Come out to the OC Zine Fest (@oczinefest) TOMORROW at the Anaheim Central Library (@anaheimlibrary) & buy a personalized #poem from me. All proceeds will go to DSTL Arts (@dstlarts) for our #Lowride4Lit Mobile Art Lab fundraiser. ✊🏽✏️🎨🚙
Gelly strolls around the evening park, as the sunset rolls down the hill.
"Ah, such peace." She says, strolling her purple hair and the blue rejoins with the pink. "Excuse me?" Says the little Girl Scout, with her usual pins around the ribbon. She had black hair, which was unusual, with pink cheeks and fuzzy blue eyes.
"Yes?" Said Gelly, not knowing what she needed.
" I wanted to say I love your hair, and I wish my hair becomes like yours some day."
Gelly smiled. "that's so sweet, shall I tell you secret?"
"Sure!" The little girl jumps!
"Whoever is different from the rest, is one of the special people chosen by god. There future will be filled with happiness and what they deserve." She picks a flower and puts it through her thick, back hair."Never feel left out through your looks, but be unique inside."
The little girl smiles so hard, her dimples show, and hugs her like it was the best thing she ever heard.
Kindness, Respect and Supporting could make one persons dream a achievement.
•deep in the Endless Forest
It is said that the words of life are already written. Past, present, and future cannot be veered off the path it is set on. The dawn of life fixed when and how everything will happen. Souls are just puppets fulfilling destiny’s needs. The strings of life have no master, the only ruler is instinct. And it is unforgiving……..Today is the 4th moon on my own. I have started to turn to the starry nights for comfort, only to be shunned away by the silence. But perhaps silence is what led the first elders into the forest. Without them, the forest would be forever alone. The only instrument I was given was my root. The Great Tree said it would be enough to guide me on my way. The path is hidden to me, covered with lost memories and void. At night I have dreams of a different life. I dreamt last night that I was lying under a full sky with no trees to block my sight. The air was open and cool, the bumps of my skin tingled as it crept up my spine. Bright objects fell from the sky at what seemed every moment but I knew there were only a few that fell. It felt so real. My sight, touch, and even smell was perfectly intact with me. The ground was damp and air fresh after a light rain. Why was the sky sad? It only seemed to rain in my dreams. I couldn’t remember the last the the sky wept. I sat up from the grass to realize I was in a sea of green as far as I could see. There were flares of red in the distance as if there were others. I knew it was a dream when I heard shouting in the distance. The only voice I’ve heard through my ears were my own for the past 1000 years or perhaps longer. I have no memory of the times when I laid eyes on another being...........
BLINDED ••• #cupofgrace
Formal Education opened our eyes to the world around us, but it didn't do us any justice, since it couldn't opened our eyes to who we are from within. (The wealth of potential hidden within us)
Our "knowledge" became our blindness. Our expertise became our limitation. Because you're more than just going to school to learn about cooking, and being restricted to cooking the rest of your life — focusing all of your energies on cooking. Society has made it look okay. We call it career job. Anyways, are you happy with your career job?. ___
So many people in this life struggles so much to shift gears, doing something they have passion for, instead of what certification has qualified them to be. It's like square pegs on round holes. Bag full of degrees and certificates, yet the soul is cold — Instead of blazing like a volcanic activity.
Look deep within yourself... you're more than what society has made you to believe about yourself. Education in itself is not wrong, it gives you the platform. It puts you on the pedestal, but you can expand your horizon, beyond the levels of your educational accomplishments. Don't limit yourself, wether you're educated or uneducated. @afro.ink
@Regrann from @sokbuku - Wounded Longing: Short Story Collection
Putu Oka Sukanta
Dari Rp. 25.000 menjadi Rp. 22.000
Putu Oka Sukanta is one of Indonesia’s few writer to grapple with such crucial questions. The richly textured stories in “Wounded Longing” show us the humanity behind the headlines, the emotional lanscape of those strugling to endure political violence, state tyranny and the grinding pain of everyday life in cultures fractured by gender discrimination and relenless poverty.
Putu Oka Sukanta’s works hold a special place in Indonesia’s literatury hidytory for their strikingly realistic depictions of the lives of the oppressed. His characters are not powerless victims of circulstances, but complex humans, honest in their efforts to survive, caught up current of history that they themselves do not always understand. Whether writing about a political prisoner returning to hir village after the mass violence of 1965, a sex worker for whom madness becomes the only language of resistance, a man who finda in his daughter’s birth a painful poetry on inequality, or a farmer cheated by his hopes that tourism can lift his family out of hardship, Putu Oka Sukanta weaves empathy into his words in a way that leaves the reader profoundly touched. Finely crafted and depply moving “Wounded Longing” is essential reading for those seeking to understand Indonesia’past and to help heal its hurta for the future.
Degung Santikarma, Editor in Chief, Latitudes Magazine.
#bookstagram#bookshop#books#book#jualbuku#jual#buku#sastra#literature#prose#cerpen#shortstory#indonesia#history#bali#putuoka#farmers#local#poverty#filsafat#philosophy#politics#politik - #regrann
all my light.
▴photo by the amazing @_katerinaplotnikova_ ▴wild is she • pre order august 2017
▴wilder poetry is rooted by words and curated to inspire
▴view the wilder feed to experience the visual story
▴the original grid poetry account
#wilderpoetry • @wilderpoetry
Someone way outside of your zone of interests shows interest towards you on an online dating site, and you find him/her intriguing.
What happens next?
Let us know in the comments below!
Need something spoooopy to listen to? Just re-encountered a nice lil reading someone put together of a story I wrote a couple years back. The story itself is also still up on creepypasta.com if you want to take a peek. 💀
I’m an avid fiction reader. I love to lose myself in worlds created in other people’s minds and watch events that have never occurred. But the parts of a story that lingers the longest in my mind is usually the emotions within a character, and the dynamics between characters. Then I realise that’s what draws me to the experiences I’ve selected to turn into stories here. Except these are real people, real experiences, real sentiments. They show that your ‘your hard-faced professional looking after you’ might not be as coldly separated as you think, that they have a whole other side churning within them. It’s just been set aside while they do the work of helping another.
Getting ready for TOMORROW! Find us at the Anaheim Central Library (@anaheimlibrary) for the OC Zine Fest (@oczinefest)! All sales tomorrow benefit our Mobile Art Lab fundraiser, #Lowride4Lit ! ✏️🚙🖊🎨
He knows he belong somewhere better than the damned place he is in. He waits patiently.
None of the conceited yet feeble minded creatures would stop him. He knows what their end is.
All of them will rot in hell.
Words and Photo: Jay Manila
This review is a repost as i have just re read this book.
Moonshine & Madness is book two in the ‘’love on the rocks’’ series, and I can definitely say that I enjoyed it more than the first book! I loved every single one of the characters and the storyline held my attention all of the way through.
Shy and curvy Gianna was on her way to work when she witnesses a hit and run/crash and drive away. After calling the police and reporting it, she goes over to the crashed car and rescues a mother and her two young children. When the paramedics and police arrive, Gianna meets handsome brothers Nixon and Darius Law and the instant attraction is mutual. After arranging a date with the two brothers, she gets on with her week, whilst at a lunch meeting Gianna meets another two handsome men, Rocco and Armando Law – what she doesn’t know is that both men are brothers of Nixon and Darius. After turning down a date with the two hunks out of loyalty to her upcoming date, Gianna decides to spend some time relaxing and kayaking. Once again Gianna meets two handsome men, Steel and Caspian that she has an instant spark with, once again she turns down a date. When the brothers talk, all six realise they met the same stunning beauty and decide to turn the date into a group/ménage style date. With the man that caused the car accident still at loose, Darius and his police partner Gary, realise that the man they are after could be the serial killer that they have been trying to catch/discover. But whilst everything is running smoothly with Gianna and the relationship, what they all don’t realise until its too late is that Mark Whithers – the man they are after has got an obsession with Gianna and he is going to take her whether they like it or not. Will all six men be able to get to Gianna in time? or will it be too late? #oneclicktoday#review#shortstory#romance
Happy Friday! I’m really enjoying this realist short story collection that I’ve been reading. I thought I’d share my thoughts on it.
Maxine Beneba Clarke is Australian and of Afro-Carribean descent, and her collection, Foreign Soil, confronts the different forms of cultural divide. Her stories tackle really important themes of race & identity, the feeling of being alienated, displacement & longing, and in the process shedding light on the darker crevices that divide people. I feel if you enjoyed Chimamanda’s The Thing Around Your Neck, you are likely to enjoy this.
My only qualm so far is that the dialogues in some of her stories are written using the phonetic slang which is a little tedious to follow. I understand that she’s tried to create that authenticity to the character and place, but I felt distanced from the story at times. On further research I got to know Clarke is a spoken word, slam poetry performer as well, so it makes even more sense as to why her dialogue emulates the local dialect.
I always like to give a little tease of the writing style, here’s a description of a city rebuilding itself after a quake.
‘The earth cracked in so many places that there was nowhere left to run, the ground parting wet and panting like a thousand lusting mouths, suctioning lives and livelihoods into fierce vacuums of quicksand. Refugees moved inland, away from the death rubble and decay, and the smaller village of Kingston swelled to the occasion, gathering up those who had lost everything. Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and years into decades. One day people looked up and a city had been built around them, bustling between the mountains and sea. Old people were buried, new life birthed, and eventually, all talk of leaving ceased.’
What are you reading? ☺️
KİME ÇEKTİM BEN BİLMEM Kİ | ZEKİ KAYAHAN COŞKUN .
😄Bir insanın anılarını bu kadar sıcak ve içten kaleme alışı 👌📚 Bugün motorda ve belediye otobüsünde gidiş ve dönüşte okurken dudaklarımda bir tebessüm, tutmasam kahkaha atacağım, herkesin ciddiyetten öldüğü ortamda bomba etkisi yaratacak bir anlatım. Ama eve dönüp okumaya devam edince hiç affetmedim katıla katıla güldüm; kendime ve yaşadığım çocukluk ve gençlik günlerime benzerlikler buldum. Ondan mı kanım ısındı? Yok canım, gayet neşeli ve akıcı yazılmış, öyküleşmiş anılar bunlar... Radyocu olduğunu hiiiç bilmiyordum Zeki Kayahan Coşkun'un. Araştırınca gördüm ki daha önce başka bir kitabını daha - Türkleri Anlama Kılavuzu - okumuşum fi tarihinde 😉 Ben bu kitabı çıktığı zaman almıştım adı sempatik gelmişti, sonra bir de Sevgili @sunay.akin önermişti. Arka kapak yazısı da onun. Okunma sırasını beklerken, ben de ne okusam da kafam rahatlasa biraz diye eşinirken kütüphanemde, başka bir yazar olan Sevgili Orhan Bahtiyar'ın ig sayfasında bu kitap çıkmaz mı karşıma 😄 Mal bulmuş Mağribi gibi mi desem, elinde tas hamamdan fırlayan Arşimet gibi mi desem bir aydınlanma oldu bende ve hemen okumaya başladım bugün yani cuma günü - artık cts oldu tabiki bunları yazarken- başladım ve bitti... Vallahi ömrünüze bereket Sevgili Zeki Kayahan Coşkun! Pek güzel yazılmış! "Hissi senetleriniz" muhteşem; çoktandır böyle kahkaha atmamıştım, cennetliksiniz vesselâm 💓🙋♀️ Sevgili kitap canavarları ! Bi mola ama yine kitaplı mola için ideal diyorum ve susuyorum; anlayanlar anlamıştır bence😎📚 Huzurlu geceler 🌉 ve keyifli bir haftasonu diliyorum herkese🙋♀️🌹💓💐🎶🎵⛴☕
*Re-Upload* *POTENTIAL SPOILERS* *Possible 18+ themes and language* *I'll be touching on current events in Jorhys's story so do not read if you're behind*
Blood dripped from his bandaged hands which ached from the recent grip upon the shield and sword hilt, Jorhys stood leaning over the body of the Separatist he had slain, he kicked him onto his front with his boot, from the stoney eyed face he could see he was gone, a great cheer erupted from the crowd around him, Jorhys looked up at all the smiling faces, they wouldn't be smiling if they knew he'd murdered one of their city guards days before, in a way, he felt, this sort of equalised things.
A hand suddenly came down on his shoulder and as quick as lightning his hand went to the sword at his hip, "Steady on fella, you're safe now!" a man's voice said in his ear, Jorhys turned around, before him was a man, smaller than him, red hair tied back, simple clothing, a book in his hand and a quill sticking from his top pocket, "You've got some impressive moves my man, that rotten piece of filth didn't know what hit him!" he exclaimed, Jorhys grunted in acknowledgement, not really in the mood to chat, just wanting to get away from the scene and all the people.
"The name's Fhil, I just so happen to be writing a book all about big battles all the way down to little skirmishes, I'd love to hear what your background in fighting entails, say, over a pint at the inn, what do you say?" he said putting his hand on Jorhys's back, guards were approaching now, pushing back the crowds, questioning folk as they moved closer, Fhil's offer was a means of escape, "Mhm, lead the way" he nodded beneath his hood, "Splendid!" "Fhil bellowed and clapped him on the back, they left the scene and headed to the Inn.
The final piece of "Madori" has been posted! I'm pretty proud of myself for having finally #released one of my works to the public. At this point now it's all about promotion really. #Wattpad gets a lot of traffic but it's easy to slip through the cracks. Thank you to everyone who supported the project and who encourages me to keep up with my craft. I realize there's a lot of people who don't like to read in-progress works so if you're one of those people and you've just been waiting for the whole thing to be done, hit the link in my bio! And here's the synopses for those who missed out: "There's no such thing as magic.' At least, that's what Alex Kim thinks until he stumbles upon a pair of gloves that once belonged to his favorite artist at the town's newest museum. When he touches one of her paintings while wearing them, he quickly finds out that his old way of thinking doesn't quite line up with the truth. Looks like this museum is hiding a pretty big secret: one that'll link his reality with the supernatural and a spirit trapped in a world of her own making." #release#2017#art#illustrator#oldman#illustration#book#artistononstagram#bookstagram#writersofinstagram#paranormal#ghost#complete#novella#shortstory
*POTENTIAL SPOILERS* *Possible 18+ themes and language* *I'll be touching on current events in Lance's story so do not read if you're behind*
A woman clad in armour from head to toe approached behind him, she saluted at Logan and stood with her hands behind her in a "ready for orders" stance. Logan smiled and uttered the command "At ease soldier" she rested her hand on her sword and turned to look at Lance and spoke in an orderly tone, "It's an honour to meet you my Lord, by Royal decree, I am to be your protector, as is my duty as The Shield of Kryta, until commanded otherwise by the current monarch or my death in the line of duty." Logan then looked at Lance, "This was the Queens idea, before you bite my head off again, I'm afraid you don't have a choice in this matter" he said looking slightly worried.
Lance clenched his hands into fists, trying to hold back the words he wanted to spill out, this was an insult to everything he had done for the Queen, he was not fully blind, he could cope with partial sight, he didn't need babysitting. "I do have a choice Logan and unless you plan on arresting me for refusing to cooperate, we are done here" he said coolly, still shaking slightly with anger.
I wanted to be the one who captured it.
She captured his heart, so I reached for the camera instead.
Even though I couldn't grasp his love, it was nice to admire from time to time.
The dream I had as a little girl, to grow up, marry a man who loved me to the moon and beyond the stars, has diminished... It is no longer my desire to find someone to love me, but rather to love myself, capture moments and share with others so that they may see their true desires as well. #shortstory#writing#story#writer#mythoughts#myimagination#photowithstory#storytime#capture#love#salemoregon
The phone ringing caught me off guard, who calls anymore? You do. And I started to. Our thumbs could use a break. We’d pass the time in an actual conversation and hearing you’re laughter, louder and than reading any capitalized acronym and more expressive than any exaggerated emoji. Your voice soft and sweet, everything else could wait, I savored our calls like treats.
Who knew how long our future, if any, would be. We were cautious. Climbing ladders to peek over the walls we’ve built, wondering if the other was safe or not. Sitting on the top, feet dangling over the edge. We made plans. There was no reason to think we couldn’t make it that far. I looked over the edge, evaluating the jump. Excited to see where we could go.
Things were good. Or so I thought. But, I’ve been wrong before. And, I’ll be wrong again. Because without warning it stopped. There was no call back. Texts went unanswered. The day we planned on came and went. I didn’t make other plans. Why would I? And after, I tried again. And again. I waited for any sort of response. But, I didn’t want to be that guy. The one who can’t take a hint. Or know that it’s over. And that it was never really anything anyways. Remember talking about how we hate when people do that to us? We talked about everything, but you couldn’t talk to me about that?
To think I nearly jumped and considered leaving the wall behind, it was so nice to talk. I retreated, back down the ladder, where it’s safe. I almost fell for you. It was a close call. But really, who calls anymore? You used to.
Somehow, I felt she was inviting me to join her or so. I didn't really understand how I was feeling. Then she spoke to me and her voice, sounding like auto tune to my ears, sent some sweet sensations down my spine. "Hello, who are you looking for?" She spoke like someone who was born and bred abroad. The way she pronounced every word, the intonation, the rhythm of her spoken word brought the world around me and within me into utter silence. Gee! What is such a beauty doing with marijuana? I thought. After I managed to tell her who I came to see, she told me my friend was not around. I just could not go back. Something in me wanted to stay with her. "Do you have a seat or something I can...?", I said to her as I came closer. "Oh, you can sit just by my side if you don't mind", she replied as she shifted to create some space for me to sit.
"You look beautiful; I mean you are really so beautiful that I don't know how beautifully I can describe your beauty." "Oh, thanks", she replied as she gave me a check of smile worth a million dollars as I sat happily beside her.
By this time, the sun was already sliding behind the cloud and the cool evening breeze blew joy and happiness into my soul as 2baba's infectious song, Gaaga Shuffle, was playing in her room.