People who don't go with the flow are considered to be a nuisance. They are despised upon. There is a difference between a doubtful mind and a paranoid mind. There is a level of ignorance in people who are full of confidence. “The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existence." - Albert Einstein
I deleted four social media applications.
There are still seven platforms remain
for me to stay connected with people,
all at my fingertips.
How excessive and crazy this world is!
And I am in it and living it.
Facebook, Messenger, Instagram, Whatsapp.
LinkedIn, Telegram, Signal, Wechat, Skype, Message, Email.
This is a collaboration between Bree and Cassa. It’s so much fun to write with a fellow Aussie. Check out Bree’s blog for more of her mystery Secret Thoughts Within.
Let me be the sea breeze caress your sun bleached hair
My urging breath dances on your bronzing shoulders and coats your lips with a crystalline salty kiss
Let me be the fine sand between your thighs like a wayward soul seeking paradise
I’ll warm up your skin to bring a pink blush to your cheeks as I explore every inch of your summer soaked body
It's the Pacific sun burning my mind
You are making me hungry, thirsty and possessive
I become a predator roaming for my prey till twilight
Let me overtake your senses with my crashing passion as the moon pulls in the tide
My every neuron charging along the ebb and flow of your sinew body
Breaking into your veins and crevices over and over till eternity
The night owl hides in the blackwood
The moon blushes into wattle flakes
Our naked souls lace in the orange sand
The waves blossom into our ferocious moans as we drift into a blissful trance
Some guys appreciate fine dining.
Some love to drink to oblivion.
Some have the addiction of coffee and smoke.
Some men are fixated on beautiful women.
Some are into the mind altering liquid.
Some sleep with wealth in their pillow case.
I wonder what is your vice?
When I peep into your closet,
You are the T-Shirt guy.
She carried her backpack with IDs and walked out one day after their son turned 18 She became the irresponsible one when her only responsibility was adult enough to cope with a family breakup She took the first flight to a new city to start a real life left behind an adult child and a juvenile husband
I have kept this CD player
with our love story
hidden in the tracks
you come to this cafe
we will share our love for music
just like the old days
before everything fell apart
I have no reason to revisit
the path we strolled along
hand in hand
dancing to the beat
of our love songs
will you blush
like you've always been
when you hear it plays
will you still
turn up the volume
trying to drown out
will I finally
to break down
This is a collaborative piece by Bree and Cassa. Do check out Bree’s blog Secret Thoughts Within for more of her wonder.
My love for you is indecent it doesn’t fit neatly into the mould I am an outlier in every book of sin No amount of purity resists my passion Offer me your vigour and I will return it ten-fold You have never known a love like mine I’m a wildfire and raging storm Come! Count me in Let me be your intoxication and Sunday regret We’ll be each other’s forbidden fruit and feast on a love so indecent
It was just yesterday
We bid farewell
to our glorious youth
In my naiive optimism
I thought of many reunions
coming our way
I heard of your passing
Life startled me
I hurried to that yesterday
snapped a photo of your smile
attached it to my prayers
hoping you remember us
once shared that celebrated chapter
– dedicated to Amanda B. (November 1960 – March 2021)
I only allow myself
to be half full of Rome
The ancient streets
are filled with mortal sins
of the modern life
In the shadow of the street lights
I take off my sandals
kneading my heels into the cold cobblestones
pressing my palms on the old walls
I let the saints and ghosts
fill me with the rest
A scarlet rose in my hair
A bronze raven at my feet
This is a prose collaboration between Cassa and SecretWriter.
She writes by the candle light in pitch black nights. The thought of his scents and words flames the wick burning in her lukewarm heart.
He lies down, stiff and exhausted from a day’s hard work, covered by the darkness of night. His mind wanders, and he dreams of her as the wax drips down the candle light. There is always this great distance dividing them, just as the milky way joining their imagination and fantasy. He spreads out the oils that collected her perfumes, reminisces of smoothing it across her shadowed skin. Light and dark that makes tiny lit hairs back when they explored galaxies within.
She writes love affair as she lives through every word and punctuation between their exchange where energy takes off in wings of imagination and fantasy. Their story is safely told as the storyteller becomes more and more tangled in the story she so vividly crafts.