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jute bags and lychees

jute bags and lychees,  they're not similar right?  i'm new, and i know that one's a fruit, and the other's not really edible, my brain whispers within itself,  "that's gotta be a stupid observation"  but i wonder why,  i saw a father and a daughter, carrying jute bags and lychees. the daughter, tiny, still curious about the world,  the father, making sure his daughter holds just enough weight to not burden her, but to still let her carry her own.  as i moved past them, and they from me,  the little girl waived at me, with the same hand with the jute bag carrying the lychees, the other still holding her father's hand.  i didnt know the jute bags had lychees in them,  till that little girl waived, and a few tumbled down across the street from the bag,  I'm new, and a few lychees roll down on the street,  its evening, the hues make it seem almost like,  it was meant to happen.  seeing what had happened, the father was e...
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bitterness of lillies.

  if patience against malice has a name, let it not be muttered, for all the saints would know better to weep, than to criticise first, let the bitterness of lillies be shrunk to fit into a palm, for anger cannot be grasped longer for than when it is yearned,  let these ill desires be named and those names be ruined,  for this will be a place constructed not in time, but by time, and hidden forms of deep caves would be found in reflections, not of mirrors and rivers,  but in words, all soft and muttered, and in the loud ones too.  so heave and leave, for the bitterness of lillies shall always remain pure,  and the quicker the wickedly warms you up, the better you'd be played against your desires.  ~ sb

Solidarity or Solitary?

on the 10th day, you do look back,  and you see traces of your steps following you on that same muddy trail, and you have returned to that place, you aren't shocked seeing them, thinking they are not yours, you see your footprint, carved in the mud, its of a shoe, and you are wearing flip-flops now. you look down at your feet, knowing you have fresh footprints you are about to leave ahead, which will not match the previous ones, and you think, anyone else who witnesses these two sets of footprints, if they get as far in the mud as yourself, will not know they are the same person's. you realise nobody will know, nobody will know of those 10 days, but you do not stop realising there,  you go further to think that nobody might even care to differentiate. where you stand now, you see you are not far from that cliff, which you had seen 10 days before,  you are exactly where you left your journey, you are exactly where you turned back. somehow this time, you aren't as prepared...