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Literature Text
I am dying. I am dying and there's nothing I can do about it. I know this, but I refuse to believe that I will just fade away quietly: that when I'm gone and when those that knew me are gone, that there will be nothing more of me in existence. I want to be remembered; I want to make a mark. Is it not the human condition to desire this?
I feel that no matter what good thing I attempt to pursue, it takes me somewhere that I had never intended to be, and that much further from my goal. Every consequent step taking me further down a tangential path I never consciously made. I have two hands and a voice and the knowledge of how to use them, but I feel less and less that I am competent enough even to do that.
I don't desire fortune or fame, but at least profundity. I do desire to be a good person. I strive to be the best person that I can be, and I am not blind to the fact that I am clearly not achieving this goal. As each day passes, I feel myself sitting idly by as my potential slips and my window of opportunity closes a little more. I am dying. I am dying, and I need to do something about it.
I feel that no matter what good thing I attempt to pursue, it takes me somewhere that I had never intended to be, and that much further from my goal. Every consequent step taking me further down a tangential path I never consciously made. I have two hands and a voice and the knowledge of how to use them, but I feel less and less that I am competent enough even to do that.
I don't desire fortune or fame, but at least profundity. I do desire to be a good person. I strive to be the best person that I can be, and I am not blind to the fact that I am clearly not achieving this goal. As each day passes, I feel myself sitting idly by as my potential slips and my window of opportunity closes a little more. I am dying. I am dying, and I need to do something about it.
Literature
The World's Greatest Actor
The World’s Greatest Actor, now a father, prepared lunch for his three children. Humming to himself happily, he slathered pieces of bread with peanut butter and jelly. He put them each into individual plastic containers, then the containers into brightly coloured cloth bags along with plums and juice boxes. He wanted to make sure they ate healthy but enjoyed what they ate. He was rewarded with their smiles when his three children came running in. An elder girl in grade two, followed by a twin boy and girl who were in kindergarten, greeted him. He said good morning and picked them all up in a bear hug, kissing them each on the forehead.
Literature
My Winter Bride
Hush, my love
Not a word
Not a sound
Let me kiss your breath away
as I lay you to sleep in the frost covered ground.
I shall dress you in a wedding gown
of lilies so pure and white
Pleading my vows of love eternal
to you, my Winter bride.
Our wedding bed is covered
in a blanket of virgin snow
Stained only by the secrets
I have forced upon it now.
Sleep gently, my love
Not a whisper
Not a breath
Let me lie by your side
while I love you to death.
Literature
The old man in the park
There's an old man sitting on a bench in the park.
A scruffy dog by his feet, on his lips a witty remark.
Not a tooth in his mouth, but he smiles anyway.
And if you ask him why, this is what he will say:
“I have a song in my head, and a smile on my face.
I have lived a full life of both sorrow and grace.
I have love so plenty, and stories to share.
And I live my life without a worry or care.”
His wrinkles are a map of a long, lasting life.
Of hard work, three sons, and a now deceased wife.
His hearing may be bad, and his vision turning grey.
But if you ask him, this is what he will say:
“I have seen my share of wonders
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Just some thoughts:
No, I'm not actually terminal, not in an immediate sense lol
I scribbled out this little bit of prose one night, and I didn't know what to do with it. So I thought I'd share it with you.
Hopefully by the end of reading it, it doesn't seem like too much of a downer, but rather a place to start: an...impetus, so to speak
I like sharing my thoughts like this. You might expect to see more of these from me in the future
Cheers!
Featured here:
No, I'm not actually terminal, not in an immediate sense lol
I scribbled out this little bit of prose one night, and I didn't know what to do with it. So I thought I'd share it with you.
Hopefully by the end of reading it, it doesn't seem like too much of a downer, but rather a place to start: an...impetus, so to speak
I like sharing my thoughts like this. You might expect to see more of these from me in the future
Cheers!
Featured here:
Celebrating Diversity #31Once again I'm celebrating diversity! Last month I ventured into the Artisan Crafts gallery to find some pretty epic pieces of work. This month I'm wandering into Literature - Prose. The idea behind this series of Articles is for us to step outside of our comfort zones, venture into places we usually ignore because we either don't have the time - or we don't understand them. For me, Literature is a great solace, and I too often forget to wander through the literature gallery here on deviantART. Let's rectify that right now...
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As one wise man once put it: there are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it. With a bit of humor and (self) irony, possibly, one could rather easily survive both. I also think there is no window of opportunity, it's illusionary and limiting in every sense to think that. Just pursue as long as your heart/soul tells you so