i-dingus

[i-dingus]

Here's a poem I made for my Creative Writing class

Setting a Precedent

After Sally Bowles

Setting a Precedent

After Sally Bowles

Friends, family, and all who remain unfamiliar with the goings of it’s,

“it” is our Upstanding Sanctuary of Apathy, that of which only

a fair few can comprehend and hap to see behind the mask of politics.

All our ignorance begetting more of our favorable fallacies, and

all the while you sit there, immersed in your screens, feeding on your feeds to do what?

I stand atop my mountain of misdeeds and malintent, as the corporates scream of what has-

been. What was considered the future, when once people profoundly believed that

Progress was just around the corner, while hatred festered beneath what had gotten

Widely unnoticed, widely undeterred. Perceived as continuous loss to

All the men who would huff up their toxic gospel, trained by media to do

Just what you're designed to do. Factories spread by factorial withholding

The truth from who seek to ruin your plans, ruin our empire, ruin any

And all who oppose our rule. Go cry tears to the tyranny you praise most of

All! As I of all will break and bend your more to beckon the call of the US!

Hopefully the structure still works with the Tumblr format😭

[i-dingus]

RAAAAHH PRIDE MONTH POEM🔥🔥🔥

Prideless

A time for pride

Pride in oneself

Pride in one's thoughts

Pride in everyone but me

Instead a time of guilt

A time of questioning

A time of unacceptance

A time made for me

Now here lies the prideless

The prideless man

The prideless thing

The prideless thing is me

I want to believe I'm prideful

To believe I'm right

To believe I'm apart of them

To believe I'm still me

This time is complicated

Filled with senseless guilt

Thinking I'm a prideless thing

Making me wish I was thoughtless

No happy ending here

Just a sentence with no period

An open statement

That I'll try to have pride in who I am

I made this a year ago when I was still figuring stuff out, sharing it now!

[i-dingus]

Icarus and the Phoenix

(UNFINISHED)

From 11:49 March 19th 2024 on a Tuesday to a Monday, on April 1st 2024 10:44, I had felt love for an oddity I never could've expected, aren't I the fool? You see, Icarus ended up burnt, he flew too close to that sun and lost his wings. But Icarus had not met the sun, he met a soaring phoenix.

He and the phoenix soared the skies for a while, Icarus keeping his distance from the flaming bird to avoid himself getting burnt. After coasting for a while, their bond strengthened. Icarus would fly close to the phoenix in the rain, and the phoenix flew close in the winter to keep him warm. This worked well for a while, until a storm came. It lasted a whole week, Icarus still doing his best to keep the phoenix safe. This didn't last, it became too much for the flaming bird, so it flew up above the clouds, leaving Icarus in the storm. It is believed Icarus loved that bird, that he burnt his wings just to keep them safe. Others believe that those feelings were mutual, and if it was not for the storm, they'd have soared over the whole world. But you see, Icarus was never burnt by the flames of the phoenix, he simply felt the sharp, cold rain after the bird’s warmth dissipated. Icarus may have not been burnt by the phoenix, but that storm didn't subside for some time.

We were friends before then, not very long, 3 months or so, I got infatuated with their story see. The hardships they had to overcome, the ones they've yet to encounter but were bound for the horizon, I wished to see their story unfold. That Phoenix, they were an oddity I never could grasp.

I think I loved him, we both had that love, it was a mutual thing, but I never wished to harm that beauty of a creature. I didn't wish to shackle a bird like that, keep them bound to my level, but he wanted me at the time so I said yes.

Delusional was Icarus, he saw the sun in a bird merely born from some ashes. It's argued they both were deluded to what was real, a fantasmic lie they both lived for some odd while.

They said to him that it wasn't his fault, it was no one's in the end. It was a hard truth to swallow, there were faults that he saw in hindsight, on both sides. It was circumstantial, had he never gotten sick, had he never been overwhelmed, it is believed by few that they'd still be together. However the circumstance, that oddity was defiant, unbound, it's why he loved him so.

If it wasn't for my overbearing, if I had made them feel safe, if only I kept it bottled.

Icarus couldn't find his way through the skies anymore, he had no light to guide him in this storm. Icarus searched for a home, one he had before he soared the skies, wishing he could take everything back. Icarus’ mind was sporadic, hectic, he had trouble grasping the reality at hand. It wasn’t his fault, he dared to blame the bird, but he knew that if it was their fault, it was just as much his.

He was distraught, distrustful, and unmotivated. His eating was halved, anymore and he’d surely vomit. Seeing them or their friends when passing by resulted in an acidic feeling in his throat, it was going against habit while acting like you’re not thinking.

You can’t find logic in love, and its consequences. It’s near impossible to accept an illogical thing such as love, but you still feel it. Maybe not like your friend, maybe not like Icarus, maybe not like anyone else in the world, but you can still feel love. Whether platonic, romantic, sensual, sexual, love is unique to you, and for some it just happens to dissipate, fade with time.

Here's an unfinished short story that I might try to tackle again at a later date. A friend suggested that I entwined different povs in the next story I wrote so this was the attempt. I'm a little lost on how I continue the story from the second to last paragraph, maybe have them find eachother again "red string theory", or have them be better apart like "La La Land". Or maybe I have the perspectives shift into different stories? Following a less straight storyline? Idk I definitely plan to come back to this but not right now (as this story is based on pretty real events, and I want to give myself proper time before I tackle it again).

Buhbye for now!!

[i-dingus]

"I forgor I had Tumblr😭" *opens Tumblr* I think I remember why💀

[i-dingus]

Starving Artists

This ones a rap (kinda, it's just fun to read it like that)

Starving poets heard by no one who knows its tone deaf to all who cannot see it, hear it, speak it, no evil shall be if Ignorance bleeds through the crack in a line while substantial substances rain on all ignorant faces.

The race proved no task for the hare with bad pace, came second place to the slowest case, what was that laced with? Drugs, breath power while the people still breath powder. None are entertained by the media yet spend hours lined with all the doubters influenced by the loudest voice.

Vulgarity was never my choice of charity, and yet all I speak is seldom a rarity to all, but these same brains are needing some clarity?

I mean the world's messed up! but that's not so nice, so now I'm mean? still the world messed up! It's like picking out lice! My head's messed up! But isn't everyone's? All these same brains yet I'm excluded? Talking to this wall was fun and now I'm reclusive? Exclusives, limited editions, meanwhile some people barely know addition.

Art deals with tellings of seldom reciprocal feelings suddenly heard by all! Make loads, hits after lit bits, clouded by smoke in the mirror, fear their downfall while their big boss takes off with loads you smoked!

Corporal corporates live while corpse rates pile by the dozens, it wasn't the men who won the war, but the has-beens who made galore. They make it sound so easy! “Just make some more!” I often wonder why “capitalism” is implored.

This world is often horrid, but lots explore it, not the hidden plots, and ignorance adores it. “Do you often think about this” Yea I think about it lots! “But it all sounds so conspiracle” bro, connect the dots!

Looking back at the first line, still hardly the first dime, now you oughta’ wonder why art is starving!

[i-dingus]

Here's some poems about love

Prejection

Just say it, walk up and say the words, that's what people do.

It's so simple! Yet you can no longer walk.

Your knees wobble, sitting feels just fine.

If only you could walk, but you can?

You're halfway up, now stuck in motion, unable to commit.

You stand up, now you have to move.

Falling into each step, like a toddler hobbling.

You see them, standing so high, or maybe nigh.

Whoever may stand, caught by your eye.

You step and step, reaching so close.

You reach them, and tell them those words.

You sit back down, from that in motion position.

Now you see you have not moved at all.

Hopeless Romantic

The courage is building, it's getting close.

You want to say it to them, now at its most.

Closer and closer the words rise, getting caught in your throat.

From friend to relation, it's time to switch boats.

But in passing you hear that they're taken.

Their heart is full while yours remains vacant.

You backpedal, desperately trying to find sometime that was safe.

While swiftly dodging feelings of malcontent and hate.

It's like you want to forget them, but their glimmer is so bright.

Who could put out this burning light?

The hopeless romantic, a repeating story.

A one that seldom ends in glory.

This story came quick, and love moves fast.

For this was the story of a lover's past.

[i-dingus]

This story has no meaning

You find yourself a flower, shining with the sun casting its shadow. I should remind, this story has no purpose, you are simply looking, feeling, and gaining nothing. The flower's eye looks into you, it sees nothing. You need nothing more, you just watch, sit and watch. The day grows, the flower doesn't glow as much as before. It finds you perplexed at this, nothing has happened, so why dim its great glow? You can't find the light, no light, no time, it's…fear. you stare into the darkness, the moon's light displaying the flowers' silhouette, and you stare. You stare, and stare, and stare, the same image repeated with every passing blink. You feel blind, you feel blind, you must be blind, surely this image is your last. Is time passing? Are your eyes opened? Maybe closed? Can you still see? You imagine white, and flashes of said color appear. “blue, red, yellow, pink, brown, burgundy, vermillion” colors well known and abstract and flashing in your mind. It pains you to do this, but you don't want darkness. light! brightness! shine! Illuminate!... Nothing's working, all you see is pitch black...

So I ended up not finishing this. I was tired but couldn't sleep, so I just wrote about a dark room (my room) and insanity (not really mine, just fun to write as)

[i-dingus]

Anoctopathic

Can't sleep, want to cry.

Sadly can't, tears run dry.

An aching feeling near the throat.

However, not bad enough to choke.

Still wanting a release, but the grip tightens.

The thought of death, should surely frighten.

But it doesn't this time, and that was most scary.

You feel tears so close, almost there, barely.

But it stops, the noise stops, the tears were never there.

If this only happens to me, how is that fair?

You open your phone, needing a distraction.

To stop you thinking of it, an endless attraction.

To cry, to feel sad, to merely think of death.

What an easier night it could've been, if only you'd wept.

[i-dingus]

Writers Block

Can't think to save me, I must already be saved.

But I still wish to think, maybe save someone new?

I don't wish to think long, only in 10 verses.

Some of them might rhyme, some might end in herses.

Walking down writers block, and can't pay the toll.

But at the end of the day, I'm just taking a stroll.

Desperately trying to think all the time.

I even think it necessary to rhyme.

I hate writer's block, as many must do.

Not much else I can do, can't use the same word to rhyme, here's a shoe.

[i-dingus]

Making this my poetry platform. I'm gonna just post a few I already made since I don't have any new ones (yet).

FYI: most of these are made improperly, or maybe they aren't? Poetry is confusing.

Opinionated

To have an opinion feels like a privilege,

I'd wish to be without them,

Privilege or not, they feel crippling,

They cloud rational thoughts,

blind the most observant eyes,

choke out the loudest voices,

And could brew violence,

In this opinionated world everyone is seemingly against each other,

They divide and yet they also form stronger bonds,

Opinions are strange,

Position

To be in a position,

Where you feel like you're in the background.

Like you're unimportant,

Like you're dispensable,

It is a hard way to live,

Feeling as though you get less attention than others.

Less notice,

Less care,

It is crippling.

You know this feeling but you feel as though you cannot seek help,

For you are in the background,

And you don't deserve to seek it,

You know that they won't mind,

But it's a parasite, infecting your reason,

Tearing it down, bit by bit,

Until you feel as though you should be invisible,

To be in a position,

Where you're position does not matter,

What a Shitty Week!

Been a bad week

I mean the week just started and it's already bleek

Sitting on a lopsided seat

Pessimism reeks, doesn't it?

Complaining to complain

Fixing not quick enough

I think this is it

What a shitty week!

Playing solitaire with no cards

Spinning thoughts, all that I hate

Mind running blank

Surrounded by people! Irate!

I believe I've said it, but I'll say it again

What a shitty week!

Avolition

Sinful sloths,

They do nothing,

They know of their inaction,

They'd try to do something,

But are burdened with avolition,

A pit with no ladder,

One could desperately claw at the sides,

But they believe to know that they will fail,

They won't climb,

A Slothful man,

View painted monochrome,

Shrouded in sorrows,

Dragging in a meadow of melancholy men,

Stagnant as less pull them along,

Motivationless,

Motionless,

Less,

Lesser thoughts,

Less than thoughts,

Less than worth thinking,

Devoid of action, of motive,

Doing nothing,

Not moving,

Sin of Sloth,

In a spiral of thoughts,

Procrastination sings,

Avolition weeps,

Depression screams,

all in despondency,

All together,

Pleading for attention,

Begging to be noticed,

Addressed,

Because they will only grow in sound if rejected,

A call for help,

A beneficial cry,

A somber song played for somber times,

Somber people,

No,

Worse,

Hurt people,

Rejected by themselves,

A despondent weed in a field of favorable flowers,

But that weed is in two plains,

Meadow and field,

The favorable field & the melancholy meadow,

The weed dances between both as it starts to bloom,

For a flower with bittersweet nectar tastes better than all,

Most of these are around a year old now, and I'd like to believe I don't align with their views that much, but that's probably not true. Everyone has their dark and emotional "oo I'm so deep" side of themselves, even the most transparent of people. Anyway, to anyone who even sees this (probably no one, this app is pretty dead): don't take my stuff that seriously. I'm but a humble word wizard and just like writing out well put together sentences.

[i-dingus]

Literally making this post so the little "make your first post!" Thing at the bottom of my account window goes away.