From playing hide-and-seek on our mother's funeral to giving life-changing lessons to each other, we grew up!
I never got to bat first – all I could remember was – saving your wickets by acting like a pathetic wicketkeeper.
I still remember frowning when I used to get your books, clothes, and shoes. And, let's be honest, who likes second-hand stuff? But, things started to change with the time -- I could experience growing fondness for your goodies and especially for your hoodies. You can't blame me for it! It's because of them.
You held my hand whenever I was oblivious or when the so-called brothers and friends left me searching for answers! From making me learn how to ride a bicycle to walk...
Bubble of Friendship - Burst the Myth
Loving your friends more than yourself,
Is that a crime?
Caring for someone beyond your comfort zone, maybe, that is what I have learned.
Sometimes it might look like a bit cumbersome to get stuck with those feelings and expectations and to see them not reciprocate in the similar manner.
I won't lie, but seeing them not doing the same; lets me down in some way..
The time will change, and they will care and do the same...
Ray of hope, keeps me going, and the tunnel is about to end.
But the Bubble of my utopian world is blown tight and for a while this is just -- right!
And one fine day
the ink dries away;
and Filofax crumbles
with the weight of your phrase
but the fire in rage
and you rip your heart out
Use pain as ink,
and all the sorrows as parchment
You no longer need Paper and a Pen.
Soy una mujer que siempre vivirá enamorada 😍 ...
Enamorada del Arte 🖼
La pintura 🎨
La música 🎶
Los colores 🌈
La naturaleza 🌝🌙✨
Los sueños 💭
La creatividad 👌
De Una sonrisa sincera 😀
De una mirada feliz 😁
De una mano amiga 🖐
De un poema que haga rebelar tu interior sin tener que exteriorizarlo
De unos ojos 👀 que digan más que mil palabras
De un corazón 💖 temeroso de Dios 🙌
De un papel y un lápiz ✏️ en el momento indicado
De una caminata por la playa 🏝
De sentir la brisa Del Mar 🌊
De mirar la luna 🌓 en una noche oscura
De quedarse despierta recordando momentos que traen luz💡 a su mente
De suspirar sin tener que ser por alguien en especial 🥰
De sentir mi cabello alborotado 🤪
This intense need for an outlet is what brought me back here several years later. I do not remember my first account but I’m definitely happy to be back. I may not have anything profound to share ... ever... but I wanted to be part of a space where I don’t feel the pressure to deliver or be great. Just a place to share my thoughts. A space where I can ramble on peacefully and authentically.
It's strange how writing letters can connect two completely strangers in such a deep way.
Little by little they share informations about themselves, talk about what they like or dislikes, their views on life or other subjects, the little things etc. They also feel understood by the receiver and appreciate when they get more letter from them. It has something magical this kind of communication and makes those letters even more precious.
Why do I write?
Well I am obviously not a good writer. I often lack words to tell people how I feel. Writing simply helps me to make it clear to myself.
It gives me a chance to write my worries out but also to reflect my thoughts and actions to myself.
So even though I am not a good writer, I am happy to have a place I can share my thoughts at in a rather creative way.
I also loved to wrote letters cause it feels far more personal than a quick social media message.
A letter needs time, self reflection and thoughts to keep it to the topic.
I would never want to stop writing, but it is the first time that I share my thoughts with public.
I hope my writing won‘t be to bad.
A veces nos cuesta escribir, tan solo por ver en el papel las letras armando frases que no queremos leer.
A veces nos duele enfrentarnos a nosotros, nuestros miedos y demonios.
No estamos en este mundo para soportar aquello nos llena de penumbra el mundo
Dear Friends of lettrs,
We have been powering the worlds letters now for six years and the emotional contributions of people have inspired many others.
But now we ask for your help! Please support our “Save lettrs” campaign on GoFundMe, no matter how small the contribution. Any contribution of $25 or more will receive premium edition for life, and our lasting thanks.
All proceeds of the lettrs campaign go to maintaining the technology that underpins the world’s only mobile network dedicated to letters and our legacy of lasting words.
In thanks and respect,
Let your ink, bleed truth.
Honor the gift of the written word. Even a "tall tale" is written using the, Word.
"Window sill massacre"
Ink drops splash, on the base of my window sill, it makes a plunge to the never judging, and sure surface below.
Blots everything between the sheets. Window sill massacre left me with melodies muffled by a blot of ink. And not even, a thought, to think.
"Blot blot blot."
Inka, binka, bottle of inka. Secure your quarts, its time to write, all that you see.
I recently tried to give up writing.
I gave it up once, for maybe... a few months. I mean, there were some scribbles,
And some scratches, but nothing too in depth.
But something about watching thick black ink, cautiously carve a tale across blank canvas of, despair, intrigue, lust, truth, passion and, love!
Dance in the arms of
Passion under street light glow, in the middle of the "Hood."
Street light glimners in the eyes of second chance citizens.
Second, and third time charms.
Wrap arms around eachother and, ask Truth to be your...
TO DREW, THE LETTRS STAF,
MY PEN PALS, AND ALL WHO READ THE WRITINGS THAT I POST!
LIFE AS I LIVE IT INSPIRES ME TO WRITE, BUT IT WILL ALWAYS BE THE READERS THAT MOTIVATE ME A GIVE ME REASO TO PUT THE WORDS IN MY HEAD INTO PRINT!
THANK YOU ALL!
What if. What if my poetries don't need you, or my writings don't bleed.
You still twitched my prefixes and groped me down to non existence.
I'm here trembling through those bruises yet again.
Not being afraid of your voices but your slouching frit.
Slaying my own life and drowning on yours.
Is it possible to not to be cure?
I'm vain and naive and blunt.
It is cult, it is bold. Not the usual that was told.
To traumatized and to be betrayed to glow more.
Purging into a devious soul.
Until next time you meet me here, I'll be no longer in your fear!
I think if I were ever famous, it would first be for being a great dad and then for imagining a wonderful place like lettrs, where people seek the best in their words as opposed to the worst.
Thanks to all who take time to write,
My Lettrs timeline
have an uncategorized list of warriors
doing their artistry, living with invisible battle scars.
On Rarest, happiest days, with exceptional, steller phrase
in the most alluring ways, they line themselves one after another in my Inbox.
My epistle act as a catalyst and I'm honored we all connect.
To whomever, it concerns and motivates
The pen is always ready
Patiently, to be used for greatness,
To inscribe into reality,
The words that live, only in your mind,
To become a permanent point in time,
For the well placed words, in a well formed sentence, are irreversible, once read or heard,
So speak thoughtfully,
And write meaningfully,
To be heard, and read, and felt by the world,
As a joyful experience,
With uplifting and positive intent,
Now, feel, think, think deeper,
And be the dream creator, that the pen awaits,
Waste not it's ink, it's life blood, on the frivolous, but spend it to change lives, to breath wonder into the world,
The pen awaits,
Patiently for you,
To use it, to will,
Me pregunto: ¿algún día dejaré de escribir?
Sentada en un coche recorriendo el paisaje con la tinta que humedece mi cerebro y a posteriori mis neuronas... ¡cansada de todo menos de las letras!.. me cuestiono que harán esas condenadas para tenerme como una esclava que firmó el contrato de nunca sentir la soledad si la puedo describir.
Y ese es mi único consuelo en este circo. Si me duele el corazón, lo escribo. Si me arden los ojos de rabia y odio, lo escribo. Además, si me agoto del ambiente físico, lo describo.
Se que no tengo cura y tampoco la quiero. Deseo sentirlo todo para leerlo y luego releerlo. Es una dependencia a la escritura que en ocasiones siento miedo de soltar una lágrima sin a...
Scrolling through my feed, I muttered, "Why do people these days write mostly about heartbreak? My feed is full of such tales.
"Because heartbreak brings out the hidden writer in them and so their experience become words. Just like you do.", my friend replied straight to my face.
there's a love in me
beyond the boundaries of my words
where i can only pray in silence
while rejoicing within my breaths
love was so much easier to write about
-joshua ryan stewart