
To the heart that can’t take it any longer,
And keeps wondering if it will survive.
Hang in there.
©ZeinaA.G
To the heart that can’t take it any longer,
And keeps wondering if it will survive.
Hang in there.
©ZeinaA.G
Today’s Word of the Day is Inky.
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Writing is like driving at night in the fog.
You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.
– E. L. Doctorow
Today is Day 208 of the 2020 Daily Writing Challenge.
Did you write yesterday? Half of the year is in our rear-view mirror, and I am drawing a line in the sand. The targets I missed, the stories I didn’t compose, they no longer matter. These last six months are history. Done. I won’t lie, 2020 kicked me in the head, leaving me stunned, unsteady, and incapable of completing anything beyond basic tasks. I bet I am not alone, but don’t count me out yet. They say what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right? I am confident I will discover I am more capable than I have ever been. I dug deep, reevaluated my annual goals, and I decided…
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It seems I am always writing. I have written in doctor offices, hospital rooms, coffee shops, during quiet time as babies napped, while standing in countless lines, waiting for a mechanic to fix my car, sitting with the family watching tv, cooking and eating dinner, and while I listen to blaring music. None of those situations impede my ability to concentrate on constructing sentences, forming paragraphs, and searching for unique word combinations. In fact, the more distractions, the more I write. My mind focuses to block the cacophony.
Reading, however, requires solitude and silence, and binge reading is my secret indulgence. Others might consider a spa day as self-care, but there is nothing I enjoy more than the luxury of reading a book from cover to cover. My idea of a glorious Saturday night is curling into my chair with a book. If I have selected wisely, I turn the…
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abandoned in haste ~ no one knows the reason why ~ there is no one left —© Lize Bard @ Haiku out of Africa
The Dubai Fountain
I miss you a lot, and it hurts a lot more ’cause I’m missing someone I never got to know.
All I can think of is how it ended up this way, and I can still hear you say, “I’m falling for you.”
I wonder what these words meant to you cause my heart was skipping a beat for as long as I remember, and I was starting to feel happy before you chose to surrender.
Love, Alyazya
is a part of me
forsaken
when my name
no longer sounds –
when photographs
are scattered
to the wind
when dates
are worn to nothing –
but a mark upon the stone
when the burden
of remembrance –
fails to mend
will there be the one
who wonders still
to places I was loved –
to find my words
a whisper saved
will there I love
again
. . .