Tag Archives: regret

Indulgence of Sadness (NaPoWriMo #28)

I feel a black burning hole sinking into my gut,
Its cursed heart growing beyond mine, beating silence into my mind.
Dreams haunted by the past ring with the laughter of time that races only with itself.
Swallowed by despair as soul is sucked into the air, is the feeling of a being
Who could have done but did not do.

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Visa application + stupidity/inability to appropriately respond to unpredictable circumstances + horribly rude customer service = Stress and a whole lot of sorries.

How I even manage to write this lightheartedly I have no idea. This was a vent of my disgusting feelings at the moment. And I know NaPoWriMo was over a while ago…

Anyways, thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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Inspiration Collage: For a Special Someone

“Rise above it” Fine Art Print by Amanda Cass

“Rise above it” Fine Art Print by Amanda Cass

Life is like a camera

keep your head up....

yesss

Adventure

"days are only as grey as you allow them to be."I really need to see this tonight.  Time to start over.

Shel Silverstein

Dedicated to that special Someone: I hope this has spread some sunshine for you and that you know  there are many who are always here for you.

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All these posts are taken from Pinterest, which unfortunately does not always have the best cited sources. For those that do not recognize his style, the poem on the left is written by Shel Silverstein, one of my favourite authors in elementary school. The new genre of combining images and quotes is a great way to inspire and would be fun to create, I imagine. I love collecting so I can read through them in low times.

Life can be tough, and comfort can be found in this medium. Hope some of these resonated with you the way they did to me.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

5 Comments

May 8, 2013 · 12:02 am

Hesitant Haircut (NaPoWriMo #6a)

Hair Photography Brown Waves Neutral Home by VictoriaEnglishCharm,

Courtesy of Victoria English Charm

Braided ladder, thick as rope,
Draped over back or shoulder
Falling freely, a lustrous slope
Bouncy in a pony holder

Coiled and twisted in a bun
Pinned and hairsprayed into place
Tangled flag behind a run
Frames or hides or whips my face
Accidental catcher of crumbs and snow
Years and years shampooed, brushed, grew

Steady, scissors, make no haste
To clear this curtain past my waist
Sentimental regret, but it’s time you go
Kind of exciting

Snip, snip.
It’s gone.
Just like that?
Boo hoo.

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I will cut my hair one of these days, and it will feel like this.

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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Regret: Another nostalgic paragraph assignment

There was a smell of Regret in the air tonight. She (Rebecca) smiled and turned the fancy in her mind. There was a thought. What did Regret smell like? Like smoke and rust and cobwebs. And if you wondered what Regret sounded like it sounded like the airy whispers of forgotten ghosts, and crushed bone, and a mirror shattering into a thousand tiny slivers, and silent screams. And, going further, what did Regret look like? Regret looked like dead flies trapped between the glasses of a windowsill or it looked like invisible splinters in the tip of a finger, or a burning piece of crumpled paper slowly engulfed by flames, slowly crumbling into nothing but withered ashes. That was how Regret smelled and looked and sounded. And tonight – Rebecca shoved a hand into the pack of cigarettes – tonight you could almost touch Regret.
(The Streetlight Chronicles)

This was a fill-in-the-blank-type assignment entitled “Is Characterizing Abstract Nouns Personification?” written in 2009. We were inspired to write our own version of the following paragraph written by Ray Bradbury:

There was a smell of Time in the air tonight. He (Tomas) smiled and turned the fancy in his mind. There was a thought. What did Time smell like? Like dust and clocks and people. And if you wondered what Time sounded like it sounded like water running in a dark cave and voices crying and dirt dropping down upon hollow box lids, and rain. And, going further, what did Time look like? Time looked like snow dropping silently into a black room or it looked like a silent film in an ancient theatre, or one hundred billion faces falling like those New Year balloons, down and down into nothing. That was how Time smelled and looked and sounded. And tonight – Tomas shoved his hand into the wind outside the truck – tonight you could almost touch Time.
(Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles)

Thanks for reading,
thebookybunhead

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Filed under Poems, Essays, and Things