the-poetic-spirit

I’m an old soul to ancient who sees simplicity.
What create you distraction to be lost.
Simply stay at your hearts young ones.
Don’t get lost in the fabric of time.
This new era ain’t that different from the old.
Tap into your core of souls, let it swirl out to bloom.

I remember when I thought all the stars lined up for us. I remember thinking that the universe had finally brought me something good, something sweet, Something so beautiful that it was to be treasured. How could I argue with something that felt so natural, free, and breath taking; I couldn’t. I wanted more and more. Your love, your affection, your attention, it was a drug. A drug that slipped into my veins and filled my heart with enchantment. It felt magical, but you were just the poisoned apple that had fallen from the witches basket.

    I’m not here to reminisce, and tell you that I thought you were the one. Although the months that could be added up to years felt like an epoch in my life. I’m here to let you know that my smile is more radiant, my eyes shine just a tad bit more, and my walk is more confident. It’s not because I don’t miss you. Every time a memory of us runs through my mind I feel my heart long for you. It’s because I’m moving on.

    I can already tell a difference. Your voice doesn’t run through my mind, and your smile doesn’t show up nearly as much when I think of the word ‘happiness’. Tears don’t fill up my eyes when I begin to think of your touch upon my skin.
One day I’ll look over my shoulder and see my husband, smile, and then tell my kids that even though love at first sight is possible a love that someone works for is even better. I’ll take a step back, look at all that I have to be happy about in life, and hope that you’ve found the same.

    I know that one day I will cross your mind and you’ll get the urge to see how I’m doing. You’ll probably miss me, or realize that leaving and not fighting for what we had was a mistake. It’ll probably take you weeks or months to get the courage to ask me how I’ve been. By that time all the courage you built up will have been a waste, because A heart that once desired you will be the same heart that has the strength to never let you in again.

    These are words I have written, that you’ll probably never see. Just know I’m no longer under your spell. I’m not loving you most, or dreaming of you more. I don’t look at my hand and feel like yours is supposed to be holding it. I don’t open my eyes and want to see your face anymore. I don’t look at things and think of how I want you by my side to see them too. I’m going to over come the havoc you cause my heart and spirit.

    When I get the thoughts that overwhelm me. The thoughts that tell me I’m not good enough, or when I start to convince myself that I was the one missing something, and that’s why things didn’t work out. I’ll remind myself it wasn’t me. It was you. You gave up. Not me. I’ll remind myself that I’m worthwhile. I’ll tell myself to be proud for being able to love someone so much, unconditionally. If I could love the wrong person that much, imagine how much I could love the right person.

    I’ll always remember you were just a good guy that did bad things.

— 

BY: http://for-the-love-of-being-unsteady.tumblr.com/

name: Audrey K.

To my first true love. A letter I’ve written but you’ll never see.

Hijacked

I fear my body is trying to hijack my life force.

It is forcing me to live mechanically, and not in a state of physical awareness where body and soul live in sync.

I will not allow it to do so!

I will fight for the freedom of my will, my soul, my spirit!

I will not let my body become the derogator of my energy.

Hijacked ….. not I.

Midnight Whispers 

Midnight; and the whispers begin in wrought imagination. Veils   of shadows and darkening mist the semblance of spectral breath. . Midnight; and the silhouettes walk through the dispiteous nightmares. The undertones of despair, faint fragmented cries of the lost. . Midnight; and the raven skies fall, in foreboding melancholy and the aura of death. The ghosts wander, insomniac souls. . Midnight;…

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nyessagaming asked:

What style of outlining do you use? Bullet points? Nested lists? Timelines or maps? And do you prefer to do your outlining on paper or on screen? (I'm a big fan of different colored index cards for keeping track of multiple threads, personally.)

1) The first chapter introduces Fen’Harel to one of his future advisors; Nuven, who is an artist working on the renovations of Arlathan’s most important and historic bathhouse. She’s middle class and exists to show that there is a happy middle ground in Elvhenan between the bitter and downtrodden and the decadent rich.
a) He meets her only after breaking into the bathhouse to check on the progress of the murals. Use this as an opportunity for him to wax poetic about the rebellious spirit of modern youth.
b) Nuven’s defining personality traits are; hardworking, straightforward, good-hearted, but generally fearful of the gods, as to her they are mostly conceptual things heard only of in secondhand stories. It is not an immediate fear, but a distant concept that she should be afraid.
c) After she “kicks him out” of the bathhouse, he goes to meet Mythal in the palace in Arlathan – my impression was that there were many thrones for holding meetings about the separate city states, led by each god, since it seems to be implied each god had their own holdings and that wars between them were not uncommon.
d) The rest of his chapter establishes his relationship with Mythal (strained but friendly), and implies that he had some kind of tantrum after the way Falon’Din was handled that lead to him essentially declaring himself a hermit, but that shouldn’t be outright stated.

An example – I do color code highlight and have different colored texts that mean different things with a key at the top of the outline, but I prefer on screen – it’s easier for me to reference while writing.

Viber Of The Week!

She is a poetic, inspirational, Free spirit who will help You to release Your inhibitions when she bears her soul through her tongue. Transparently transcending the restrictions of “reality,” while verbally slapping You in the face with her reality. She is @_pamgrier , our Viber Of The Week. Check her out!

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