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  • Showing only topics in ~creative with the tag "original content". Back to normal view / Search all groups
    1. On the phoenix

      In mythology the phoenix is an immortal bird that, when it's time, burns to death. In some versions of the myth, it's intentional. Sometimes things happen to it and it's forced to begin the cycle...

      In mythology the phoenix is an immortal bird that, when it's time, burns to death. In some versions of the myth, it's intentional. Sometimes things happen to it and it's forced to begin the cycle anew.

      I admire the phoenix so much. After all, immortality is just another way of expressing the will to endure.

      But sometimes I also wonder. I wonder if the phoenix, in the moments of burning, regrets it's choice, secretly hoping to prolong it's current pace because it's happy where it is. I wonder if, the moments before it's forced to start the cycle, it looks back at it's choices that lead up to it, and wishes it chose differently. I wonder if it regrets it didn't do more in that life. I wonder if it looks forwards to it's new life.

      When it's done burning, I wonder if it can look back at it's old life. Would it look and wish that it burned again, hoping to get back it's old life? Is it able to carry it's old memories and grow and be a better phoenix? Would it hope that some of it's old life comes with it? Does it look at it's next burning with dread, or hope?


      I don't know where to put this, was thinking in ~creative or ~health.mental or ~misc. I've been pretty out of it and super depressed still, but this is just some of the things I've been thinking about.
      I wrote a bit about where I've been here

      10 votes
    2. penghu

      an endless blue. my island shore. my quiet voice. a crashing roar. my little feet mark steps in sand. a big red bucket in my hand. cold water glides across my gills. it tastes of dark and salt and...

      an endless blue. my island shore.
      my quiet voice. a crashing roar.
      my little feet mark steps in sand.
      a big red bucket in my hand.

      cold water glides across my gills.
      it tastes of dark and salt and kills.
      i hunt for food hoping to make
      what others all of me want made.

      i cuff my pants and dip my toes
      to cool myself from hot sand's glow.
      my bucket drinks with thirsty lips
      salt water, sand, and -- wait, what's this ?

      in rest i lie where currents go:
      to waters warm, bright, and shallow.
      a sudden wake from surface stirs:
      swimming around a big red blur.

      i look at her. i look at him.
      i puff in fear. i'm uncertain.
      i dip my fingers holding shrimp.
      i take a bite. we make friends quick.

      11 votes
    3. Blogs: Show your own writing and good posts you have found recently

      I think we can do this once again. The last one went okay and there has been some other recent threads on blogging and the state of the internet and sharing good blog posts we have found is a good...

      I think we can do this once again. The last one went okay and there has been some other recent threads on blogging and the state of the internet and sharing good blog posts we have found is a good alternative.

      So please share links to both your own recent blog posts and interesting posts you may have read recently.

      9 votes