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Literature Text
The creative ideas inside our heads
unfortunately will go unsaid
for society has removed them all
watching proudly as we fall
almost as if
they were never there at all
unfortunately will go unsaid
for society has removed them all
watching proudly as we fall
almost as if
they were never there at all
Thank you Super much
23 Subscribers
Hello! I’m Bis and I’ve been creating digital art for over 5 years now. As a freelance artist, I’ve worked on some great projects, but I’ve found less time to work on my own art and ideas over time. So a couple of years back I started to draw landscapes again and got great responses from the community(YOU GUYS).
By supporting me this way, you'd help me immensely to grow from here, give me stability, and move on to do more.
$3/month
Literature
To some people.
To some people, it’s called breathing.
To me, it’s called inhaling poison,
Which drenches my lungs and sinks into my bones
And melts into my mind.
To some people, it’s called anxiety.
To me, it’s called an unbearable shakiness in my soul
The nervousness preventing my from ever escaping
This disease in my heart.
To some people, it’s called living.
To me, it’s called never being able to run away.
Never being able to truly go, truly leave.
To me, it’s called being caught in a nightmare,
While struggling to dream.
Chasing a mystery with no solution.
Escaping your own sanity to reach more sanity,
Freei
Literature
Twisted Up Inside
Would you ever know the feeling,
Of being twisted, over and over.
Much like a string of high-tension cord;
Ready to snap at any moment.
You are barely controlling this swell of emotion.
Keeping it taut, lest it burst from the surface.
A plastic smile serves as your only defense;
Witty banter, to stave off a deeper inquiry.
You hide the signs of your sickness;
Quickly easing the pressure.
Whilst appearing to adjust the suit,
You move through the crowd like a fading wisp.
Rushed, sweating and just barely contained.
You duck into the shadows, so you might breathe again.
-Chen Yuan Wen, Broken World Series, 13th November 2013
Literature
Desperation
I wonder how many days you've spent feeling lost.
Thinking that you're going somewhere.
Never actually getting anywhere.
You look at the same four walls over and over again.
You can paint them in different colours,
But you know they're still the same.
And you convince yourself that you're making progress,
Nothing's changed, but you're making progress.
Things are getting worse, but you're making progress.
And then you wake up and realise,
That shit has hit the fan...
Suddenly you're forced to do the things you couldn't,
The kind of things that you were never comfortable with.
And you find out you can do them.
You find out that the only
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Don't disappear.
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Comments53
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so true