The sheer sense of belief
Into the mundane manners
Has been a goblet of uncanny waters.
A red seems white,
While orange is blue.
And no tainted trails to follow.
False in the nearby eyes,
As if dreaming a childish dream,
With calls to grow up and see.
Well, it’s just the way it is.
Now that you have established me as a cyber-writer by reading and following me. A huge thanks to you. Really.
A friend of mine told me about this website where I could make some money out of pen. I really am digging the idea. Here’s one post I have done there. Please share the idea. Thanks a lot.
Here’s the link: http://www.patreon.com/posts/6556015
Here’s the latest novel I am writing lately on wattpad. Do give a read if possible. Thanks. The link’s below.
It’s interesting to admit that I stuck this long to this website. My past observations have given me liberty to admit that I get tired. This long consistency is astonishing to myself. Am I an introvert, psychotic, autistic, depressed, lone, and hopeless being or I’m just making these things up. I’m not sure for now. Advises are easy to give, and easy to follow, at least some of them are. I wish love and life to my well-wishers and WordPress and Twitter and Facebook and Dragon City and Lost Moments and De_stin_y. I thank my sister for keeping my head above the water. I thank my brother for keeping me up in the meddle. I thank my brother for making me feel breathing. I thank my mother for coping with this hopeless brat. I thank my father for his unsurpassable endurance and love. I thank CR for her concern. I thank TV for its constant presence. I thank Penny for his forever long companionship. I thank my luck for keeping me good in its bad. I thank this earth for not waiting for me to turn.
Thank you all for the support.
Live long and prosper.
And yeah one more thing, I thank my phone for giving me the eternity in the infinitesimal.
If it were something unsatisfactory, I’d have accepted it; but sanest things don’t seem to make sense anymore. My appetite has decreased, and my hideous heart feels vulnerable even after its treacherous past. God bless the needy, I don’t need anyone. Don’t pity me. Don’t make me break myself. Don’t make me the victim in need of sympathy.
Enough of the unlikable poetry! I’d just talk for today, and thanks already.
So the thing is, I have been writing 4 liners since July 27th and still counting, if I exclude the College-off day. Yes, it’s surprising that I write them in the classroom. I’d like to post ’em here, then I think I have wrote enough of the incomprehensible stuff. Therefore, I would like to discuss my matters, will that work? I don’t know, like this. Let me know, what do you think about it. Suggestions are welcomed. Thanks again.
Today was unanticipatingly well, except the part when a teacher showed me the door out of the class. I’d better not remember that. If I exclude that, rest was, again, extremely gleeful. Eyes are not hurting! Good sign. Anyway, enough of the miserable glee. Poetry is better.
Two is bigger,
Bigger is better;
But one is alone,
And lone’s lone.
~nothing can beat it at that!
People, I’ll not be available here for a while, therefore, take care of yourselves and keep your thinking hats on; because it’s better to be someone than no one.
Off I go.
Will see you soon.
This is Amir Flame.