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I don't want to be someone's mistress.


I don't want to be someone's second choice.

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Lyrics:


Fuel the fire while you sleep


With the oxygen that you breathe



Burn so brightly I can't see


Who designs your memories



Ashes tear like broken leaves


Embers glisten golden green



Birds have senses we can't feel


What defines our memories


 

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This may or may not sound like a depressing thought, and to a point, it kinda is. But the thought on my mind lately is: Are some people just meant to be alone?

Now, I don't mean for this to sound like some people are lonely and depressed every day of their lives. No, I mean are some people just meant not to be with other people? We feel complete with the silence that is our solitude. We don't feel stressed or strained to try and find other people. Infact, being around other people causes us to be stressed and strained.


Does being alone really always equate to being lonely?


I once heard a poem about all the amazing and fun things you can do when alone. You can go to a coffee shop alone and watch the people, take a walk through the woods to think, go to a club and enjoy the music. Yes, these are all great things to do once you've been given the choice of being alone.


But what if you don't like those things?

Is being able to get lost in our thoughts for hours on end such a bad thing? Is being comfortable and pleased with the silence we surrond ourselves with such a strange thing? Being able to entertain ourselves for hours on end with no real need to be around others, is that so strange?

Why do humans feel the need to constantly surrond themselves with noise and other beings? Why is it so strange that some of us simply prefer being alone? What's so strange about being able to sit and think about how utterly small we are in this huge universe? Or think about how much one life can actually mean? 

I don't think I'll ever find another to spend my life with. I don't think I'll ever feel comfortable in crowds. I don't think I'll ever be able to connect with another person like most people can.

But, then again, I don't think I'll ever be lonely.

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The day was filled with wishes 
They floated lazily through the sunshine, narrowly dodging the chubby fingers that snatched at them
They rippled slick surfaces, sinking into the waters of the fountains, pools and wells
They tumbled away on eager breaths, blown from puckered mouths
 
The day was filled with wishes, but I will let them slip away
I will not snatch them from the air, toss them to water, or blow them from my lips
I need none of their earnest avidities
My wishes live already in my heart and in my arms

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To see a selection of my records, go HERE.


 


(Album cover, not a stand alone text. Sorry for the confusion  :)


 


 

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by Mantia
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FRAME 1


Boy is at home, browsing the internet, looking up the news.


Phone rings. His mom tells him to go and have lunch with her.


Gets dressed and goes out.


Walks.


Passes by a mime artist. Keeps walking. Turns and enters the park.


Passes by a fire dancer. Keeps walking.


Arrives at mother's home. Enters. Kisses her.


They start talking in the kitchen. He looks at the fridge magnets, randomly placed, round and tiny: two blue, one red, four black. He gathers them all, ready to be used.


His mother laughs and kisses him.


They sit and eat. His mother removes someting from his hair: a tiny insect.


"You came through the park again."


He smiles.


We see the grouped magnets on the fridge.


Their voices in the background.


 


FRAME 2


Boy is at home, browsing the internet, looking up the news.


While browsing he stumbles on www.hitrecord.org.


He is intrigued. He signs in. He chooses his portrait and clicks the red button to release it.


Instantly he finds himself in the web. He sees records everywhere. Some are just about to hit him, so he has to jump. He falls into a text record. Looks around. Laughs. Re-shuffles the words and jumps out and then quickly into an illustration. He is turned into a drawing himself and runs to see how it feels. He then climbs on a tree and jumps, falling into a photo, a seascape. He dives into the sea and swims into another record, an audio one. He looks at the notes and hears a music that reminds him of a part of himself he had forgotten. He tries to memorize it when all the notes go on the same line and riiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!


Phone rings.


The boy unwillingly gets up.


His mom tells him to go and have lunch with her.


Gets dressed and goes out.


Walks.


Passes by a mime artist. Stops. The mime looks at him and bows. The boy smiles back.


Keeps walking. Turns and enters the park.


Passes by a fire dancer. Stops. The dancer looks at him and smiles. He bows back.


Keeps walking.


Arrives at mother's home. Enters. Kisses her.


They start talking in the kitchen. He looks at the fridge magnets, randomly placed, round and tiny: two blue, one red, four black.


He creates a happy face with them: blue eyes, red nose, a smile.


His mother laughs and kisses him.


They sit and eat. His mother removes someting from his hair: a sprig.


"You came through the park again."


He smiles.


We see the happy face on the fridge.


Their voices in the background.


 


FRAME 3


The magnet happy face winks at us and turns into words:


Your true butterflies: your choices.

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by Mantia
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Another year of deceit.
Another year of treachery and lies.
Another year of gambling with those around me.
Another year of traveling.
Another year of playing mind games and making sure no one knows how much they mean to me.
Another year of hoping that the people around me won’t find out I’m a lie and reject me.
Another year of praying that I don't survive crossing my street in the morning and again in the afternoon.
Another year of making sure that no one can hurt me and making myself immortal.
Another year of wishing an empty happy birthday to myself.

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by Pyro925
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I'm the good kind of crazy you only hear about in stories and see in movies. the kind of crazy who gives more than just second chances. the kind of crazy who falls for people and isn't ashamed of it. the kind of crazy who sticks up for friends even if they don't they think they need it. I'm that kind of crazy who would rather be alone with the one person he thought the world of than be in a room full of people he's kind of okay with. I'm that level of crazy who has a bigger heart than most will ever have or even know about. I'm the kind of crazy who goes out of his way just to put a smile on people's faces.I'm on that chapter of crazy that's all about being brave enough to tell the person I care about that I care and actually mean it. I'm the kind of crazy who believes in the power of a good hug. I'm the kind of crazy who name drops his friends instead of celebs he met one time. I'm the kind of crazy who wishes and hopes alot more than he steals or borrows. I'm that crazy guy who's not ashamed to be seen crying. I'm the kind of crazy who tell how you're feeling without you saying a single word. I'm that nut bar crazy lunatic who knows how hard it is to be around someone you care about alot and every time you hug that person you wish they'd hold on to you longer cause for that brief period of time you feel safer and happier than ever and I know that because that guy is often me.

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this one time when I was a kid during a p.e class I did what I usually did, which was lay down in the school's field and watch the clouds but this one time it was different. on that one special day, after awhile a girl I liked alot that year who I've known since third grade, came over and asked me what I was doing so I explained. she asked if she could lay down with me and I said yeah. we spent a good half hour or so staring at clouds and telling each other what we saw. eventually one of her hands somehow found one of my hands and she held it and me being me I was beyond afraid of looking at her so I just kept staring at the clouds. that was probably the nicest event ever to happen me during elementary school . I didn't even care that we got yelled at by our teacher or that my few friends were making jokes and her friends were making jokes. I had a nice moment with a girl I really liked and in many ways I still love that girl who stole my heart in fifth grade. sure she's probably changed alot by now cause it's natural but in my memory we're frozen in time on that field, holding hands and staring up at the clouds.

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the way Canon Price's eyes light up like little fireworks just got set off inside them and how they always come with a heart stopping smile when she sees someone whom she misses and cares about or is genuinely happy, is a sight I'm sure many people have seen but I doubt most of them cherish that look that makes it seem like everyone and everything else are gone except for you and her then being able hold on to that look,that smile and those eyes, in their memory and end up taking a picture with a mental camera the way morons like me do

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I really really really really miss the days of owning an empty cardboard box and thinking it could take me anywhere my imagination could think of. same goes for the times I spent building cardboard box forts. I also miss being a kid and laying in the field at my elementary school and staring up at the clouds. I even miss getting yelled at by my p.e teacher for doing that and getting confused looks from my classmates. I really miss all the crushes who made me incredibly nervous whenever they came by me. I miss my first dog and my second dog and my first cat and my first hamster. . I miss climbing trees that seemed to go on forever and hiding in them. I miss swinging on swing sets and jumping off when the swing reached the right point. I miss faking sick so I could stay home from school so I could watch tv and be away from the people in school I didn't like because they didn't like me . I even miss being afraid of girls I liked because when I seldom had the courage to talk to them I felt braver than ever. I miss riding my bike and feeling like I was the fastest kid alive when I rode it. I miss the way I felt when my fifth grade crush kissed me and I wasn't ready for it. I miss how summer days lasted longer and how I could go on rides at theme parks over and over and over again and not get tired of it. I miss pizza day at school. I miss sneaking candy in my pockets when I went to school. I miss being afraid of scary movies that don't scare me at all anymore.I miss the way it felt to be the kid who could suck on a war head candy longer than anyone else. I really miss valentine's day as a kid even though I never had one and I was always afraid to tell the girl I liked "happy valentine's day". I really really really miss my dad even though he could be a total jerk sometimes and do things I never understood and will never understand. I miss putting on a cape and thinking if I ran fast enough I could fly because I had the cape on. I miss her, I miss the last girl I really had feelings for. I miss the way everything seemed bigger to me than it does now. I miss all the friends who somehow drifted away from me or I drifted away from them. I miss having every door open even though I didn't know they were open.I miss being a kid even though I never knew it at the time that being a kid was the ultimate freedom. I miss the feeling that anything was possible because I didn't no any better. I miss not knowing how fragile everyone and everything truly is and how things and people especially people don't last as long as they should.most of all though I miss the feeling of only have forward to look to.

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She had seven little secrets - one for every time she got sad. And she never shared any of them, because no one ever asked. More precisely, people did not even ask for her name. It had all begun that November, she was home alone, gazing out of the window, hypnotized by the dancing snowflakes. Suddenly she heard a booming voice. Familiar and yet unknown.

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by Mantia
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