could have been so saggy, like my grandmother's, who could damn near hook hers under her belt. No, mine were svelte and round, sitting on my chest like two perfect sentries, surveying all whom they may conquer. And boy, did they conquer! Many men fell under my spell - old, young, black, white; hell, even the gays couldn't help but admire them.

And now they are gone! I feel the wetness on my cheeks and realize that I am once again crying over my loss. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" I yell; I refuse to cry! So instead I pound pound pound my hand against the bathroom wall until it's numb, perhaps broken, but I don't care, because now I am broken. Now, I no longer have my badges of womanhood. Now, I can no longer get out off parking tickets or get free drinks at my favorite bar. Now, I can no longer wear those cute halter tops, basking in the attention my twins used to award me with.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I can get reconstructive surgery, but they won't be MINE, dammit! I spent YEARS building them up! I even did that funny exercise with my friends when I was young, the one Judy Blume taught us about in 'Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret'. We'd sit in a circle in one of our bedrooms, chanting our mantra - "We must, we must, we must increase our busts!" - while bringing our bent arms forwards and back over and over again. I don't know for sure, of course, if that did the trick, but my mams sure were marvelous!

And now the are gone! I look at where a mirror used to be, before I smashed it and all the others, the better to never again see my lacking chest... Dammit, that felt good, smashing them all to smithereens. I wish I could do the same to that fuckin' cancer!

But I cannot. All I can do is think about how much I've lost. About how Brad left, with some lame excuse ending in "It's not you, it's me". Bullshit. It was all me. And what I could no longer provide him... God, he used to love my boobs, stroking them with just the right touch, softly rubbing on my nipples, feeling them hardening and-

No! I will NOT think about that! Fuck Brad and the horse he rode in on!..or his "horse" that I used to ride every other morning... No! Get a grip, Rachel, I tell myself. We do NOT want to think about that douche-bag anymore!

The water is running, but I can't bring myself to get in. I can't touch the scars that mark where my womanhood was torn away from me. I just can't... I just can't. So instead, I just sit on the bathroom floor and cry and cry and cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neither myself nor anyone in my family (that I know of) have had to deal with this atrocious disease, but I imagine this' exactly how I'd react, if not worse, should that ever come my way.

With that being said, I also want this to work as my stand in solidarity for those who have suffered.

10
4
10
Juice
43 reads
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Juice
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To celebrate the release of my new book, I am inviting you all to participate in a contest. The concept: Explore a person's struggle to come to terms with a strange, sinister, or surreal reality. This is a broad theme to encourage you to be as creative as you choose. Flash and full length stories welcome in horror, fantasy, surreal, or any hybrid genres. The only rule: Prose fiction only. Three winners will be chosen, who will receive 2000, 1000, or 500 coins + a signed copy of my collection.
Written by Tee_Hi in portal Fiction
Double 0s
There SHOULD be breasts here, I think again, as I touch my upper chest, now flat as a board. But no, breast cancer came in like a mercenary and had no mercy, taking what was once my best feature.

As I undress to ready for my shower, I think of the perfect melons that I used to have. Double Ds and amazingly perky, when they very well could have been so saggy, like my grandmother's, who could damn near hook hers under her belt. No, mine were svelte and round, sitting on my chest like two perfect sentries, surveying all whom they may conquer. And boy, did they conquer! Many men fell under my spell - old, young, black, white; hell, even the gays couldn't help but admire them.

And now they are gone! I feel the wetness on my cheeks and realize that I am once again crying over my loss. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" I yell; I refuse to cry! So instead I pound pound pound my hand against the bathroom wall until it's numb, perhaps broken, but I don't care, because now I am broken. Now, I no longer have my badges of womanhood. Now, I can no longer get out off parking tickets or get free drinks at my favorite bar. Now, I can no longer wear those cute halter tops, basking in the attention my twins used to award me with.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I can get reconstructive surgery, but they won't be MINE, dammit! I spent YEARS building them up! I even did that funny exercise with my friends when I was young, the one Judy Blume taught us about in 'Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret'. We'd sit in a circle in one of our bedrooms, chanting our mantra - "We must, we must, we must increase our busts!" - while bringing our bent arms forwards and back over and over again. I don't know for sure, of course, if that did the trick, but my mams sure were marvelous!

And now the are gone! I look at where a mirror used to be, before I smashed it and all the others, the better to never again see my lacking chest... Dammit, that felt good, smashing them all to smithereens. I wish I could do the same to that fuckin' cancer!

But I cannot. All I can do is think about how much I've lost. About how Brad left, with some lame excuse ending in "It's not you, it's me". Bullshit. It was all me. And what I could no longer provide him... God, he used to love my boobs, stroking them with just the right touch, softly rubbing on my nipples, feeling them hardening and-

No! I will NOT think about that! Fuck Brad and the horse he rode in on!..or his "horse" that I used to ride every other morning... No! Get a grip, Rachel, I tell myself. We do NOT want to think about that douche-bag anymore!

The water is running, but I can't bring myself to get in. I can't touch the scars that mark where my womanhood was torn away from me. I just can't... I just can't. So instead, I just sit on the bathroom floor and cry and cry and cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neither myself nor anyone in my family (that I know of) have had to deal with this atrocious disease, but I imagine this' exactly how I'd react, if not worse, should that ever come my way.

With that being said, I also want this to work as my stand in solidarity for those who have suffered.
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Write a set of three haikus that follow an individual falling in love. The three stages are: Falling in love, Being in love, and Falling out of Love. Be creative, bold, and unforgiving. Best of luck! Tag me in your post, I really want to read your ideas.
Written by Tee_Hi in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Yes, More Yes, and No

Deeper, deeper; I

drown in the essence of you.

Love pulls me under.

Brighter are my days,

wider are my smiles, my love,

for I am at peace.

Deeper, deeper; I

crawl into my shell, away

from all that was us.

17
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Write a set of three haikus that follow an individual falling in love. The three stages are: Falling in love, Being in love, and Falling out of Love. Be creative, bold, and unforgiving. Best of luck! Tag me in your post, I really want to read your ideas.
Written by Tee_Hi in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Yes, More Yes, and No
Deeper, deeper; I
drown in the essence of you.
Love pulls me under.

Brighter are my days,
wider are my smiles, my love,
for I am at peace.

Deeper, deeper; I
crawl into my shell, away
from all that was us.
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I'm giving you the power! Choose 10 random words and change the spelling to how you would like it to be spelled. Write it like so (original - new)! Can't wait to see what you guys come up with!
Written by Tee_Hi

I Nose How 2 Spel

handkerchief    haynkercheef

cemetery     symitairee

rhythm      rithum

pharaoh     fairo

ecstasy     extasee 

thought     thawt

jeopardy     jepperdee 

asthma     azzma

zucchini     zookeenee

writing     ryting

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I'm giving you the power! Choose 10 random words and change the spelling to how you would like it to be spelled. Write it like so (original - new)! Can't wait to see what you guys come up with!
Written by Tee_Hi
I Nose How 2 Spel
handkerchief    haynkercheef

cemetery     symitairee

rhythm      rithum

pharaoh     fairo

ecstasy     extasee 

thought     thawt

jeopardy     jepperdee 

asthma     azzma

zucchini     zookeenee

writing     ryting
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Day 4: Define boffola without looking up the definition. If you already know it more power to you!
Written by Tee_Hi

Yeah; It Totally COULD Be This One (Not!)

Boffola

(noun) A member of the mob who's always getting his butt kicked, rather than doing the kicking.

example: "Jerry ain't no goodfella! He's definitely a boffola, much as he gets his ass whooped!"

  *can also be used as a verb -- "Did you see Sam get soundly boffola'd?!"

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Day 4: Define boffola without looking up the definition. If you already know it more power to you!
Written by Tee_Hi
Yeah; It Totally COULD Be This One (Not!)
Boffola
(noun) A member of the mob who's always getting his butt kicked, rather than doing the kicking.
example: "Jerry ain't no goodfella! He's definitely a boffola, much as he gets his ass whooped!"
  *can also be used as a verb -- "Did you see Sam get soundly boffola'd?!"
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Tell a story through a list: 1) It can be broken by numbers or bullet points or commas or something else. 2) It can be a collection or sequence or whatever you want. 3) Winner gets 50 coins.
Written by Tee_Hi

Looking For Love in All the Wrong Places

- Bob, when she's 13, in her bedroom, covered in pink, the pussy bleeds

- John, 16, in his bedroom, covered with poster girls

 *repeat 2x, until he dumps her for another girl

- Brad, 18, in her dorm room, while roomie sleeps

 *every night until she leaves him for...

- Henry, 19, in his dorm room, while roomie secretly watches

 *2x a week, until he gets kicked out of school

- Michael, 22, in a dingy motel room, first blowjob

 *he didn't call

- Phillip and Paul, 22, in a different motel room, first three-way

- Can't remember name, 22, in a dark alley, in exchange for heroin

- More names, unremembered, 22-25, various locations, usually strung-out

- John (a different one), 26, another motel room, first foray into BDSM

- Steven, 26, back to the alley, in exchange for heroin

 *2x a week, until she "quits"

- Monte, 27, first interracial fuck

- Tim and Theodore, 27, their place, another three-way

- Tiffany, 28, in a nice hotel, first same-sex encounter

- Wanda and Robert, 28, their place, another three-way

 *repeat 3x, until Wanda gets too jealous

- Sylvester, 29, in a van, exchanged for heroin

 *repeat 12x, until thrown in jail

- Marie, Stella, Connie, that redhead, 2 unnamed guards, 30, in her jail cell

- Matthew, 30, in a halfway house

 *repeat 2x, then he confesses he has...

- AIDS, 35, alone in the bathroom, last masturbation, last breath

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Tell a story through a list: 1) It can be broken by numbers or bullet points or commas or something else. 2) It can be a collection or sequence or whatever you want. 3) Winner gets 50 coins.
Written by Tee_Hi
Looking For Love in All the Wrong Places
- Bob, when she's 13, in her bedroom, covered in pink, the pussy bleeds

- John, 16, in his bedroom, covered with poster girls
 *repeat 2x, until he dumps her for another girl

- Brad, 18, in her dorm room, while roomie sleeps
 *every night until she leaves him for...

- Henry, 19, in his dorm room, while roomie secretly watches
 *2x a week, until he gets kicked out of school

- Michael, 22, in a dingy motel room, first blowjob
 *he didn't call

- Phillip and Paul, 22, in a different motel room, first three-way

- Can't remember name, 22, in a dark alley, in exchange for heroin

- More names, unremembered, 22-25, various locations, usually strung-out

- John (a different one), 26, another motel room, first foray into BDSM

- Steven, 26, back to the alley, in exchange for heroin
 *2x a week, until she "quits"

- Monte, 27, first interracial fuck

- Tim and Theodore, 27, their place, another three-way

- Tiffany, 28, in a nice hotel, first same-sex encounter

- Wanda and Robert, 28, their place, another three-way
 *repeat 3x, until Wanda gets too jealous

- Sylvester, 29, in a van, exchanged for heroin
 *repeat 12x, until thrown in jail

- Marie, Stella, Connie, that redhead, 2 unnamed guards, 30, in her jail cell

- Matthew, 30, in a halfway house
 *repeat 2x, then he confesses he has...

- AIDS, 35, alone in the bathroom, last masturbation, last breath
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Write the funniest insult you can think of.
Written by Tee_Hi in portal Comedy

You Passed "Ugly" Miles Ago

You're so ugly, you look like you bounced around an ugly tree forest and hit every tree. Twice.

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Write the funniest insult you can think of.
Written by Tee_Hi in portal Comedy
You Passed "Ugly" Miles Ago
You're so ugly, you look like you bounced around an ugly tree forest and hit every tree. Twice.
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