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His eyes search for love as a dusky fog lays itself quietly upon the seaside village.
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His eyes search for love as a dusky fog lays itself quietly upon the seaside village. Wrinkled expressions and reflections from the mirror conveys dismay at her experience.

Soft satin caresses her as the morning work clothes go on. Hair, wet and curly fly's behind her as she heads through traffic to get to the office and yet another day’s existence.

He remains with images of dark, dehumanized faces floating about her closet. They do not pass the door jam. Floating this way and that, cries and laughter flow from their colored mouths. Foreign tongues spill out; he rolls out of her bed.

The mirror has become sticky solid. Fingers leave behind the imprint of famous faces from the past. They stare at the floating faces and smile.

The air conditioner knows no kindness as hungry bees it belches out. Bzzz-bzzz, sting, slap

The bees attack the mirror; the faces smile no longer.

He enters the room. All kindness and delight. Sexuality breathes out of him the time has come. But why now? She says to herself.

He sat alone, wondering as a blue haze of death descended on his eyes, his vision was that of cataracts.

A weekend of curious events. made every more perplexing through introspection.

Sleek metal speeding on extruded rails. Wheels turn, windows close. Lights out.

She said he was good.

If only the world fell apart, slowly, one ounce of dirt at a time. Falling into space, followed by one ounce of water. Then one ounce of flesh. One ounce at a time. Until there is no more world. It shall be as if the earth is crying.

They tumble randomly thought the vacuum of space. She disappears in front of his very eyes. A deadly magic for certain.

Soon the flesh and entrails are gone. Only bone remains. Bones he once loved. They to begin their descent. From feet to skull, ounce by ounce, they disappear.

Her heart floats, beating. He begins to come apart, the pain unspeakable. Ounce by ounce he disappears from this third planet.

His heart tears away from the veins and arteries it once fed. It thumps into space, in search of her.

They melt and join together.

Pressure explodes them. In a million pieces a million light years from earth they descend.

The pieces soak into fertile soil where trees that bear forth fruit soak up the nourishment of alien hearts.

A hand reaches up and grasps. grasps that which hangs. they bite, it invokes electric surges of pain. soon its dark warmth sets off floods that invoke ancient feelings.

Soon he is swept along pulsing waterways to lodge in thick red muscle, a heart, he has a home.

The body he inhabits knows only peculiar feelings at the moment.

It shall soon begin a search for that other heart. He must have that other heart. He will know through these new eyes when he has once again found her.

In the indistinct distance he sees her. Her hips, so fine. her breasts, smooth, divine. Those legs that do not stop. But it is those eyes, so mesmerizing, that he must have. Those lips that he wants on his, as they twist, relax, slide up, slide down.

It is her.

Drowned in the sorrows of yesteryear, he dances a hapless dance as the night’s phenomena drowns out any memory. He thinks but cannot perceive any unity.

Oh for the refuge of faith! amidst all the dichotomies it is love he seeks. However, he is an indistinct image for loves eye.

In the end he hopes not to be overlooked.

Cover Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons

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It's Time To Thank Your First Roommate

Not the horror story kind of roommate, but the one that was truly awesome.
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Nostalgic feelings have recently caused me to reflect back on my freshman year of college. No other year of my life has been filled with more ups and downs, and highs and lows, than freshman year. Throughout all of the madness, one factor remained constant: my roommate. It is time to thank her for everything. These are only a few of the many reasons to do so, and this goes for roommates everywhere.

You have been through all the college "firsts" together.

If you think about it, your roommate was there through all of your first college experiences. The first day of orientation, wishing you luck on the first days of classes, the first night out, etc. That is something that can never be changed. You will always look back and think, "I remember my first day of college with ____."

You were even each other's first real college friend.

You were even each other's first real college friend.

Months before move-in day, you were already planning out what freshman year would be like. Whether you previously knew each other, met on Facebook, or arranged to meet in person before making any decisions, you made your first real college friend during that process.

SEE ALSO: 18 Signs You're A Little Too Comfortable With Your Best Friends

The transition from high school to college is not easy, but somehow you made it out on the other side.

It is no secret that transitioning from high school to college is difficult. No matter how excited you were to get away from home, reality hit at some point. Although some people are better at adjusting than others, at the times when you were not, your roommate was there to listen. You helped each other out, and made it through together.

Late night talks were never more real.

Remember the first week when we stayed up talking until 2:00 a.m. every night? Late night talks will never be more real than they were freshman year. There was so much to plan for, figure out, and hope for. Your roommate talked, listened, laughed, and cried right there with you until one of you stopped responding because sleep took over.

You saw each other at your absolute lowest.

It was difficult being away from home. It hurt watching relationships end and losing touch with your hometown friends. It was stressful trying to get in the swing of college level classes. Despite all of the above, your roommate saw, listened, and strengthened you.

...but you also saw each other during your highest highs.

After seeing each other during the lows, seeing each other during the highs was such a great feeling. Getting involved on campus, making new friends, and succeeding in classes are only a few of the many ways you have watched each other grow.

There was so much time to bond before the stresses of college would later take over.

Freshman year was not "easy," but looking back on it, it was more manageable than you thought at the time. College only gets busier the more the years go on, which means less free time. Freshman year you went to lunch, dinner, the gym, class, events, and everything else possible together. You had the chance to be each other's go-to before it got tough.

No matter what, you always bounced back to being inseparable.

Phases of not talking or seeing each other because of business and stress would come and go. Even though you physically grew apart, you did not grow apart as friends. When one of you was in a funk, as soon as it was over, you bounced right back. You and your freshman roommate were inseparable.

The "remember that one time, freshman year..." stories never end.

Looking back on freshman year together is one of my favorite times. There are so many stories you have made, which at the time seemed so small, that bring the biggest laughs today. You will always have those stories to share together.

SEE ALSO: 15 Things You Say To Your Roommates Before Going Out

The unspoken rule that no matter how far apart you grow, you are always there for each other.

It is sad to look back and realize everything that has changed since your freshman year days. You started college with a clean slate, and all you really had was each other. Even though you went separate ways, there is an unspoken rule that you are still always there for each other.

Your old dorm room is now filled with two freshmen trying to make it through their first year. They will never know all the memories that you made in that room, and how it used to be your home. You can only hope that they will have the relationship you had together to reflect on in the years to come.


Cover Image Credit: Katie Ward

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Poetry On The Odyssey: Chasing Daffodils

My Vision Is Clear

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views

In the day we chase daffodils

cradling their petals oh so delicately

as they fan their beauty in the sunlight

we hold white knuckled hands

ambling through the meadow

care free

but as the sky grows dark

and our vision blurs

that hand grows claws

painful to the touch, we release each other

and take off,

running so swiftly from the bears and the wolves and the vultures

that we forget to open our eyes

and find strength in each other

To combat these demons

with the force of a thousand warriors,

instead of silhouettes dancing in the night

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