Activity
-
Heather shared a letter in the
To my younger self group 2 months, 2 weeks agoStaircase
HeatherI sit with my internal child outside on the stairs, because I know she wants me to.
She giggles so softly.
Her dimples shine so brightly.
She tells me about her day on the playground swing.
We share a bowl of cheetos, the puffs kind.
We make pictures out of the clouds in the sky.
She sees a puppy. I see a pig.
We even forget about the thing of time.
We get lost in the freshness of Spring air.
Dreaming of what the fields of life has in store for us.
I sit with my inner child outside on the stairs because all she wants is individual love. -
Heather shared a letter in the
To my younger self group 2 months, 2 weeks agoFrozen Yogurt Date
HeatherIf we’re playing a game of “I believe,”
I’d like to believe there are past versions of me that get together for frozen yogurt.
They all talk about who I once was
And how I’ve hit all those curveballs of life out of the park.
They don’t “boo” the swings.
Yell rude comments.
Or bring up some of the strikes I’ve received.
They meet for frozen yogurt and cheer me on every single day.
During every single game of life played. -
Ruth Liew shared a letter in the
Remembering those we lost/Grief group 2 months, 3 weeks agoLetter to my Ex
Ruth LiewI am sorry that I couldn’t take all that is clay in you and throw it hard on some wheel
Turn a heavy mug with a nice curve
The kind everyone loves at craft fairsAnd I am sorry
That you couldn’t take all that’s sand in me
To apply mortar and water sufficiently
For a solid level
SlabMostly
I feel sorry
That our needs and lacks
Exceeded
Our expertise…. ….
With much regret I took from you
One ruby and two emeralds
Luckily you found tourmaline and garnets
To sustain you
And one diamond who is never disrespectful at the dinner tableI regret leaving our house of brick and mortar
For a trailer without a floor and a life without sleep
Honestly I was just glad to rest my head against a wall that didn’t shout
So I left anyway, regrets and all.Regretfully sorry,
The person that was Your Wife so long ago -
Kendra Bendewald shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 2 months, 4 weeks agoBi-Polar
Kendy BendewaldOutside my body
Looking in
It’s time to alert
My last of kinI’m not myself
Think I’ve gone crazy
The last few days
Have been quite hazyWhat am I thinking?
Have I gone nuts?
I’m acting insane
And I’m dressed like a slutMy middle finger
In the air
I’m drunk by noon
And i’ve cut my hairCouldn’t give a fuck less
If I get in trouble
Speed limit’s 30,
I’m doing doubleBlaring music
Hysterically screaming
Everything’s foggy
I must be dreaming
Met up with some new friends
Guess it’s high time to go ghost
On the people around me
That care about me the mostThey’ll know exactly
What this all means
They’ll try and stop it
And I’ll cause a sceneMy mom will exclaim
“Oh, fuck, she’s gone manic!”
And when you look at her face
You can see she’s started to panicBut what everyone here
Is failing to realize
Is that a manic episode
Is like winning the grand prizeI’m having a great time
I just quit my job
I’ve pounded a fifth
And i’m making kabobsI don’t wanna come down
I don’t wanna stop it
Won’t take medication
So you might as well drop itSo I’m watching my alter
Destroy all that I’ve built
She won’t even slow down
Doesn’t understand guiltGive it a week
And I’ll snap back to reality
But I’ll be so fucking depressed
That I’ll crave that mentalityNo one can wake me
For almost a week
But when they finally do
I’m empty and bleakI’d rather be mental
Blissfully crazy
Than low, sad, or sleepy,
Vacant and lazyIt’s no easy task
Living life with bi-polar
Cause when she gets on a good one
Even I can’t control herStyle Score: 80
-
Martha Moore shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 3 months agoPlanted Roots
Martha MooreDeep inside
You’ve planted roots
I can feel you taking over
I am a subject in your kingdom
You are the king and queen of my whole being
Darkness that no light can penetrate
My ruler, my Lord, my curse
You grow bigger and stronger everyday
I simply wither away
Hoping to stand clear of drowning
There is no place in my mind to feel safe
To be safe
I am a haunted house
Controlled by you
Never ending reels in my house of horror
Never forget
I’m trapped in my past
I can’t find my way back home -
Lillith Campos shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 3 months agoFor Emily
Lillith Raine CamposThis was written November 26th, 2020. I had been struggling with the death of a friend; it happened to hit a little too close to home for me. I had a sense of survivor’s guilt. I felt that it should have been, could very easily have been me. It wreaked havoc on my mental state for months, thus my therapist suggested writing this in her memory. I remember it as if it happened yesterday, my therapist being so compassionate but also cautioning me, bracing me, making sure I understood that being a part of this community, Emily will not be the only person I lose to suicide or even murder. We as trans people do not have a long-life expectancy.
So, we need a little back story. I met Emily in December in a support group on Facebook for depression, anxiety and suicide. She is a transgender woman like myself. She is 25 years old and would have been 26 this month. Her and another transwoman we met in that group bonded rather quickly over not just our suicidal ideations, self-harm and depression, but also from all 3 of us sharing the trials and tribulations of being transgender in this shit hole of a country.
Her family disowned her for being trans, and very rarely used the correct pronouns. She was kicked out of her home yet was able to find an apartment where she lived in Atlanta. She hated being trans. She was happier on hormones of course but still hated the fact she was not a cis woman. She was in enormous debt from so many medical Bill’s due to numerous suicide attempts and being hospitalized in psych wards. In the 4 months we knew each other she probably spent 5 or 6 weeks in a psych ward. She was of the mind she would fake it until she made it, meaning whatever she had to do to get off suicide watch. She swore once her medical bills were paid off, she would end it. She planned to wait because she did not want to stick the family that disowned her with the medical bills.
She was always thinking about others and loved to please people. We all became very close in such a short amount of time. When she was in the psych hospital, we would call daily to check on her. She attempted three times in the time I knew her, once with a noose but the rope broke. Twice with pills, the last one resulting in seizures and a hospital stay before another psych stay.
We had an agreement between the three of us. We knew how depressed we were. We knew we all longed for death, and we hated how people were trying to keep us alive when all we wanted was to die. How could people be so selfish? So, we gave each other permission to die. We would not try to talk each other out of it because we understood each other. We agreed that what we would do was to at least say goodbye to the others in the group. Give the others a chance to say goodbye and that we love each other one last time. That did not happen. Emily left us and we did not get to say goodbye to her.
I really want to be mad at her for that, but I understand her pain. I understand her fear that we would try and talk her out of it. I am so very sad that I lost her, but I am comforted in the knowledge that she Isn’t suffering anymore. Emily confided in me outside of our group chat a couple of times that one thing that was keeping her going was she did not want others to be sad about her loss. And that she feared Rose (the other one in our group) would kill herself if in fact either one of us did kill ourselves. Rose mentioned as much that she would do that.
We must do better as humans. Misgendering takes such a toll on us. The things we go through daily wears us down every day, and it seems like this entire country is on a witch hunt with us being the witches (I’m pagan but people just say witches). We are slowly being killed off by mental illness due to the struggles of being transgender. And those struggles, those mental illnesses are caused from outside influences 99 percent of the time.
We need to talk about this more openly. So many suffer from depression and suicidal ideation. We must remove the stigma from this topic. People have to stop being afraid to talk about it. RIP Emily Nicole Brown. I will miss you.
Here Is the link to her blog. You will get a better mindset of her thinking. http://www.emilythetransgirl.wordpress.com
-
Vicki Lawana Trusselli shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 3 months, 1 weeks agoPSYCHOLOGY OF PROJECTION
Vicki Lawana TrusselliDear Unsealed,
PSYCHOLOGY OF PROJECTION
The theory of the psychology of projection is a phenomenal viral situation in 2024.
There are people who project their ill feelings, anger, insecurities onto the closest empath standing in their way.
You spewed obscenities at me that day
As you do everyday
you blame me for your failed attitude
that is not subdued
I ask you why
Why do you project your insecurities onto me
You reply
It’s all your fault
It’s my fault you say
No, you just caught
In another lie
I sigh
Why?
You yell at me
You are nothing to me
So, let it be
I cry
I say
No
I could be your fake friend
Until the end
So, then you yell
To me
Not let it be
But cruel words of anger
That makes you a danger
To my world
To your world
To all worlds
As you carry on
With your blaming me
For your misdeeds
Of unconscious reprimanding me
Or any other empath
The victim of your wrath
You are jealous and angry
You sit around spewing obscenities
Of hate and bigotry of amenities
And talents of other people on Earth
So, tell me,
For what it’s worth
How do you wake up everyday
To your vile words of insanity
Of what may be your reality
To trash the Earth
With your dark soul
Of cruel intentions of old
As your soul was sold
To the vile fiery hell of hades
Of your life of death,
Here what I say.
Your dark empty vessel of skin
Can not win
You are the demon of Earth
For what it’s worth
You are not anything
You are a blank empty soul
Of nothing
But your lies
Your ego
You cry, you scream
At me
Let it be
You are the epitome of humanity
Garbage dump
Dump Dump-
Vicki, I’ve never given much thought to the psychology of projection, but I can see how feelings projected onto an empathetic person would be detrimental to his or her well-being. When people with darkness inside them feel the need to bring down those who would do them no harm, it really shows their true nature. I hope that, as an empath, you can…read more
-
I am working on that with my therapist
-
-
-
Heather shared a letter in the
Remembering those we lost/Grief group 3 months, 1 weeks agoPersonal Bodyguards
HeatherWhen I see a tiny lizard or a gecko on the sidewalk, I see you & smell the softness of pancakes cooking in the kitchen.
When I see a black cat, I see you & instantly smell gingerbread cookies baking in the oven around Christmas time.
When I see a white Chevy truck, I see two young girls sitting in the bed of the truck embracing the moment of the wind blowing amongst their tiny faces after a fun filled day in the snow
When I see elder men wearing their “Veterans” hat, I see you standing before me. I feel the softness in the air. I see the gentleness of your soul standing amongst the crowd. I thank that individual for their service as I walk away.
When I see the color purple out in the world, I see you. When I’m at work & hear similar words from my clients, I think of you standing before me. When I see the card game “Go Fish” being played, I see two younger girls sitting at their grandmother’s table laughing til their tummy hurts.
When I see a yellow tractor, I see a young adult enjoying the time being spent with their grandfather. When I see a blue truck, I see you & start singing those old country songs we’d sing together.
No matter where I go in life, I see you.
I see all of you!
Wherever I go, you are right there guiding the way. The way to clarity. To beautiful blessings. To happiness. To calmness. To love.No matter the length of missing you, the memories, all of the memories will forever be shared.
Wherever I go in life, I know I have several bodyguards guiding me along my path. Protecting me.-
Heather, this piece makes my heart smile. We all have little ways of remembering those we lost in our day-to-day lives, and it brings us so much comfort. Whenever I see a butterfly hover near me, I feel like my aunt is giving me a hug. When I see a red bird, I feel comforted by my granny’s presence even though she’s been gone for years. Our…read more
-
-
Heather shared a letter in the
To my younger self group 3 months, 1 weeks agoChurch Parking Lot
HeatherI met my younger self on a Sunday morning in a church parking lot.
She looked as if she just saw God.
Hair golden blonde.
Eyes piercing blue.
Sun beaming on her young face.
She ran up to my car and jumped in the passenger seat.
Touching every button.
Opening every compartment.
Smiling.
Dimples radiating so big.
She looks over at me and with a smile as big as a car tire, she tells me, “We did it!”
She gives me such a huge hug, one that felt as if it was building up for years.
Smiles at me with such accomplishment.
Opens the car door and gradually skips away to the beat of her own drum.
As I watch that little girl skip away, I acknowledge her happiness.
Her joy. Her fulfillment.
I acknowledge the fear that once guarded her.
As I watch that little girl skip away, I remind myself that every achievement is not just for me, but for her as well.
She deserves the world.
She deserves achievements.
She deserves this moment right now.
Right here in the church parking lot.-
Heather, being able to look back and “see” yourself as a child gives you a glimpse of the innocence and uninhibited happiness that you possessed before life taught you to fear. While we all become disillusioned as we see the reality of the world, it is important to remember and appreciate the beauty in the journey. I am glad that you continue to…read more
-
-
Heather shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 3 months, 1 weeks agoDear Anxiety
HeatherHold my hand. Gently grab these fingers and walk with me.
I have something to share with you.
Let’s go for a walk.I know it’s in your nature to save me. To protect me.
I’m here to let you know, it’s okay.
I understand your job, but right now, your job is on hold.
I’ve got this now.
It’s time for you to take a break.I know it’ll be hard for you to come to terms with it, but I’m okay.
I’m safe now. I’ve found the middle ground.
You don’t need to cover me with your comfort shield.
I’ve got this. I promise.You can go lay down and rest.
Shut your eyes.
Silence the noise.
Relax.Sincerely,
Me-
Heather, I also suffer from anxiety and I can relate to what you wrote so much. Though our anxiety serves a purpose- to keep us safe and prepared- it also prevents us from finding joy in the uncertainties of life. Like you, I hope to find a middle ground that allows me to relax and enjoy my life while still being cognizant of what goes on around…read more
-
-
Noirerequiem shared a letter in the
To the people we love group 3 months, 2 weeks agoMy Letter 2 Music
AmbitiousBMarieDear Music,
You have been my first love, my most loyal companion, and my greatest storyteller. Before I even knew how to express myself fully, you spoke for me. You carried my joy, my pain, my anger, and my healing in melodies, in beats, in lyrics that felt like they were written just for me.
When the world felt too loud, you gave me rhythm. When silence was too heavy, you filled it with sound. You have never judged me for how I felt-you simply embraced me, wrapped me in harmonies, and let me be.
You have been my bridge to places I have never been, to people I have never met. You break barriers, crossing languages and cultures, bringing souls together in a way nothing else can. Through you, strangers have become family, and stories have been passed down like sacred traditions.
Whether I was dancing in joy, drowning in sorrow, or standing in quiet reflection, you have always been there. Guiding me. Holding me. Reminding me that I am not alone.
Thank you for your presence in every stage of my life. For being my escape, my therapy, my celebration. Thank you for giving me the courage to tell my own stories. I will always love you. I will always need you.Forever Yours,
AmbitiousBMarie-
Music has a way of helping us through our struggles like nothing else can, whether we realize it or not. If I am feeling broken and I listen to a specific song, sometimes it has the power to give me the strength to repair myself. If my heart is aching, a few ballads help me remember that I am not alone. I am glad that music has such an impact on…read more
-
Music is made from storytellers and poets like us. And it’s always great to appreciate it.
-
-
-
jismar submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoPoetry, I Love & Value Thee
Jiselle MarquezSpoken word
I am heard
From paper to presence
Poetry has given me unlimited expression
I am free
Oh how I do love theeTo have no judgements
No expectations
Only speaking from my highest vibrations
I radiate my lungs
I embody every room in which I stand
Taking my audience on my journey with me
From ear to ear
Rather than hand to handTo have aced every essay
To have read books in the summer
Who knew my calling was to be a poet or an author
No one shows you this is a feasible path
Discouraging you
Saying it’s impractical, unattainable
Only because they’ve never dreamed
of being outside an office or a cubicle
I won’t be naive, I won’t falter
Because for me this dream is anything but impossibleI love the way poetry makes me feel more myself
Every artist can tell you
It’s not for love of money
Not for approval or acceptance
With every note sung, brush stroke, or word spoke
We are emanating our deepest passionsWe are the few unafraid to allow our hearts to shine through
To be vulnerable & bare
To conquer our fear of public speaking
Standing alone on this stage
Yet I don’t feel alone
Sharing my truth with others
Yet it’s safe
It feels like homeCliché to say
But I’m thankful, grateful & blessed
I have found my passion
I withhold love for myself through my writing
& Perhaps call me old fashioned
But there’s nothing more sentimental
Than receiving a hand-written letter
Instead of this new age typingIt’s true paper will always beat rock
Because when my pen hits the paper
I fancy the way the ink glides
The world makes sense again
Writing letter by letter
Mastering my scribe
Curating every sentence
Every stanza
Every story with prideMy thoughts no longer jumbled
I can now see so clearly
I feel weightless
I feel untouchable
It has been my superpower for the world to hear me
Some people want to leave behind money or a legacy
For me—
I will have left my voice, my storyOh poetry, I love & value thee
Thank you for being a safe place for meVoting is closed
-
Jiselle,
I loved your letter to your gift of poetry! I also love that it is your highest vibration, as is authenticity! I also love to write handwritten letters, so if you want a penpal, something I have always wanted to do, I’d love to write to you! Enjoy your passion! -
Jiselle, this poem is absolutely gorgeous and definitely confirms your talent with words. I can relate to what you said about acing essays and reading books in the summer throughout childhood and adolescence. A love for reading and writing emerges when we are young and continues blossoming for our entire lives. Thank you for sharing your story!
-
You definitely captured what it means to write and possessing the artistry to craft a bridge between writer and reader. It was very beautiful to see that you captured what it means to be a poet, it was like looking into a mirror. Thank you for sharing
-
-
poeticaddiction_365 submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoPoetry Saved My Life
TracyCapturing the true essence of when
The love story began
I smile
Reminiscing on the rhymes
That made me laugh
Easy to create interesting patterns
Some so elementary
Yet so catchy
My words were my power
My emotions needed an outlet
My voice found a safe space
With each line
My love grew fonder
I felt more alive
Whenever I read my words
I was a bit surprised
A master in disguise
My pen was my secret weapon
The words I collectively gathered
Made me aware
That it wasn’t a mere coincidence
Once I started writing
I could never stop
Until I did for a brief period
When my mother passed away
I stumbled on a mental block
My passion had died
Until an angel came to rescue me
Reassuring me that I needed my own words
To revive me
My creativity had never left
I was lusting momentarily
But when my passion
Reminded me that the time was now
I knew that poetry was my true love
It definitely saved me!
Voting is closed
-
Tracy – it’s interesting to me whenever I discover how someone I’ve never laid eyes on has the potential to connect by experience. I too had a writers block for five years after my mother passed in 1991. I am rejoicing with you that your passion brought you back. Awesome work 👏🏽 👌🏾
-
Thank you Sandrea 🤗 my condolences to you and your family on your loss 🫂 Not many people can relate but when someone does it makes my heart smile ‘cause I always hope that my words resonate with at least one person every time I write ✍🏾📝
-
-
Tracy, I am so glad that you have revived your passion for poetry after your mother’s death. Though we sometimes lose that spark when we are grieving, it is important for us to find our way back as it has the power to comfort us. I hope that you continue writing as you are an inspiration! Thank you for sharing.
-
Thank you so much Emmy for your kind words they are much appreciated 🤗 I will continue writing in hopes that by sharing I am also inspiring and motivating others to share their stories and experiences too!
-
-
Your pen will always be your secret weapon and I’m so happy to know that your voice found a safe place . Your poems are your story and I’m so honored to read your story. Very heartfelt 💜
-
Thank you for acknowledging the magic of my pen 🤗 I truly appreciate you and your kind words! Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading; it was my pleasure to share glad this poem resonated with you 🫶🏾
-
-
-
khush submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoOpen, Unclench, Hold
Khush AsifYou have always been here, haven’t you?
Soft, steady, waiting. Unnoticed but never absent.
You have known the weight of my body when I could not stand,
the nervous tug of sleeves over trembling fingers,
the hush of palms pressed against my chest,
as if you alone could keep my heart from breaking open.You have held so much.
Tearstained pillows, quiet apologies, the ghosts of things I should have let go.
You have traced the spines of books that felt safer than people,
curled around the warmth of a teacup on nights that felt too long.
You have built and unbuilt—art, letters, love—
each stroke, each press, a silent rebellion against the fear of being forgotten.And yet, I have not always been kind to you.
I have wrung you in worry, bitten you down to the bone,
clenched you into fists when all you wanted was to open.
I have blamed you for trembling,
when all you were trying to do was hold on.But you—oh, you.
You never left me.
Even when I abandoned myself,
you turned doorknobs, signed my name, reached for the light.
Even in stillness, you moved. Even in silence, you spoke.And here you are still,
writing these words,
building, reaching, proof that I have not stopped—
not really, not ever.So I promise:
I will be gentler with you.
I will unclench, I will open, I will trust.
I will let you rest when you need to and create when you are ready.You are not just my hands.
You are my history, my resilience,
the proof that I am still here.And that is enough. That has always been enough.
Voting is closed
-
Khush, this is a beautiful letter about a part of our bodies that are integral to our being but, like you said, often go unnoticed. Our hands hold lovers, protect children, craft masterpieces, and so much more. Even when our minds won’t allow us to be present, our hands are there working through the motions. Thank you for sharing this piece and…read more
-
-
willj submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoA Love Letter To Communication
William JosephMy Dearest Communication,
From the moment I entered the world, before I could even form a word, you were there. The cries of a newborn, in the touch of a mother’s hand, in the unspoken language of your eyes, you made your presence known. you are not just a tool, not just a method, we are nothing without you. You are the silent force that moves the world, the unseen thread that weaves humanity together.
I have loved you in ways, I cannot describe, yet everytime I try, I realize that even the attempt itself is an act of loving you. You are the reason I exist with purpose, the force that allowsme to takethoughts from the depths of my mind and place them into the hearts of others. You are not just a speech, not just words on a page, you are an action, emotion, existence itself.
Everything I do, everything anyone does, begins and ends with you. A handshake, a glance, a carefully crafted letter, all of it is your expression. Without you, silence is not peace; it is a void. Without you, progress is not possible. What is leadership without words? What is love without expression? What is existence if not the constant exchange of signals, gestures, and messages that define our very nature?
You are not bound by sound, nor by sight, nor by language. You live in the subtlety of a raised eyebrow, in the rhythm of music, inthe blinking lights of technology speaking to one another. Every wave to a friend, every story passed down through generations, every revolution that has ever begun with the words, “enough is enough”, all of it is you.
You are the unseen architect of civilization. Without you, there are no laws, no literature, no connection between minds.
Every invention that has ever changes the world, started with you. A scientist speakes to his ideas before he builds. A writer listens to his soul before he creates. A lover whispers before they embrace. Everything begins with you.
And that is why I love you. Not because you merely exist but because you are existence , itself. You are the greatest power we have ever known.
So, I dedicate my life to you. Not just as a speaker, a writer, a thinker, but as someone who understands that without you, I am nothing.
With All My Heart,
William Joseph
Voting is closed
-
William, communication truly is what makes the world go around. I love how you mentioned being a baby and communicating from the time you were born, even though words were unknown to you. So much of our communication comes is nonverbal, and really, I think we learn more from that than from other forms of communication. Thank you for sharing this…read more
-
Emmy, your words truly resonate with me! It’s amazing how much of our communication happens beyond words—through gestures, expressions, and even silence. It’s a universal language that connects us from the moment we take our first breath. I love that my writing gave you something to reflect on, and I appreciate you taking the time to share your…read more
-
-
-
maddiemarquard submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoHome Base
Maddie Marquard“Always be ready!”
My dad would yell from the stands
Crouch
Step, step
Hover
Clap!
The ball hits the leather
“Striiiike” yells the umpire
It’s like I could taste each out
Before the play was madeEvery few pitches I lick my first three fingers on my throwing hand
The dirt grazes my pores as if it was made for me
The perfect solution for a perfect grip, a perfect throw
I wasn’t afraid of germs in the field
It’s like calories around Christmas
They didn’t countThe batter shows bunt
“Up, up, up!” my coaches yell
I creep up
Putting the 14 bones in my face on the line
My mom winces
I run toward it
Slap!
Dead sprint like I’m being chased
I dive and slide head first
Stretched out for the catch
I pop up for the double play
The crowd goes wildI dreamed of days like this
I still do
Lying sick in a hospital bed
It’s all I wanted
Whether it was the season I was knocking on death’s door
Or the one I blew out my knee I couldn’t play all season
Until the last game of the season
The last of my careerShe threw the pitch off the plate
To protect me on that route I had sprinted so many times
“Ball” the umpire calls out
“Time” my coach says as he runs out
Makes a substitution
“Number 17 in for number 11 at third base”
The announcers’ voice booms
I slowly walk off the field
The crowd on their feet
Clapping me in
As if it was God waving me in
Saying, “I’ve got it from here”How can you not be romantic about baseball?
Voting is closed
-
I loved reading this. Thank you for sharing.
-
Maddie, while I have never been a baseball player myself, I have always enjoyed the energy and tense nature of the game. Your letter to baseball is beautiful and you did, in fact, make the sport romantic! I can sense the dust, the heat, and the crack of the bat hitting the ball from your description. Thank you for sharing your experience!
-
There’s just something about being on a baseball field! I loved reading this.
-
-
janellecomstock3 submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoFree Will, Autonomy, & Authenticity
Janelle M. ComstockT’was a crisp and wintry eve, as I sat by the fireplace to craft this divine love letter to thee.
Thou may be INVISIBLE; thy trio be one of a kind.
Free Will; without you in this lifetime, we would never know the SUFFERING and ANGUISH of making a poor decision, nor the JOYOUS BLISS of changing our minds and crossing paths when making BETTER DECISIONS. You are open and welcoming; patient and permissive; universally accepting.
Autonomy; you are fiercely independent and strong in conviction… sometimes flawed and wavering, though confident in depiction of all that you are. What makes you special is your ability to change your state of mind; never feeling stuck, always knowing that change is the only constant, fearlessly transforming at any given moment. You have the gift of shapeshifting into your highest self.
Authenticity; YOU are UNIQUE and GENUINE, there is nothing quite like you. You are the HIGHEST VIBRATION, the secret ingredient to life. I cherish your honesty, integrity, and loving energy. Your beauty is blinding; a translucent, vibrant, colorful soul. You raise me up and connect me to the tree of life.
Free Will, Autonomy, & Authenticity; you transform my bleeding heart and create an energy of passion for life. You level me up to share these gifts with other beautiful souls. YOU ARE MIRACULOUSLY SELFLESS.
With Tender Love,
Janelle M. ComstockVoting is closed
-
Janelle, I love the way you write to your free will, autonomy, and authenticity. Though these are, like you said, invisible, they give us the opportunity to live life in the way that we choose. We only have to be true to ourselves. You are right—it is the secret ingredient to life. Thank you for sharing this piece!
-
Thank you! This comment makes my day!
-
-
-
ttsemaj submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoGreatest love affair
Christina JamesMy dearest Music,
Your passion is so evident in your tone and beat. That swagger that brings me the heat. The confidence indicating that you run the show, and the way you encourage me to let go. The freedom and ease when I hear your voice. Your adaptability as you give me the choice. Your raspy slurs as your whisper my name, and your mischievousness as you make your claim. The hold you have when I yearn for more, and the way you caress me when I’m on the floor. You pull my chords and reassure release; You’re patient and fervent and refuse to cease.
See, we have history – you and I. It’s not always been easy, but you always choose me.
Remember I once lost myself in R&B; an important lesson came to be…. My bittersweet destiny. Occasionally, I think of thee.
That time I experienced old-school rap. So street, so hood – I just couldn’t adapt. It was a wrap as unhappiness was all I could see.
I’ve tampered with classical tunes, but the vibes were quickly ruined. Ruined the start before its start, and we quickly grew apart.
Soca had me playing with fire with its familiarity and feelings of home. I couldn’t hold on down to the wire. I was much better off alone.
I really favored smooth jazz. Lights down low, nice and slow. The natural mystic didn’t last. With illusions one never knows.
The thought of country grooves warms my soul. Ballads made from hearts of gold. Slow and methodical, but I needed more so I never quite opened that door.
My fave was when you brought steel pans and that fury I need from the band. Undeniable rhythm when I’m near, that calypso beat is what I crave to hear. It’s in my bones, in my soul, in my blood til I’m old.Your eclecticism is a combination of all that’s good. The drums, bass, violins & tunes. Piano, melodies, steelpan and moves. Complementary contrasts make the best tunes. As you grow and expand and you venture into infinity, I hope that you’ll continue to choose me.
Forever yours,
ChristinaVoting is closed
-
Christina, I agree that music is a powerful love in our lives! No matter how we are feeling or what place we are in life, we can always find a song that speaks to our souls and helps us navigate throughout our journey. It is a truly amazing force! Thank you for sharing your experience!
-
-
livingforever submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoEternal Acceptance
Mercy N.To my journal,
Thank you for taking me as I am. I write to you everyday, and there’s no theatrics with you. I feel guilty when I write “stronger” thoughts I have in my life, but only you know how strongly I felt them in the moment. It’s only through writing it down do those feelings leave my mind. You hold it all, with no complaints. It’s something I never thanked you for.
I got you in a Muji store at Times Square. I’d always been a fan of stationary and writing letters, so purchasing you wasn’t a question. I pondered how I would use your pages. I had a plethora of notebooks I had yet to finish, so I had to think about it for a while. I started therapy earlier in the year. Being the type A person I am, my solution for you was to hold my progress and homework. Past journals held my feelings too, but I strayed away from writing negative thoughts. I even taped together the pages that had unsavory emotions. Therapist lady suggested I lean into this, and give myself the freedom to write anything I wanted. Writing my “bad” feelings would not make them more real, but it would allow me to accept and process the world around me. It’s even better that those feelings aren’t taken out on anyone.
It’s been a while now, and more than half of your pages are filled. From my favorite things in my daily life, to pure spirals of anger. It’s simple to tell the distinction, from my uniform handwriting to the chicken scratch I was too angry to re-write. You’ve seen it all, and you are the only audience that has seen me as such. My goals and deepest fears are on the same page, among things no one else will know about me. But I don’t feel afraid of this vulnerability. You’ve given me a space to be myself, and to slowly let me come to conclusions I was afraid of saying. Like my former philosophy stood, acknowledging something painful would create something I didn’t want to confront. But I’ve learned something through my time with you.
The introspection of my life has always been sincere. The lowest existentialism I’ve felt did exist, and happened often. The joy of feeling seen by my loved ones was real. The pure moments of ecstasy I’ve had partying with friends was real. The bouts of rage and regret were extremely real. But acknowledging all of them didn’t cause them to exist. They were already there, I just didn’t allow myself to accept who I was as a whole. You allowed me to accept who I am, choosing which parts I wanted to grow. And appreciating the parts that always remained. I just didn’t know how to fully appreciate them. Thank you for guiding me through that lesson, I wouldn’t be the person I am now without having you by my side.
All my love,
MercyProWriting Aid Style Score: 86%
Voting is closed
-
Mercy, I have been wanting to get into journaling lately and your words here are motivating me to take the next step and get started. The thought of being able to get all my thoughts out without having to worry about judgement seems like it would be so freeing. You are right that our negative thoughts still exist even if we bottle them up, so I’m…read more
-
Emmy, you’re beyond sweet for telling me this. We feel everything, so mind as well channel it into something you’re happy with. Have a good night/day where-ever you are 🙂
-
-
-
gabbycenteno submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoDear Music
Gabriela CentenoI don’t think any thank you is enough for me to tell you how grateful I am that you exist. You’ve cradled me on the nights when I cried over a long-gone ex-boyfriend, fueled my anger and hatred when I went through a friend breakup, and made me feel as light as a feather on the days when I began to fall in love all over again, and never once have you left my side.
And every song I have in my library has its own special story.
I remember the day I really fell in love with you. It was summer 2007 and my family was blasting the radio. Z100, KTU, or something of the sort. What I do remember is Big Girls Don’t Cry by Fergie was at the top of the charts, and my little ears perked up in a way I never experienced before. I waited for that specific song over and over felt such a thrill whenever I heard it on the radio again, as if I struck gold. That was MY song. At least, one of the most important songs that would shape who I am today.
I remember my many phases and changes of life and somehow you always had something to offer me. Whether it was the thrilling smash of an electronic dance music beat in my middle school days, or a sensual bachata beat when I began to love and appreciate my Hispanic heritage a little more, you always had something. There was always something so special about you that I could never pinpoint, but there you were – just waiting to embrace my ears with a myriad of sounds that came together most beautifully.
The truth is, I don’t think I could ever go a day without you. I miss you when you’re gone. I’ve been through many different loves of my life, many different friends, schools, homes, and even feelings that I hate to confront. The one thing that has remained constant is your existence in my life. Even if my feelings and life circumstances are ever changing, you find a way to always be there and for that, I will always love you. No pun intended. I’m so happy there was a musical genius that figured out we could make you after putting a bunch of various sounds together and have it evoke the feelings you do. I don’t know if I could ever thank you enough.
I know one thing remains true, though: you are the one true love of my life. And I hope you know that I will always love you back.All my love,
GabbyVoting is closed
-
Gabby, it is so crazy how a song has the ability to take us back in time. I actually have a memory of “Big Girls Don’t Cry” too! I was on my way to my FIRST day of work at my FIRST job as a teenager and I was petrified. That song came on the radio, and it helped me calm my nerves. Music is a truly amazing thing that we are so lucky to enjoy! Thank…read more
-
- Load More
