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February 16, 2019, 03:40:03 AM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti


Word of the Day
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Author Topic: Purpose  (Read 180 times)
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« on: August 24, 2018, 06:37:15 AM »

My inner me itches and tumbles everytime the clock ticks and marks the hour and I don't have the job finished and done. I mess my hair in despair, there are so many outstanding things and so little time. And so many distractions. I want to push all that feelings away, maybe pour them into a text, but I can't even commit to a 10 minutes writing routine. I put my face on my hands, rub vigorously until my mind burns and I see red all over. I breathe, I fill my lungs, first the air seems hot, then it cools and pours inside and every muscle and every nerve swims into a nice cool pool of ease and serenity. I stretch my limbs, stand up from the chair, every window is aglow with the light of the end of the summer sun, late in the evening, an orange and pink kiss of the sun to the sea. I grab a book and walk down the stairs to the street. I smile to my neighbors, I stroll to the sea, feeling the pinning of the salty breeze in the skin, taking away the sweat, taking away all this foolishness. I sit on the bench, the stillness of the stone below me, open the book, I look into the sea, an infinite continuum of paths that are always open, that need to be opened, the sirens' call, the travels of Ulisses, the infinite and beyond.
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« Reply #1 on: August 24, 2018, 12:56:58 PM »

I can definitely relate to this.
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« Reply #2 on: August 24, 2018, 07:25:20 PM »

Excellent read.
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