Yeah! Spill that unspilt ink! Spill it all over the page no matter the theme or topic of the piece. Always a beautiful write from you, S.

Daniel

Get up …. Please please get up

Powerfully penned, LDF. Very deep write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

Oof…i felt this one like a fist in the gut. Guilt truly is like cancer…eats you up. And fear will wear you down. And they tag team far too well. The amazing thing about your late night musing is that it’s not directed. You let it take the wheel…& where it takes the reader is anyone’s guess. But we’re all buckled in for a fantastic ride, my friend

Guilt provokes necrosis of the soul…
Great piece Damian. ⚘️

I’ve been living with guilt for 30 years … I know

Damian, I gave up living with guilt long ago. I surrendered it, to a force much greater than I.

Life is a ride with different turns. Great ink

Guilt sucks. Practice in becoming a sociopath. It will erase all those guilty feelings. Great write Damian.

Powerfully penned, Drieks. This is a deep and profound piece my friend. Incredible write. Appreciate you.

Damian

G’morning, Drieks 🌤️

What a creative title, and that photo choice (with your pen name attractively laid) is sheer eye candy, perfectly setting the ambient mood for what’s to come.

“To hell with the common.
I lost interest to follow the herd,
please sell me to the devil i’m about to summon.”

Sometimes, nothing much appears to be what it seems … so, why not throw caution to the wind, live it wild ‘n free, the way so many would love to be!

I truly admire your creative metaphors – with their vibrantly-vivid, emotive impact, and what conscientious poetess or poet could help but admire your spot-on line-breaks, the way you’ve utilized soft and exact rhymes to set rhythm and hold the reader’s interest with fascinating imagery throughout … obviously, NOT your first poetic rodeo.

How relatably beautiful your pen’s voice speaks to the captive mind’s-eye, Drieks.
Wondrously shared, Dear Poetess! ⁓ Richard🖌️

The metaphor of “Indiana Jones-ing” through depression is brilliant, painting the struggle as a reckless adventure where survival is uncertain. The imagery of webs, eight-legged freaks, and sanity creaking creates a vivid sense of entrapment of a mind pushed to its limits. What stands out the most is the refusal to conform, the rejection of the common, the questioning of perfection. It’s a voice screaming against expectation, demanding to be understood rather than advised.

I had a similar experience with my father.
It’s took me decades to understand his silence
But like you somewhere down the line I found a pen that allowed me to write and I never looked back.
Years later after so much need that went unanswered I finally made peace with his silence. He loved his family, he just wasn’t vocal for for whatever reasons. On my wedding day he did speak a loving dedication to my wife and I. I carry that in my heart.
He was a fine father now gone 26 years. I think of him everyday and when I need guidance I find him on my shoulder with silent wisdom.

I wish you godspeed, if he’s alive there’s perhaps still time Daniel

No Judgments

BIG LIKE your write ✍

Daniel, this both beautiful and sad. I’m so sorry your father felt like a ghost to you. For me, it was my mother who dropped the ball at motherhood. She pushed my father away from us children. He was a good man, but she wouldn’t allow me to get to know him.
Think about this, bad things happen sometimes to push us forward, to make us stretch and grow. I believe you have, Daniel.

Writing is the best thing I’ve ever done. I will surely keep doing me as it is more powerful than any medication.

Beautifully penned, LDF. Such depth in this write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

I hear you everyday LDF

Your journey has a path and a straight ahead cause….

BIG LIKE