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Written by Dark in portal Stream of Consciousness

A Remembrance

Ken was a beautiful young man; the guy all the girls wanted and the guy all the other guys wanted to be. He was tan, lean, and always laughing. He was short, but chiseled. His blond hair, blue eyes, and confident swagger got any girl into the sack in no time. That shit came easy for Ken. What didn't come easy for Ken was life outside the bedroom or bathroom stall.

Ken never drank to excess, unlike me who only stopped when I could no longer lift my arms. Ken liked his cocaine, though, probably a little too much, but in those days too much was never enough. Ken's family had money. They owned a couple gas stations or something like that. He saw me playing my drums once, so went out that weekend and bought a huge set for himself. Ken took me flying with him once, and did a deliberate stall, so he would have to restart the engine with enough time to pull out of a free fall- fucking insane.

Ken blew his brains out two weeks later in his basement. I heard there was some gray matter on his drums.

The funeral service looked like the catwalk of some heroin chic modeling show, except with running mascara and tears. Some people wailed. Some people sniffled. Some looked like zombies in shock, and some had moments of all three.

I'm pretty sure I cried for Ken- all that misery festering beneath one of the the most perfect masks God had ever created. My buddies thought it was open season on distraught hotties. I recall I was sitting in a hard chair.

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Written by Dark in portal Stream of Consciousness
A Remembrance
Ken was a beautiful young man; the guy all the girls wanted and the guy all the other guys wanted to be. He was tan, lean, and always laughing. He was short, but chiseled. His blond hair, blue eyes, and confident swagger got any girl into the sack in no time. That shit came easy for Ken. What didn't come easy for Ken was life outside the bedroom or bathroom stall.

Ken never drank to excess, unlike me who only stopped when I could no longer lift my arms. Ken liked his cocaine, though, probably a little too much, but in those days too much was never enough. Ken's family had money. They owned a couple gas stations or something like that. He saw me playing my drums once, so went out that weekend and bought a huge set for himself. Ken took me flying with him once, and did a deliberate stall, so he would have to restart the engine with enough time to pull out of a free fall- fucking insane.

Ken blew his brains out two weeks later in his basement. I heard there was some gray matter on his drums.

The funeral service looked like the catwalk of some heroin chic modeling show, except with running mascara and tears. Some people wailed. Some people sniffled. Some looked like zombies in shock, and some had moments of all three.

I'm pretty sure I cried for Ken- all that misery festering beneath one of the the most perfect masks God had ever created. My buddies thought it was open season on distraught hotties. I recall I was sitting in a hard chair.
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According to a 2017 study done by me, stardustfalling (PhD in imagination, depression, and depressing poetry), "I'm fine" is the most commonly told lie in the world. Write about it, in any format you choose.
Written by sandflea68 in portal Stream of Consciousness

Fine Lies

Wailing at reality of tear strewn eyes,

immersed in barrage of uncharted waters,

duped by shadows looming over dreams,

thoughts of disaster tottering in skids.

pinpricks of pain coursing through veins.

isolated with whispers of utter dejection,

life sealed with molten wax, dripping as

thighs become numb and paralyzed,

fleeing from pending doom of mortality,

nose diving into endless pool of mud

pleading for heartbeat to flatten spikes

confronting faces of empty promises

sagging forward - impending death prevails

But “I am fine,” I proclaim, as I spurt down path

of my past, hoping I still can find who I am.

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According to a 2017 study done by me, stardustfalling (PhD in imagination, depression, and depressing poetry), "I'm fine" is the most commonly told lie in the world. Write about it, in any format you choose.
Written by sandflea68 in portal Stream of Consciousness
Fine Lies
Wailing at reality of tear strewn eyes,
immersed in barrage of uncharted waters,
duped by shadows looming over dreams,
thoughts of disaster tottering in skids.
pinpricks of pain coursing through veins.
isolated with whispers of utter dejection,
life sealed with molten wax, dripping as
thighs become numb and paralyzed,
fleeing from pending doom of mortality,
nose diving into endless pool of mud
pleading for heartbeat to flatten spikes
confronting faces of empty promises
sagging forward - impending death prevails
But “I am fine,” I proclaim, as I spurt down path
of my past, hoping I still can find who I am.

#challenge  #imfine 
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Written by stardustfalling in portal Stream of Consciousness

words fall

out of my mouth

they drift to the ground

and they don't make a sound

                                         -Pusher-Clear ft. Mothica 

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Written by stardustfalling in portal Stream of Consciousness
words fall
out of my mouth
they drift to the ground
and they don't make a sound
                                         -Pusher-Clear ft. Mothica 
#lyrics 
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Written by sloanerose in portal Stream of Consciousness

You're better than that

Stop please.

I know I don't deserve you but you deserve the world.

Don't poison yourself to poison the memory of me.

Please, my heart still knows yours, my mind still dwelling on you.

You said it yourself you can't swim so why drown yourself to forget the memories.

No matter what though, I'll still care, still remember.

It's impossible to forget my greatest love, let alone how I broke your heart (mine too.)

My throats closing up and it's hard to breathe but with everything weighing me down, I can't utter a sound to anyone, I can't even write well anymore.

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Written by sloanerose in portal Stream of Consciousness
You're better than that
Stop please.
I know I don't deserve you but you deserve the world.
Don't poison yourself to poison the memory of me.
Please, my heart still knows yours, my mind still dwelling on you.
You said it yourself you can't swim so why drown yourself to forget the memories.
No matter what though, I'll still care, still remember.
It's impossible to forget my greatest love, let alone how I broke your heart (mine too.)
My throats closing up and it's hard to breathe but with everything weighing me down, I can't utter a sound to anyone, I can't even write well anymore.
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According to a 2017 study done by me, stardustfalling (PhD in imagination, depression, and depressing poetry), "I'm fine" is the most commonly told lie in the world. Write about it, in any format you choose.
Written by bonimoni_ in portal Stream of Consciousness

"I'm Fine."

[Technically I've already posted this, but I'm new to this site and haven't quite figured out all of its quirks yet.]

"I'm fine."

My life is like the drought, now turned to floods - due to unforeseen abundance, my dam's cracks are showing through.

I was not prepared for this.

My walls, up for years keeping out the pain and the noise.

That somehow always found a way to filter through.

Like the ants that crawl through unseen cracks and are silently invading winning the battle but not the war; I am the house that crumbles with their march.

"I'm fine."

These words are unspoken, but my body language and eyes tell it to those around, "I'm fine. I'm good."

But the thoughts... the internal remains conflicted!

When will you see me!? When will you ask the real questions and the meaningful things? When will I not have to tiptoe around issues that I know most of you are too afraid to make yourself see?

These things were never meant to be taken on alone.

Life never was made that way. We were meant to do this together.

"I'm fine."

My outside - impenetrable, like the walls of Great Jericho

Will you have the perseverance and faith to see what's behind them and march until they come down?

Or, am I not worth that much of your time?

The truth is, it's a two-way street.

It's unfair for society to give us these questions, that no one's expected to truly answer. But that's okay. I've never been one for the old ways.

I'll break down these walls myself. I built them, and these crafter's hand will bring destruction to what they've built, because if you won't come to me - I'll just build the bridge to you.

"I'm...ready to have a conversation. Let's talk."

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According to a 2017 study done by me, stardustfalling (PhD in imagination, depression, and depressing poetry), "I'm fine" is the most commonly told lie in the world. Write about it, in any format you choose.
Written by bonimoni_ in portal Stream of Consciousness
"I'm Fine."
[Technically I've already posted this, but I'm new to this site and haven't quite figured out all of its quirks yet.]


"I'm fine."


My life is like the drought, now turned to floods - due to unforeseen abundance, my dam's cracks are showing through.

I was not prepared for this.

My walls, up for years keeping out the pain and the noise.
That somehow always found a way to filter through.

Like the ants that crawl through unseen cracks and are silently invading winning the battle but not the war; I am the house that crumbles with their march.


"I'm fine."


These words are unspoken, but my body language and eyes tell it to those around, "I'm fine. I'm good."

But the thoughts... the internal remains conflicted!

When will you see me!? When will you ask the real questions and the meaningful things? When will I not have to tiptoe around issues that I know most of you are too afraid to make yourself see?


These things were never meant to be taken on alone.


Life never was made that way. We were meant to do this together.


"I'm fine."


My outside - impenetrable, like the walls of Great Jericho
Will you have the perseverance and faith to see what's behind them and march until they come down?


Or, am I not worth that much of your time?


The truth is, it's a two-way street.

It's unfair for society to give us these questions, that no one's expected to truly answer. But that's okay. I've never been one for the old ways.

I'll break down these walls myself. I built them, and these crafter's hand will bring destruction to what they've built, because if you won't come to me - I'll just build the bridge to you.


"I'm...ready to have a conversation. Let's talk."




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Written by IsabellaM1125 in portal Stream of Consciousness

I Don't Know Where I Am Going With This Or Anything Else

Here's the thing:

I don't write

"important"

poetry.

You don't see

my name written

with the words

"influential"

"ground-breaking"

or anything like that

you don't see

my name written

anywhere,

unless I wrote it

myself

I don't write

about politics

or race relations

or gender bias

or finding God

or what it feels like

to be something

I've never been

but I write.

My words carry

no weight

they won't open

a door or a dialogue

they won't change

a mind or the world

they're meaningless

unimportant

to everyone

except to me

I don't know

what I want

out of my

writing

I don't know

what I want

out of life

or what I want

for breakfast

I don't know

if my voice

will ever be

heard outside

of my own

internal

monologue

or if my voice

will carry in a

crowded room

or if I even have

anything

worth saying.

I never memorized

famous poems

quoted popular

writers or

carried around

dog-eared copies

of anyone's

collected works

I don't follow

the meter or

the rhythm or

the rhyme or

the rules

which is to say

I guess I've always

done my own thing

in writing

and

in life

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Written by IsabellaM1125 in portal Stream of Consciousness
I Don't Know Where I Am Going With This Or Anything Else
Here's the thing:
I don't write
"important"
poetry.
You don't see
my name written
with the words
"influential"
"ground-breaking"
or anything like that
you don't see
my name written
anywhere,
unless I wrote it
myself
I don't write
about politics
or race relations
or gender bias
or finding God
or what it feels like
to be something
I've never been
but I write.
My words carry
no weight
they won't open
a door or a dialogue
they won't change
a mind or the world
they're meaningless
unimportant
to everyone
except to me
I don't know
what I want
out of my
writing
I don't know
what I want
out of life
or what I want
for breakfast
I don't know
if my voice
will ever be
heard outside
of my own
internal
monologue
or if my voice
will carry in a
crowded room
or if I even have
anything
worth saying.
I never memorized
famous poems
quoted popular
writers or
carried around
dog-eared copies
of anyone's
collected works
I don't follow
the meter or
the rhythm or
the rhyme or
the rules
which is to say
I guess I've always
done my own thing
in writing
and
in life
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According to a 2017 study done by me, stardustfalling (PhD in imagination, depression, and depressing poetry), "I'm fine" is the most commonly told lie in the world. Write about it, in any format you choose.
Written by AGirlHasNoName in portal Stream of Consciousness

If We Keep Saying This

We all know what it is.

The singularity of all pleasantries.

I'm fine.

No.

Listen.

If we keep saying this,

We're ruined.

The power of complacency,

Here.

Nurtured in repetition,

These words

I'm fine,

Have unbelievable capabilities.

You see, if

We keep saying this,

There will be no

Second chance.

That is, once

We convince ourselves it's true.

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According to a 2017 study done by me, stardustfalling (PhD in imagination, depression, and depressing poetry), "I'm fine" is the most commonly told lie in the world. Write about it, in any format you choose.
Written by AGirlHasNoName in portal Stream of Consciousness
If We Keep Saying This
We all know what it is.
The singularity of all pleasantries.
I'm fine.
No.
Listen.
If we keep saying this,
We're ruined.
The power of complacency,
Here.
Nurtured in repetition,
These words
I'm fine,
Have unbelievable capabilities.
You see, if
We keep saying this,
There will be no
Second chance.
That is, once
We convince ourselves it's true.





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Written by stardustfalling in portal Stream of Consciousness

just another insomniac and internet addict

there is no such thing as sleep

for even three hours a night

i would be proud

and as for the dark circles

no one sees me anyways

and none of it matters

except for the virtual reality 

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Written by stardustfalling in portal Stream of Consciousness
just another insomniac and internet addict
there is no such thing as sleep

for even three hours a night
i would be proud

and as for the dark circles
no one sees me anyways

and none of it matters
except for the virtual reality 
#nonfiction  #poetry  #culture  #insomnia  #opinion 
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According to a 2017 study done by me, stardustfalling (PhD in imagination, depression, and depressing poetry), "I'm fine" is the most commonly told lie in the world. Write about it, in any format you choose.
Written by stardustfalling in portal Stream of Consciousness

Lie Through Your Smiling Teeth

I'm fine!

See?

Don't you see me 

Laughing happily

With all my friends?

Don't you see me

Joking and smiling

Every single day?

Don't you see

How happy I am?

Really. 

I'm fine...

Or am I?

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According to a 2017 study done by me, stardustfalling (PhD in imagination, depression, and depressing poetry), "I'm fine" is the most commonly told lie in the world. Write about it, in any format you choose.
Written by stardustfalling in portal Stream of Consciousness
Lie Through Your Smiling Teeth
I'm fine!
See?
Don't you see me 
Laughing happily
With all my friends?
Don't you see me
Joking and smiling
Every single day?
Don't you see
How happy I am?
Really. 
I'm fine...



Or am I?
#poetry  #culture  #opinion  #imfine 
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Written by RubyPond in portal Stream of Consciousness

Lean Back and Float

Misted canopies highlighted in pink

roll over reflections as I softly sink

clutched in tranquility, thoughts moving swift

across vitreous waters I allow them to drift

Hope is falling somewhat shy of my grip

My safety raft from my hands has just slipped

And I'm frightened of course, I may simply drown

So I desperately reach and search for high ground

Eyes turned up to a powder blue sky

my spirits elevate and lift up on High

Deep solidity sheathes my trembling fears

My faith sealed tight and gleams with tears

For resting banks that pull me to pause

consider my gifts and my purpose, my cause

And as I touch bottom, feet to the ground

head above water and looking around

I wonder and test in amazement once more

lift my feet, lay back and float off the shore

And my lesson settles and that subtle yearn

to do by myself , drifts away while I learn

That the strength drawn, I  carry deep in my soul

and the Power that moves me, when I lose control

Is a matter of knowing and trusting the Hand

That keeps me afloat when I can no longer stand

(C) 2017 RubyPond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Written by RubyPond in portal Stream of Consciousness
Lean Back and Float
Misted canopies highlighted in pink
roll over reflections as I softly sink
clutched in tranquility, thoughts moving swift
across vitreous waters I allow them to drift
Hope is falling somewhat shy of my grip
My safety raft from my hands has just slipped
And I'm frightened of course, I may simply drown
So I desperately reach and search for high ground
Eyes turned up to a powder blue sky
my spirits elevate and lift up on High
Deep solidity sheathes my trembling fears
My faith sealed tight and gleams with tears
For resting banks that pull me to pause
consider my gifts and my purpose, my cause
And as I touch bottom, feet to the ground
head above water and looking around
I wonder and test in amazement once more
lift my feet, lay back and float off the shore
And my lesson settles and that subtle yearn
to do by myself , drifts away while I learn
That the strength drawn, I  carry deep in my soul
and the Power that moves me, when I lose control
Is a matter of knowing and trusting the Hand
That keeps me afloat when I can no longer stand





(C) 2017 RubyPond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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