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Literature Text
it is not you
that is romantic
that drowns in sadness
that lives by swallowing hard pills
mushing them up in with your bones and
calling them down with your gravity
it isn't you
that black tar pit
that graveyard of stars
that digests and excretes
unconsciously picking truths from lies
memories from dreams
that unavoidable bias
you're not
the one that fights
the one that is powerless or
the one that was promised
you
are not
anything
decided
it
is the world
that is romantic
that drowns in sadness
that lives by swallowing hard pills
mushing them up in with your bones and
calling them down with your gravity
it isn't you
that black tar pit
that graveyard of stars
that digests and excretes
unconsciously picking truths from lies
memories from dreams
that unavoidable bias
you're not
the one that fights
the one that is powerless or
the one that was promised
you
are not
anything
decided
it
is the world
it is the heavens
and that's all.
NaPoWriMo Day 30
this month has been crazy.
this month has been very important to me.
this whole of 2018 so far has been perfectly pushing me
it all began here: so it begins ~my first work of 2018. until then I had about 37 written works on DA..!
now I have 150 poems uploaded. I also have more drawings, some photos, and three chapters of a Narrative Experiment I tried~ I love where I'm at -I mean, I love where the world is at
thank you for reading
and that's all.
NaPoWriMo Day 30
this month has been crazy.
this month has been very important to me.
this whole of 2018 so far has been perfectly pushing me
it all began here: so it begins ~my first work of 2018. until then I had about 37 written works on DA..!
now I have 150 poems uploaded. I also have more drawings, some photos, and three chapters of a Narrative Experiment I tried~ I love where I'm at -I mean, I love where the world is at
thank you for reading
© 2018 - 2024 Ladnavar
Comments6
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Interesting perspective. I've always wondered: to which part we are determined by the outside world? What is identity and does it even exist or are we just the random outcome of cumulated coincidents in any given moment, without any inner stability? I've had an identity disorder for most of my life and the concept of being a person, and not the outcome of cumulated coincidents seems sometimes strange to me, still.