The Pretext of Discrimination
Through a selective reality you perceive. The world in hues of colour, Not shades of grey, But you make it black and white. Foist not your beliefs on others, Nor dictate morality by your dictionary. Irony, plain irony; You contradict with your actions. Allow the varied colours to soar, Unrestricted by repression, Free from shades of grey, Live, and let live… Logen L. Many people are giving the pretext of religion to repress the rights of gay people. There are others fearing for their insecure manhood because of gay people.Sponsor ZUJI SG - MLOB Cannonball 300x250 Find Me The Best Priced...
The Red Mist of Nostalgia
This is a recount of a dream I once had. — I stood rooted to the cold concrete, entranced by what I saw. Before me were glowing red mists, swirling in a curious fashion. It gained momentum and slowly manifested into people I knew. At this point more than twenty of them faced me. Though, they still had the reddish quality of the mist, each were frozen into the mannerisms they were well-known for. He had his trademark smirk, she had her cheeky grin; another had his hand on his nose, as if he had been rubbing it previously; yet another had her left eyebrow raised in exasperation. I gazed on, appreciating the quirks of my friends. I thought about how they left a huge impact, even though some didn’t talk much to me. This is the funny quality of youth. Drama...
The Irony of You
Under the starry skies shall we lay for eternity. Calming acoustic sounds drift from the distance. It is upon the sands of time that we sit, listening to the whispering seas. Discussing the cosmos of life and death and as ever shall I appreciate your voice. As the cool zephyr sieves through your hair, like it does the palm trees, your ethereal face shan’t go unnoticed. And while we huddle for warmth, we draw our breaths as one. Thereon, eyes closed, your scent is adequate reassurance. With suddenness, I gasp; you are gone. Too bad. This is but a dream… Irony… Logen
Love is the Triumph of Imagination over Intelligence
Within my skull, your wretched name is etched. I am your slave, for though the name resounds endlessly, never do I dare speak it, in fear of letting slip my fiery passion. Your presence prompts my heart and mind to race. And all too soon, the heart triumphs every ounce of logic. Had I the opportunity I’d stare forever into your eyes, the windows to your soul. On the rare chance upon which I caught glimpses into you eyes, I witnessed swimming playfulness, coupled with humbled maturity. Ah, alas, this is but inconsequential, for the witness shall only be a witness for evermore… It is doubtful that you will ever say my name as if it were holy. With even more certainty and conviction, our gaze will never meet, so as to connect our souls as one. This I...
Blinded and Silenced
A dam brimming with tears, awaiting salvation. A shaver running against one’s eyes, dripping crimson. A sharpened hook slices the tongue; speech suspended. The torment of being blinded and silenced, While hearing the wails of inmates echoing off the cold concrete. Back within the asylum… the place I fear. Nobody notices that I’m no longer here. My impetus of hope now gone, what more is there to live for? Logen
Is It Wrong to Want to Feel Wanted?
I wrote this at school: At no fault of mine; why do you hate me so? Forsaken and feared; I am an animal in your eyes. I ask nothing of you but friendship. And in return, you renounce my name. I. A monster whose tears meander in the cold; A frightful experience indeed! -Logen I am having the Wednesday blues. The day began well but as it wore on I felt worse. After years of torment, I still get affected by the things people say. In my opinion, two things hurt the most; the truth and the anticipation of a bleak future. Both of which I happened to gain insight on. I hate returning to these feelings. While running on the treadmill, I pictured myself losing my footing and the momentum hurls me towards the concrete wall, shattering my skull. A tad bit melodramatic and...
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