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In this century of Doctors and Engineers I chose to become an artist,
I face all the looks that my everyone give when they come to know I'm doing arts,
I face every thought that states study is a tool to measure intelligence,
I face all the stereotypes, "Oh who studies in arts" "Isn't it just arts",
I face the interiority complex I get when my friend's mother ask her to maintain distance cos I'm in arts,
I face a question that where did I go wrong when people boast how their children got admission in Medical and IIT,
I wonder why not all parents with artists as their children boast,
I question why do I get made fun of when Arts as a subject isn't taken seriously,
I listen everything about artists that they're into all the wrong stuff and then check myself if I'm into any such thing,
I get a big no for singing at few places while all highly qualified jobs are seen with respect,
I face all the judgement that I must not be intelligent enough to get into any of "respectable" fields,
I wonder what is a respectable field other than being happy in whatever field you're in.

Tagging some artists I know hoping you all relate.

#writersofindia #kankshawrites #thoughts #quote #kankshaaaa #stories #poetry #wordswag #igwritersclub #writeaway #inspirationalquotes #wordsofwisdom #instawriters #wordporn #quotestagram #qotd #beautiful #instagood #instagramwriters #writerscommunity #instagramwriting #instawriter #igwriting #feels #poetryofinstagram #instagramwritingcommunity
Let's talk about it. In this century of Doctors and Engineers I chose to become an artist, I face all the looks that my everyone give when they come to know I'm doing arts, I face every thought that states study is a tool to measure intelligence, I face all the stereotypes, "Oh who studies in arts" "Isn't it just arts", I face the interiority complex I get when my friend's mother ask her to maintain distance cos I'm in arts, I face a question that where did I go wrong when people boast how their children got admission in Medical and IIT, I wonder why not all parents with artists as their children boast, I question why do I get made fun of when Arts as a subject isn't taken seriously, I listen everything about artists that they're into all the wrong stuff and then check myself if I'm into any such thing, I get a big no for singing at few places while all highly qualified jobs are seen with respect, I face all the judgement that I must not be intelligent enough to get into any of "respectable" fields, I wonder what is a respectable field other than being happy in whatever field you're in. Tagging some artists I know hoping you all relate. #writersofindia  #kankshawrites  #thoughts  #quote  #kankshaaaa  #stories  #poetry  #wordswag  #igwritersclub  #writeaway  #inspirationalquotes  #wordsofwisdom  #instawriters  #wordporn  #quotestagram  #qotd  #beautiful  #instagood  #instagramwriters  #writerscommunity  #instagramwriting  #instawriter  #igwriting  #feels  #poetryofinstagram  #instagramwritingcommunity 
#2Tones in action.
. Nov . 1 . 17 . 
Return to broken hearses
And lifted curses
Spells broken by the power
Of love and life
Springtime when blossoms 
Peak through trash to make
Way for the Son of Man
Make the crooked road straight.
.

But they would have none of it
All their armies and loans
Their system of turning people
Into rule obeying machines
Smothered in senseless work and taxes
He was too radical 
So they banished him to the cows
And drunks brought him whisky
At his birth 
Emmanuel 
God with us
Despised by our wealth and selfishness
I’m in love with you
I don’t know why I do the things I do
Forgive me and 
Let your kisses wake me from death .
.
.
.
.
.
#poem #poetry #christmas #Emmanuel #poet #igpoet #igpoems #igpoetssociety #poetrycommunity #poetryhive #poetrycorner #poetryisnotdead #poetrynorthwest #writing #writingcommunity #jesus #instagrampoets #wild #love #outside #god #instapoem #instapoet #instagood #instagramwritingcommunity
. Nov . 1 . 17 . Return to broken hearses And lifted curses Spells broken by the power Of love and life Springtime when blossoms Peak through trash to make Way for the Son of Man Make the crooked road straight. . But they would have none of it All their armies and loans Their system of turning people Into rule obeying machines Smothered in senseless work and taxes He was too radical So they banished him to the cows And drunks brought him whisky At his birth Emmanuel God with us Despised by our wealth and selfishness I’m in love with you I don’t know why I do the things I do Forgive me and Let your kisses wake me from death . . . . . . #poem  #poetry  #christmas  #Emmanuel  #poet  #igpoet  #igpoems  #igpoetssociety  #poetrycommunity  #poetryhive  #poetrycorner  #poetryisnotdead  #poetrynorthwest  #writing  #writingcommunity  #jesus  #instagrampoets  #wild  #love  #outside  #god  #instapoem  #instapoet  #instagood  #instagramwritingcommunity 
The sight was breath-taking
& so was I breathless

The sun was dipping & so was my heart

The sky was all hazy & so was my mind

The water was calm but there was a strange stillness in me

No matter how restless I was,
The world came to a halt when that view began to absorb my soul ;
It's emancipation had just begun.
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.
.

#instawriting #igwriter #writingprompts #creativepreneur #instagramwritings #instagramwritingcommunity #post59
For the love of Mountains...
Their reach - Immense
The whole aura - Mystical
Every breathe of air - Magnificent
Patches of Greenary- Resplendent
Feels -Descriptively  Unimaginable
.
.
.
(Just takes me back)
#instawriting #igwriter #writingprompts #creativepreneur #instagramwritings #instagramwritingcommunity
Repost from @the_bakerstreet_boy
Tag @writers.are.awesome in your post to get featured
My mind  like an engine, racing out of control, a rocket, tearing itself to pieces, trapped on the launch pad 🚀
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#poetryofinstagram #poetryporn #thoughts #feels #prompt #poemgasm #poetsofig #instagrampoetry #handwritten #paperandink #love #art #quotes #quote #life #writersofig #instapoet #artist #writerscommunity #instagood #quoteoftheday #writerwednesday #instagramwriting #igwriting #writersofinstragram #instagramwriters #igwriters #igwritingcommunity #igpoetscommunity #instagramwritingcommunity
_______________
Follow @writers.are.awesome to join the writers community ✒️📖
We have cool t-shirts & mugs for writers. Check the link in bio
Repost from @the_bakerstreet_boy Tag @writers.are.awesome in your post to get featured My mind like an engine, racing out of control, a rocket, tearing itself to pieces, trapped on the launch pad 🚀 . #poetryofinstagram  #poetryporn  #thoughts  #feels  #prompt  #poemgasm  #poetsofig  #instagrampoetry  #handwritten  #paperandink  #love  #art  #quotes  #quote  #life  #writersofig  #instapoet  #artist  #writerscommunity  #instagood  #quoteoftheday  #writerwednesday  #instagramwriting  #igwriting  #writersofinstragram  #instagramwriters  #igwriters  #igwritingcommunity  #igpoetscommunity  #instagramwritingcommunity  _______________ Follow @writers.are.awesome to join the writers community ✒️📖 We have cool t-shirts & mugs for writers. Check the link in bio
Dirt covering the scared body. Pondering, walking in shame with clippings of guilt tugging at a conscious mind.  Bed resides in the basement, up five in the morning. Having microwave spaghetti for breakfast. Fifty unread messages from women who want to be with an immense mind. The death of a beautiful psyche tragically ends with a birth of an ugly psyche  Various lifetime spendings on late nights and early morning mental feuds with a pencil and paper. 
Forever will be in the middle of a great predicament. 
Forever will be a bad color of the paintings.

Forever will be remember as the scared memory when the photo is seen.

Forever will be hated by the past, unknown in the future, but forgotten during the present moment.

Non-existing by the one track mind. Always off the course in mind. Therefore no accurate vision of the future.  blood thirst run of a lifetime for gold brings joy to the bystanders. 
Sativa on the mind, Indica on the body. High, but the body has no life. .
Dirt covering the scared body. Pondering, walking in shame with clippings of guilt tugging at a conscious mind. Bed resides in the basement, up five in the morning. Having microwave spaghetti for breakfast. Fifty unread messages from women who want to be with an immense mind. The death of a beautiful psyche tragically ends with a birth of an ugly psyche Various lifetime spendings on late nights and early morning mental feuds with a pencil and paper. Forever will be in the middle of a great predicament. Forever will be a bad color of the paintings. Forever will be remember as the scared memory when the photo is seen. Forever will be hated by the past, unknown in the future, but forgotten during the present moment. Non-existing by the one track mind. Always off the course in mind. Therefore no accurate vision of the future. blood thirst run of a lifetime for gold brings joy to the bystanders. Sativa on the mind, Indica on the body. High, but the body has no life. .
We are the only ones here.
The Keepers.

We don't let go,
We don't stay,
We don't hunt,
We don't slay.

We are the only ones here.
The Keepers.
.
.
.
#instawriting #igwriter #writingprompts #creativepreneur #instagramwritings #instagramwritingcommunity
Repost @mo.thepoet (@get_repost)
・・・
Take a moment and stare at yourself today! "Spontaneous Fascination "
November 15, 2017
#dailyprompt #beauty #thedailygriot 
#poet #poetrybymonique #blackpoet #blackpoetry #blackgirlmagic #writing #writer #poet #spilledink #writingwomen #poetrycommunity #instagramwriters #instagrampoetry #wordporn #instagramwritingcommunity
. Nov . 12 . 17 . 
Life child earth cub
New eyes 
Breathing gasping grasping 
Roaring rising falling failing 
Twisting writhing striving eating 
Washing in the river sleeping 
Dreaming of stars
By the light of them
Seeing past the physical
Caught up in the rhythm of 
The Spirit Creator
Singing humming rocking rushing 
Through trees and swift winds
Quietly careening caressing
Through canyons and ear canals alike
Speaking wonder and authority
Beauty and peace
Raw unadorned love
Love love love
Rising early spilling generously
Across the horizon eyes wincing 
Peeking peering at love 
Love love love
Roaring waterfall of love
Punching the heart drowning the past
Blind harmonious love sounds 
Unprejudiced bouncing off everyone 
Sleep soundly loved earth cub
Be bravely
Dream wildly
Let love crush death daily
Love achingly 
Bear all things patiently .
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PC: @maddinthenations #poem #poetry #poetryhive #poetrycommunity #instapoem #instapoet #poetryofinstagram #instagramwritingcommunity #writing #igpoet #igpoem #igpoetry #writetolive #woke #alive #pnw #oregon #oregonwriters #november #love #lovelovelove
. Nov . 12 . 17 . Life child earth cub New eyes Breathing gasping grasping Roaring rising falling failing Twisting writhing striving eating Washing in the river sleeping Dreaming of stars By the light of them Seeing past the physical Caught up in the rhythm of The Spirit Creator Singing humming rocking rushing Through trees and swift winds Quietly careening caressing Through canyons and ear canals alike Speaking wonder and authority Beauty and peace Raw unadorned love Love love love Rising early spilling generously Across the horizon eyes wincing Peeking peering at love Love love love Roaring waterfall of love Punching the heart drowning the past Blind harmonious love sounds Unprejudiced bouncing off everyone Sleep soundly loved earth cub Be bravely Dream wildly Let love crush death daily Love achingly Bear all things patiently . . . . . . PC: @maddinthenations #poem  #poetry  #poetryhive  #poetrycommunity  #instapoem  #instapoet  #poetryofinstagram  #instagramwritingcommunity  #writing  #igpoet  #igpoem  #igpoetry  #writetolive  #woke  #alive  #pnw  #oregon  #oregonwriters  #november  #love  #lovelovelove 
Delayed flight in Indonesia is an opportunity to edit a scene set in an airport (albeit a more comfortable one in Singapore).
Delayed flight in Indonesia is an opportunity to edit a scene set in an airport (albeit a more comfortable one in Singapore).
♡《block poetry 》♡
¿? QUESTION EVERYTHING¿?
"There is this world that brings you happiness and killing. If life required preparation, I wonder what happened? Perhaps my gift is to question God, and understand the world in his hands."
📚poetry page: @mo.thepoet📚
#blockpoetry #foundpoetry #foundpoem #poet #poetrybymonique #writing #writer #wordporn #poet #spilledink #writingwomen #poetrycommunity #instagramwriters #instagrampoetry #instagramwritingcommunity  #blackpoet #blackpoetry #blackgirlmagic #makeblackoutpoetry #blackoutpoem #blackoutpoetry #erasurepoetry #blackoutpoetrychallenges #blackoutpoetrytribe #blackoutpoetrygr
♡《block poetry 》♡ ¿? QUESTION EVERYTHING¿? "There is this world that brings you happiness and killing. If life required preparation, I wonder what happened? Perhaps my gift is to question God, and understand the world in his hands." 📚poetry page: @mo.thepoet📚 #blockpoetry  #foundpoetry  #foundpoem  #poet  #poetrybymonique  #writing  #writer  #wordporn  #poet  #spilledink  #writingwomen  #poetrycommunity  #instagramwriters  #instagrampoetry  #instagramwritingcommunity  #blackpoet  #blackpoetry  #blackgirlmagic  #makeblackoutpoetry  #blackoutpoem  #blackoutpoetry  #erasurepoetry  #blackoutpoetrychallenges  #blackoutpoetrytribe  #blackoutpoetrygr 
Amazing session from Junot Diaz on Hope and Resistance in Dystopia at Singapore Writers Festival.
•
“There is no abyss that we can’t figure out how to deepen.”
Amazing session from Junot Diaz on Hope and Resistance in Dystopia at Singapore Writers Festival. • “There is no abyss that we can’t figure out how to deepen.”
| C L O S E | 👉👉👉@love_is_life._._ 
@love_is_life._._ @love_is_life._._ @love_is_life._._ @love_is_life._._ @love_is_life._._ @love_is_life._._ @love_is_life._._ @love_is_life._._ @love_is_life._._ @love_is_life._._ @love_is_life._._ @love_is_life._._ 
#LOVE #loveofmylife
#loveislife #nightpost #instagramwritingcommunity #instagramwriters
#forInsatgrampeople #lovequotes #myworld
#lovedescriber #💖 By @avada_kedavra_ew 
@wordo_weirdo
“Without you
I was only with death
Sailing far from home
Alone 
Without you 
Each breath i take 
Burns my lungs 
Like hot embers 
You and me 
Against the world
We could be swept by inferno
Yet it feels like nirvana 
Cast to the cage of hell 
You took me above the clouds 
Above the water, you broke the spell

Where now shall we sail?”
~
Collaboration with the famous @britt_youri 😍🙌🏼💕 with the awesome art work of @ivan.zagusta ~~
@britt_youri Or “Rebel Britt” is someone i met during a poetry contest. I guess we naturally connected due to the fact we’re both Anti-Authority, Nonconformist. She told me:
“Being a rebel is the only way that I can be myself. 
Tell me not to do something and I will do it as many times over just let the world knows that they can't control every aspect of my life.
I talk to my dogs more than anyone else
A bit of OCD, I color coded my books and my wardrobe  and im obsessed with white. A closeted nerd” 
She’s a natural born leader, grouping together all the stars to burn out together..
~~~
Brought together through free-words, she invited me to curate @untwine.sg To help spread art through endless exposure of individualism for a page recognizing all art forms. Give it follow, use the hashtag #sgpoetry #sgartist #sgmusician For a chance to be featured and spread your message to the other side of the world! I’ll be checking personally. 😉
.
.
.
Art credited to: @ivan.zagusta ~~~~
#sgpoets #sgpoetry #spartist #instagramwritingcommunity #chrisamespoetry #creativewriting #spilledink #elfchen #dancewithkoala12 
#wordporn #igpoets #igwriters #inkedwords #tribeofpoets #wordsmith #koalawriterslam #writers #collaboration
“Without you I was only with death Sailing far from home Alone Without you Each breath i take Burns my lungs Like hot embers You and me Against the world We could be swept by inferno Yet it feels like nirvana Cast to the cage of hell You took me above the clouds Above the water, you broke the spell Where now shall we sail?” ~ Collaboration with the famous @britt_youri 😍🙌🏼💕 with the awesome art work of @ivan.zagusta ~~ @britt_youri Or “Rebel Britt” is someone i met during a poetry contest. I guess we naturally connected due to the fact we’re both Anti-Authority, Nonconformist. She told me: “Being a rebel is the only way that I can be myself. Tell me not to do something and I will do it as many times over just let the world knows that they can't control every aspect of my life. I talk to my dogs more than anyone else A bit of OCD, I color coded my books and my wardrobe  and im obsessed with white. A closeted nerd” She’s a natural born leader, grouping together all the stars to burn out together.. ~~~ Brought together through free-words, she invited me to curate @untwine.sg To help spread art through endless exposure of individualism for a page recognizing all art forms. Give it follow, use the hashtag #sgpoetry  #sgartist  #sgmusician  For a chance to be featured and spread your message to the other side of the world! I’ll be checking personally. 😉 . . . Art credited to: @ivan.zagusta ~~~~ #sgpoets  #sgpoetry  #spartist  #instagramwritingcommunity  #chrisamespoetry  #creativewriting  #spilledink  #elfchen  #dancewithkoala12  #wordporn  #igpoets  #igwriters  #inkedwords  #tribeofpoets  #wordsmith  #koalawriterslam  #writers  #collaboration 
The mono tone of the speaker will do... Allow me to fix this meal for your mental. Allow every Friday be your escape day and every Monday your prison day and every day in between is your decision. 
Wait... It was always your decision to make the bread and butter your meal down. Sweet potatoes with the steam of your main course enticing your mental. Don't throw cheese on the pasta, I'll add the alfredo of my sauce to your mac of life. Lets stir on the bed and bake under the sheets. Seven months later our meal has came and we'll enjoy our three course family meal forever.
The mono tone of the speaker will do... Allow me to fix this meal for your mental. Allow every Friday be your escape day and every Monday your prison day and every day in between is your decision. Wait... It was always your decision to make the bread and butter your meal down. Sweet potatoes with the steam of your main course enticing your mental. Don't throw cheese on the pasta, I'll add the alfredo of my sauce to your mac of life. Lets stir on the bed and bake under the sheets. Seven months later our meal has came and we'll enjoy our three course family meal forever.
Im a.... Little buzzed at the moment... So i'll drop words in sentences and spoke vibrations into existence while laid out on my king bed. Dreams becoming so realistic, felt the bite of pain in my hand by disappointment. 
Shakkan, the name is Shakkan, remember the name Shakkan. 
Shakkan has to say this... I remember when we sat on the porch at night and talk about the shape of the clouds with the moon and star lights sparkling over us. It was then I would reach my hand over your shoulders and pull you closer and the pleasing look in your eyes gazed at me with the strong sense of happiness surging through you heating your spirit up with the sticky sweet juices oozing from under as my fingers begin to creep deep into your sweet spot. 
The moment ends with a quick draw back of my hand. Your heart beating rapidly to the excitement of my warm touches, but it was months later when the stars stop sparkling and my touches became cold and soon none existent to your body. 
It's the life of a flower we learn our immense lessons from. How could you be in one spot and still grow to be so beautiful in importance of bigger existences? Through death of the of happy break up... Excuse me... The death of a relationship comes to be after a happy break up. I say, I say, I say, it's the flower in the pot as the standstill of the stem growing into the smile on your face after our brief respite. 
Growth never stops after the stunt of our growth in the relationship...
Im a.... Little buzzed at the moment... So i'll drop words in sentences and spoke vibrations into existence while laid out on my king bed. Dreams becoming so realistic, felt the bite of pain in my hand by disappointment. Shakkan, the name is Shakkan, remember the name Shakkan. Shakkan has to say this... I remember when we sat on the porch at night and talk about the shape of the clouds with the moon and star lights sparkling over us. It was then I would reach my hand over your shoulders and pull you closer and the pleasing look in your eyes gazed at me with the strong sense of happiness surging through you heating your spirit up with the sticky sweet juices oozing from under as my fingers begin to creep deep into your sweet spot. The moment ends with a quick draw back of my hand. Your heart beating rapidly to the excitement of my warm touches, but it was months later when the stars stop sparkling and my touches became cold and soon none existent to your body. It's the life of a flower we learn our immense lessons from. How could you be in one spot and still grow to be so beautiful in importance of bigger existences? Through death of the of happy break up... Excuse me... The death of a relationship comes to be after a happy break up. I say, I say, I say, it's the flower in the pot as the standstill of the stem growing into the smile on your face after our brief respite. Growth never stops after the stunt of our growth in the relationship...
At Singapore Writers Festival, I caught up with my Amazon Publishing colleague Kirstin Chen, author of Soy Sauce for Beginners. We were on a panel discussing ‘the Sophomore blues - the challenge of the second novel’. We’ll both have new releases in 2018.
At Singapore Writers Festival, I caught up with my Amazon Publishing colleague Kirstin Chen, author of Soy Sauce for Beginners. We were on a panel discussing ‘the Sophomore blues - the challenge of the second novel’. We’ll both have new releases in 2018.
Light as a feather with a golden tail something to give for show and tell. Much misunderstanding of the colors on the feather's trail. Not much included for an older deal/ drop out the mental and see the beauty on a larger scale. Possessions immense for blood on the hands, over see the under devine in cluster fields, open wounds and death over diamonds and gold chains.
Light as a feather with a golden tail something to give for show and tell. Much misunderstanding of the colors on the feather's trail. Not much included for an older deal/ drop out the mental and see the beauty on a larger scale. Possessions immense for blood on the hands, over see the under devine in cluster fields, open wounds and death over diamonds and gold chains.
Never lost in the system, found my hustle in the trenches, gain respect through my missions, smoked for my victory, rode through the city with the systematic seed planted in my brain with no memory of my past. What's the value of a rose without it's red petals? Dark statements misunderstood with no deep passion. 
She's laughing taking every word as a joke. Still childish in my mind's view of her mind's youth. so I quit the heart's pursuit and spoke the harsh truth. 
Threw aphorisms to her and she still couldn't catch the words of wisdom. 
Waste of precious time in the trenches with no desire to open her mind to the woke world outside. 
Laid in bed; slept the hopelessness away and hope to wake in the morning with a woman who is fully awake before day break. 
Sleep without losing your consciousness. 
What is in the silence of a dim lite room than the noise of a dark room?

Peace... She's a pessimist a negative minded actress in her rights.
Never lost in the system, found my hustle in the trenches, gain respect through my missions, smoked for my victory, rode through the city with the systematic seed planted in my brain with no memory of my past. What's the value of a rose without it's red petals? Dark statements misunderstood with no deep passion. She's laughing taking every word as a joke. Still childish in my mind's view of her mind's youth. so I quit the heart's pursuit and spoke the harsh truth. Threw aphorisms to her and she still couldn't catch the words of wisdom. Waste of precious time in the trenches with no desire to open her mind to the woke world outside. Laid in bed; slept the hopelessness away and hope to wake in the morning with a woman who is fully awake before day break. Sleep without losing your consciousness. What is in the silence of a dim lite room than the noise of a dark room? Peace... She's a pessimist a negative minded actress in her rights.
#FakeDeepDiaries Entry 3: 1:43pm; Friday 3rd November, 2017.

The Myth That Is Chance.

Chance is a term used to describe happenstance, that is, the event of a random occurrence. When I look at certain things, I see a pattern of randomness. These events occurring in a way that can't be traced to a root cause have made me develop the notion that Chance plays a key role in life.

But of late, I have come to discover a flaw in my thinking.

The odds of my meeting a friend who I haven't seen or spoken to in forever when taking a stroll could be minimal, but that friend had a mission which brought them towards me, and in the grand scheme of things, that meeting would have happened sooner or later.

A book I read recently, Essays In Love by Alain De Botton, showed how less of a role chance had to play in his (the author's) meeting with Chloe, with whom he fell in love. As overanalyzing as he seemed at times, all the conditions which led to their meeting was as a result of certain carefully designed patterns.

This is the dilemma.

Some of these patterns are recognisable, and some are not. It is those unrecognizable ones that I tend to fallaciously attribute to Chance.

As random as an event may seem, there is an underlying cause because we live in a world of cause and effect.

So how do I tell if Chance is really a thing, or just a concept by lazy thinkers who got tired of trying to work out patterns? How do I tell if Chance really is a thing in my life?

Help needed.

#Writer #write #writersofinstagram #instagramwritingcommunity #instawrite #instawriter #randomthoughts #olodowriter
#FakeDeepDiaries  Entry 3: 1:43pm; Friday 3rd November, 2017. The Myth That Is Chance. Chance is a term used to describe happenstance, that is, the event of a random occurrence. When I look at certain things, I see a pattern of randomness. These events occurring in a way that can't be traced to a root cause have made me develop the notion that Chance plays a key role in life. But of late, I have come to discover a flaw in my thinking. The odds of my meeting a friend who I haven't seen or spoken to in forever when taking a stroll could be minimal, but that friend had a mission which brought them towards me, and in the grand scheme of things, that meeting would have happened sooner or later. A book I read recently, Essays In Love by Alain De Botton, showed how less of a role chance had to play in his (the author's) meeting with Chloe, with whom he fell in love. As overanalyzing as he seemed at times, all the conditions which led to their meeting was as a result of certain carefully designed patterns. This is the dilemma. Some of these patterns are recognisable, and some are not. It is those unrecognizable ones that I tend to fallaciously attribute to Chance. As random as an event may seem, there is an underlying cause because we live in a world of cause and effect. So how do I tell if Chance is really a thing, or just a concept by lazy thinkers who got tired of trying to work out patterns? How do I tell if Chance really is a thing in my life? Help needed. #Writer  #write  #writersofinstagram  #instagramwritingcommunity  #instawrite  #instawriter  #randomthoughts  #olodowriter 
Off to an interview, downtown Singapore.
Off to an interview, downtown Singapore.
. Sep . 26 . 17 . 
Nothing can separate
The super glue 
That holds me to you 
To break away
Would take me with you .
.
.
.
.
PC: @shshpansky #poet #poetry #poem #poemsofinstagram #writing #quote #poetsofig #instapoem #instawriters #instagrampoetry #instagramwritingcommunity #instagood #igpoem #igpoet #igpoetry #pnw #friends #oregon #oregonwriters
. Sep . 18 . 17 . 
Endless endless smoke 
Swirling and dancing 
As the last whispers of driftwood 
Die back into cold 
All good things
Must run out 
But how beautiful 
Is death accepted.
.
.
.
.
PC: @maddinthenations #poem #poet #poetry #poetrycommunity #poetrynorthwest #instapoetry #instapoem #instagood #instapoet #instagrampoetry #instagramwritingcommunity #writing #pnw #oregon #campfires
#FakeDeepDiaries Entry 3: 9:46pm; Thursday 2nd November, 2017.

The Myth That Is Chance.

Chance is a term used to describe happenstance, that is, the event of a random occurrence. When I look at certain things, I see a pattern of randomness. These events occurring in a way that can't be traced to a root cause have made me develop the notion that Chance plays a key role in life.

But of late, I have come to discover a flaw in my thinking.

The odds of my meeting a friend who I haven't seen or spoken to in forever when taking a stroll could be minimal, but that friend had a mission which brought them towards me, and in the grand scheme of things, that meeting would have happened sooner or later.

A book I read recently, Essays In Love by Alain De Botton, showed how less of a role chance had to play in his (the author's) meeting with Chloe, with whom he fell in love. As overanalyzing as he seemed at times, all the conditions which led to their meeting was as a result of certain carefully designed patterns.

This is the dilemma.

Some of these patterns are recognisable, and some are not. It is those unrecognizable ones that I tend to fallaciously attribute to Chance.

As random as an event may seem, there is an underlying cause because we live in a world of cause and effect.

So how do I tell if Chance is really a thing, or just a concept by lazy thinkers who got tired of trying to work out patterns? How do I tell if Chance really is a thing in my life?

Help needed.

#Writer #write #writersofinstagram #instagramwritingcommunity #instawrite #instawriter #randomthoughts #olodowriter
#FakeDeepDiaries  Entry 3: 9:46pm; Thursday 2nd November, 2017. The Myth That Is Chance. Chance is a term used to describe happenstance, that is, the event of a random occurrence. When I look at certain things, I see a pattern of randomness. These events occurring in a way that can't be traced to a root cause have made me develop the notion that Chance plays a key role in life. But of late, I have come to discover a flaw in my thinking. The odds of my meeting a friend who I haven't seen or spoken to in forever when taking a stroll could be minimal, but that friend had a mission which brought them towards me, and in the grand scheme of things, that meeting would have happened sooner or later. A book I read recently, Essays In Love by Alain De Botton, showed how less of a role chance had to play in his (the author's) meeting with Chloe, with whom he fell in love. As overanalyzing as he seemed at times, all the conditions which led to their meeting was as a result of certain carefully designed patterns. This is the dilemma. Some of these patterns are recognisable, and some are not. It is those unrecognizable ones that I tend to fallaciously attribute to Chance. As random as an event may seem, there is an underlying cause because we live in a world of cause and effect. So how do I tell if Chance is really a thing, or just a concept by lazy thinkers who got tired of trying to work out patterns? How do I tell if Chance really is a thing in my life? Help needed. #Writer  #write  #writersofinstagram  #instagramwritingcommunity  #instawrite  #instawriter  #randomthoughts  #olodowriter 
Some people have a dog or a cat to stare at them while they’re writing. I have a husband 🤔
Some people have a dog or a cat to stare at them while they’re writing. I have a husband 🤔
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