14 posts
  • rawlollipop_360 41w

    Thanks to @cyan_rose for this amazing challenge idea!!!

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    Isn't it amazing how our planet moves in space without being contained,
    how an invisible force, called Wind sweeps across the Earth, and
    how everything grows and dies each day?

    Have you ever thought that
    each person has an individual story to tell,
    how someone out in the world shares your name, and
    how when someone is born another might be fading?

    All the mysteries
    of people and nature
    persist on the days in which
    my mind is occupied by

    All the mysteries
    unsolved or not
    gifts me with happiness
    to live in a world of true

  • raindropsoncacti 41w

    "Tsunami of Spin"

    How how oh how can it be that at morning I had words none
    By midday I could just manage a handful
    Yet come midnight, an army of three thousand of them held me at ransom; a written firing line. A garrison of garbage verbosity, me in a siege at gunpoint?
    I with nothing absolutely NOTHING to quick-draw McGraw back at them besides a steely blank stare through my page.

    The words, they've overwhelmed me... they've flowed like a great molasses flood.
    I am trapped, trying to grasp at a steadfast phrase or sturdy sensible paragraph yet nothing... Nothing more than a plethora of diatribe debris, riding waves of the thick syrupy threat of surrender and failure, surround me.

    The very words I was certain I not just chose, but loved, even cherished, at the time of their selection. They were beautiful! Perfect forms. Christalline, radiating truth and wisdom.
    All now seem dull when coated in absoshear (apparently that's insomniac for "absolute shame and fear").

    Unable to discern which to rescue and which to allow to succumb they all instead are rendered discarded in scum...
    Semantics I decided before were genius now scream:


    They remain scattered and cast aside.
    I've turned my back. These words to me now all look so foreign, pointless, as ineffective as a Christmas Tree decorated to perfection turned stale, standing on the side of the road for no good reason, no purpose, randomly in mid September.

    As weird and unable to achieve anything as painting my walls with the essence of a number,
    Or carpeting my floors with the sound a squeaky-toy makes.
    These things can't be harnessed and used! They're abstract and impossible!
    I observe how my tangent is not tangible.



    I flap-flap-flap-flap-flap-flap-flap my hands...

    f r e e e e e e e e a k!!!!!!!!

    I'm failing. I'm failing. I'm hissing frequent other flavoursome "F-words" from my frank, colourful mouth...


    How how oh how am I going to stay afloat in pages of words in substance this chunky and viscose?
    My throat is filled yet I'm unable to swallow or eject these words.
    How will I reach a bank? How will I get out? Maybe I won't?!
    But I have to... I have to salvage the words I need amongst the drenched tacky cornucopia of ones I sure don't.

    Someone... Send me a lifeboat. A personal floatation device. A rope. A winch. Something!
    For I'm running out of time.
    I'm drowning.
    I'm drowning in a torrent... a tsunami of spin.
    I'm without a vessel nor steady ground to save myself.

    Dit dit dit... Dah dah dah... Dit dit dit...
    Dit dit dit... Dah dah dah... Dit dit dit...


  • zohiii 41w

    ʜᴀᴘᴘɪɴᴇss ɪs ᴀ ғᴀʀᴄᴇ

    you have these odd ways of injecting happiness into you. the sentence from the book, off the shelves of the bygone library where solitude occupies the voids, impacted you profoundly. "to value joy, grief has to be confronted." you read it slowly with a desire to let it sink in you, but instead, you drowned in it.

    when life throws you down, you don't retaliate, you let it kick and bash you as a bully does, soaking in the pain with a smile. you deeply feel that it is necessary. on rainy morns, you lay your eyes and peer out of the window awaiting happiness, like a mother in pursuit of a pulseless child.

    you scatter around old letters to feel older; tracing your fingers across the rough texture of the paper stained with coffee, gives you the nostalgia of a time that lives in them. it's painful and you embrace it with a grin; you say you do it for conspicuous reasons but the esoteric meaning lends you a moment of wisdom.

    in the same library, you read one more sentence in a similar book. "sometimes happiness is not what we are looking for." you remember your father telling you to not believe strangers and you erred; you bought in the lies of an uncanny book.

    now you're lost and your smile is wearing off but you gather the dispersed fragments of your heart in your heavy and sweaty hands. you feel numb because it's too late. happiness waves you from a distance, but it doesn't budge you. you're too tired to embrace her, so you silently walk past leaving a wet trail of pain.

    you don't trust anymore, cause you did once, and it took a hefty toll on you; you capsized into sorrow never to surface again. even though you're drenched in morose waters with sunlight dying, you're too exhausted to care. for the last time, you trust the aqua of agony to fill your guts and set you free; one last time to breathe free, and never breathe again.


    Couldn't think of a better title!

    @veloc1ty_ the efficacy with which you write the second person perspective is second to none. I tried replicating and then ad libbing the rest. It's nothing compared to yours though, enlighten me!

    @bluepuppy01 finally, attempted your challenge!

    #pod #mirakee #writersnetwork
    @mirakee @writersnetwork #ceesreposts

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  • sksfantasy_girl 41w

    Your trust is broken by yourself

    Is keep doing
    the task
    its completed
    what you wanted
    to achieve
    which holds you
    known as faith
    if you stop doing it
    you will loose it
    with yourself
    nature will replace
    you with someone else
    Who is willing,
    You will be dismissed
    end up in suffering hell
    the sin is betrayl to divine.

    When you loose faith keep doing with all potential the same thing where you loos.
    Think why had you lost yourself?
    Kindly solve and accept what you had done wrong and this time think out of the box and tame the evilness in you for ever.
    Without playing wrong deeds to stop the outer cycle cause its time to look inside.
    You are under curse casted by yourself though sentenced
    No resurrection

  • outofleague 41w

    Hey You!
    Who read the above line
    and still continuing to read..

    If you are still reading
    lets keep you entertained
    otherwise you might leave.

    That's OK. Everyone leaves eventually.
    But, it's kind of weird for me
    as a "pre-written text" that
    you have not been entertained
    as you were promised and yet
    you are still reading this.

    So let me tell you something..
    I mean.. you need to keep reading
    this.. if you want to know
    what is going to be informed to you.

    Since we have cleared all formalities,
    are you trying to rush reading this ?
    Please don't. It hurts when someone
    recognizes they are not valued
    as an identity.

    Wait, what Identity
    do I have in the first place ?
    Sorry.. for a moment
    I forgot about the priority
    to entertain you.

    You see, right at this moment
    with every passing alphabet
    that you are following
    with your justified pace,
    you are not the one reading
    it is the silent voice within
    your head that is reading it out.

    Here, shout this word
    without making a noise:

    The thing is
    no one "except" you knows
    how loud that voice screamed, isn't it.

    But, that's not the problem.
    Problem is where is the space
    that is capable of creating
    a vocal platform for you
    to read this "pre-written text".

    Nice talking..
    with yourself.
    Just don't hurry..
    to leave me.



    #blue_bored #hollow #meeting
    Picture Courtesy: Manu M / Unsplash

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  • sksfantasy_girl 41w

    Why this flesh is that much paralysed that soul is unable to oppose?
    Is soul is that dumb?
    Then why it never speak highly so that her voice can banish the wicked control.
    Sometimes i think there are two me
    Mind create chaos;its ok i understand
    Why soul is silent and don't work to be a disaster for mind?
    Then i think,
    Soul is also impure
    Mind is just a reciever
    From where all these thought come?
    I tried to find the location of good and bad towers
    Today i ended like its the same spot.
    Why goodness becomes silent and silent
    So that i reached to that level;where i can only experience duffer devil
    As my flesh turned tarcoal while once it was red wine
    As a spark of light is possible to ignite fire
    Did all those sparks also lost like ignorant player or something inside me never rubbed to exist?
    Obiously i become an aesthetic puppet like showpiece can be termed as boredom as i can't visualise or create colors in fresh moment because i am lost in heaviness of fear and ego.
    It scares more and more like forcely dragged down.
    Those thoughts who are seeds of poison to freeze the body in the place of unknowingness.
    I thinks evil always try to enslave us cause that place is without self-control.
    It feels heavy stones blocked me in cold cave of pungent death.

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    Hard to control
    Oppose my mind
    Something beyond
    Personal capacity
    Distorting me as
    I can't think anything else
    This is period of imprisonment
    With no timing
    Until i can found
    key to unlock
    Own dungeon
    Everything is happening against my will
    Still no confidence
    To be free as it has timing lawsuit

  • ablaze_writer 41w

    #littlemorality #alittkewait #blue_bored #ceereposts
    Aah I really forgot to tag you bud cause this was literally inspired from your challenge although they are not boredom thoughts but thoughts I often have.

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    And sometimes I see the things
    don't go the way I want them to be
    With no choice left
    I curse myself
    But really am I to be blamed
    I think not
    Cause there are some situations
    Which don't do justice to my plans
    So it isn't very great of you to bother
    With my failure
    Not knowing the struggle I had put in
    Will not give you the right to
    Comment on my efforts that were gone in vague
    I quest you to sit by and wait
    Cause one day you will beg
    The patience and help in only my range

  • cyan_rose 41w

    Inspiration for this challenge:

    Ok, so like an hour ago, I just got on my phone, went into the Mirakee app, clicked on the pen thing indicating to write something, and then just started typing the first things that came to my head because I was (still am) overcome by boredom...that's legit what y'all'll be doing.


    (Lol the title reminds me of the raindrop challenge thing)

    Just open up something (whether that be some writing document, a notebook, or just the Mirakee app) and start writing down the constant thoughts that pop into your head one by one.

    The point is not to make sense (so don't worry about that).
    The point is to literally capture the moment.

    ✒Just do- don't think.

    �� Don't imagine how you could convey those thoughts better- just collect those thoughts in this one piece (perhaps you can revisit them later & create a separate piece to add on to an idea that came across your mind as those thoughts were freely flowing out.)

    ~no plagiarism

    ~English only

    ~any length

    ~use these tags in the caption:

    ~Comment below "Mission Accepted" if you decide to participate

    ��‍♀️ The ones I did are already under the tag if you need an example

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    Bored Thoughts

  • bluepuppy01 41w

    ��‍♀️ (Part 3)
    Just realized I used bugs
    In both of these
    "I have no idea what I'm writing" posts
    One in a picture (let's not talk about that particular insect though)
    The other in written form

    Figured that's an incentive
    To create a part three
    Cuz why the heck not?
    Might as well do something else
    In an attempt to relieve myself
    Of this "having nothing to do" syndrome

    I wonder how long I can keep this going-
    Will it turn into a neverending spiral
    Of subtly rhythmic formations of words
    Streaming out of my consciousness?
    Ah, now I'm curious��
    Like, for real:
    How many of these could I make
    If I'm forever awake
    And capable of typing away
    At these flat buttons of alphabetic characters eternally?

    What if Boredom leaves me alone first?
    Then what?
    Would I be left paralyzed cognitively?
    Would my hands, too,
    Become numb and frozen stiff
    Because Boredom stopped messing
    With the remote that controls me?

    Oh, right...just remembered
    I was supposed to add a bug or something
    To this piece that ended up not including one so far
    Technically, anyways...
    ��Hmm...a bug?...
    Aw man!��
    My mind just went blank
    Oh well..
    Let's just cheat and say
    That when I used the word "bug"
    It counts as accomplishing my original prompt
    For this third, random stream of thought


    #blue_bored #cyanentry
    #bluepup #prettypic281
    Lol I figured a pic of a remote would be boring/ugly, hence this����‍♀️
    Realized I wanted to have a bug in this pic too so I just doodled one real quick

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    ‍♀️ Part 3

  • bluepuppy01 41w

    ��‍♀️ (Part 2)
    Okay, let's keep this random stream of thought flowing
    'Cause I can't seem to get rid of this boredom
    That has befallen upon my being

    What should I type now?
    Not quite sure
    Now that I'm purposely trying to capture
    Random thoughts before they flee
    Like grasshoppers in a field
    From predatorially curious hands
    Of the beast known as a child
    Thinking back- is predatorially even a word��
    Whatever- let's pretend it is if it isn't

    Now that I'm aware of my randomosity
    I can't seem to think of much else
    Because they're not so random anymore
    But rather thoughts trying to say
    Something that perhaps makes more sense
    Than the words in the piece that came before this
    Conscious rivers are weird things
    Whether what flows in them
    Be liquid or intangible nonsense...


    #blue_bored #bluepup #cyanentry

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    ‍♀️ Part 2

  • bluepuppy01 41w

    ��‍♀️ (Part 1)
    Still bored as you can see
    Typing random lines on Mirakee
    Through a phone that used to be
    One my mother used before me

    Thumb nails tap away on the screen
    Having naturally long nails is fun indeed
    The sound effect is rather pleasing
    L.o.l. why does such a little thing make me happy
    And distract me or rather guide me
    To continue typing these odd first thoughts coming
    To this mind that's still just walking
    Perhaps floating since minds don't have feet��
    Nah, nevermind- they can't fly either
    Yeah, I have no idea what I'm talking about anymore...


    #blue_bored #bluepup #cyanentry

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    ‍♀️ Part 1