simplicity
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Stories (112/0)
Finding Behavioral Residue
Everything is the same, yet nothing is the same. By appearances it felt like home, but the heart of it is missing. The light from the sun floods in, in search of it, but unable to find it, so light is everywhere. It seems extra bright as if trying to compensate for the loss even it knows exists. Light touches Everything in the office. The settled dust sparkles as glitter giving it a heavenly feel. Maybe it once was.
By simplicity15 days ago in Psyche
The Almost Insurrectionist
A silent disguised call to arms. An equation unfully calculated. An affront ready to be met aggressively. A group, ready to be the iron fist of the general public. Injustice, will not stand. The noise rose up and hung around as a thick fog would.
By simplicityabout a month ago in Fiction
Enshrining Complement
The humidity suffocated. Unlike the balmy days of summer she spent with her siblings playing outside until sunset, this was miserable. Sweat glued her shirt and skirt to her skin. She periodically squeezed out the sweat, but to no use. It would be saturated a second later. She watched as drop after drop, dropped, a reminder of the precious liquids leaving her body. She had been walking and walking and walking. She needed something to eat and she needed water. She had walked so far. If she could lift her legs she would have attempted to run in any direction, but they were close to being numb and lame so it was out of the question. She mentally pleaded to the weather and earth for rain, a river or even a puddle at this point. Cloud cover would be the least that could be done. She'd seen 'Naked and Afraid', that was enough of the experience for her. She wasn't yet desperate, but getting there. She realized all the things she should have done differently. All the items she should have brought. Her foot hit a root and she tumbled to the ground. The root trip was the last straw to her upright mobility. She stayed down in defeat, on the ground. She took her worn sneakers off and rubbed the soles of her feet. She could feel her fingers rubbing on the soles of her feet. Reassurance that they were simply tired and not at risk of needing to be amputated. Before closing her eyes and accepting a slow death, she notices something she recognizes. A small cluster of maroon gourd shaped jewels showing among the greenery. She rushed to them. Plucking clusters of them from the tree as delicately as her need allowed. She didn't bother peeling the figs. She ate the whole thing. Then another and another until she felt her stomach reflex reminding her it could spill all it's contents if she continued. She shoved what she could in to her pockets and her small bag. Ignoring the sticky mess as a few delicate fruits burst under the pressure of her frantic touch. The strap of her bag had left a rubbed rash on her neck as she was wearing it securely across her body. A canvas, water resistant crossbody bag that tourist wear. She wasn't a tourist to the overall place, it was home, but she was a tourist to this particular forest. Surveying the land drew her here. This was just going to be a surveying trip. Over eager and confident she had gone alone early. She should have insisted her and her colleague drive here together. She was supposed to meet a fellow colleague here an hour later, but she must have gotten the location wrong or possibly her colleague did, she had yet to find her. She fell back to the ground, her sugar rush wearing off. She felt strengthed from the fruits none the less. The sugar left her thirstier, but somehow with less immediate need for it.
By simplicity2 months ago in Fiction
Inspiration Behind the Inspired
Women developed the term 'imposter syndrome'. To me, women, always seemed a little like the chicken and the egg argument. Did they get there bc of men or other women or mostly on their own. Was it really merit or good personality? Is it true, many only get to those positions by being extra intelligent or more beautiful physically? It is said there is a strong women behind every good man. These men are influenced by these women. What made these woman tolerable to them I wonder.
By simplicity3 months ago in Motivation
Dame Nature
Breaking through the ocean skin with her dive, she pushed her way back up to the surface. She flopped over onto her back and lay floating in the sunshine zone. What the first people must have thought on first seeing the life in the waters. She saw shrimp eel and even a pacific spoon nose along with some other fish. Although determined to be fish, the first inhabitants must have seen the inescapable serpent appearance of these creatures and thought the creatures were snakes. It would be hard not to believe the serpent owned the majority of the land and waters. The deep waters must have seemed like such foreign places.
By simplicity3 months ago in Fiction
Dame Nature
The Olmecs have many depictions of jaguars. They were thought to be the snakes of land; Able to lurk in the shadows, camouflaged, and patient. These cats can slide through the brush almost silently as if slithering on their bellies. The fangs framing their mouths are remaining remnants. Remnants hinting to more than just a resemblance to the snake. Pointing to an evolutionary story. An evolutionary strain in us all, proved by our obsession with taste and our innate dual nature. Mark Catesby once noted, after a hurricane, snakes will devour their own kind, If the circumstances require it. She had never personally seen this, but never doubted it. Jaguars will attack their own as a show of dominance. Survival in the hierarchy at any cost is the Serpents heritage.
By simplicity3 months ago in Fiction
Set Fire to Make it Grow
How was I too know The match that I was lighting Was bound to explode I couldn't have known Pure alcohol to a flame, is bound to cause a change lts fun while it burns But the clean ups where it turns Its usually just a phase, a phase we out grow It had me dancing to the music only I could hear the tune But life ruined it by asking me to grow How was I to know It's better on the other side Set fire to make it grow
By simplicity3 months ago in Poets