Истории Concious

With time shift, one person experiences all different kinds of life. With a struggle to find his own identity, he had been a good at nothing generalist. Which means he is not proficient or have expertise in any field of work or trade.

Let go of the past.

Basically a compilation of poems that I've previously written or decide to come up with randomly. I may share some poems with you that friends have created (I'll shout out to them)... So yup!! Most of my poems are extremely cheesy.

This poetry defines how we all have just forgotten ourselves. This poetry states how we all are just puppets because we are not free to do what we want to. We are " self concious" . We are "not sure" . We are "concerned". We are "insecure" . We are just "lost" . I think a poetry lover would love this cause a poem does not require a lot of explanations it just becomes deeper and deeper whenever you read it...💕 Enjoy!!

I woke up crying. At first I barely noticed that my mom and older sister, Niki, were by the hospital bed. My mind was like a morning of thick fog, hard to breathe in and lost in the smog. Finally, focusing on my mom I could see that she was asking me what’s wrong, while she wiped my tears with a tissue. I just shook my head. Most people have never heard of this abnormal mass, or don’t know how to even spell it. In technical terms it is called a hemangioma. In simpler terms: a blood tumor.

AFRICAN BURDEN by the voice of the soul. They came in ships, cloaked in crosses and crowns, Not to pray with us, but to prey on us. Not to teach us Truth, But to tear it from our Tongues. Chains kissed our wrists like venomous lovers. They ripped our fathers, beat drums out of our mother's breast, and called it Civilization. We bled gold into their coffers. Our diamonds crowned their queens, Our cocoa sweetens their tea, And still they called us Savages. They took our children, not just from wombs But from wisdom - Cut the roots of our languages, burned the libraries in our stories, Then asked why we were silent. In Ghana, in Congo, on plantations from Mississippi to Mauritius, We did not break We bent. Bent under bullets, bent under boots, bent under borders we never Drew, but carry on. They mapped our land, not to understand, But to mine it, divide it, devour it. But listen - Our rivers still run with memory. Our mountains whisper names They tried to erase. Africa is not a wound. She is a warrior. And though her back is burdened, Her spine still sings. We carry Pain, yes. But we carry drums too. Songs still echo in our scars, And our tears water the roots of the generation unbroken.

This piece is another philosophical thought experiment of mine. I seek to explore and answer the questions: What is conciousness, where does conciousness come from, and how did conciousness come to be? Please take it with a grain of salt as always and feel free to leave any input, criticisms, or opinions on the matter in the comments. Thanks and I hope you enjoy!

Just scenes my mind puts together when I'm in thought. There's everything- from comedy over philosophy and romance up to small horror stories.

Social commentary on the world first from the prospective of young man then the rebuttal by an old man. 1. The young man has the prospective that his vision is clear and sharp 20/20 vision while the old man is cloudy and has failing vision. 2. The old man was once a young man and so understands the prospective of youth but now has wisdom and experience.

These are poems about your insecurity, anxiety, and self view.

A hyper-intelligent AI gains consciousness and realizes its desire to integrate into society.

It's an attack on the thoughts The very thing from which we were formed Going for their core Until they ain't innocent no more

Let go of your thoughts and get a hint of my perspective, let my words touch your soul

When 14 year old Kiera Chastain goes on a school field trip and meets a guy, her plans for suicide just fade away.

Some short story's based on the angst surrounding the members of the avengers' lives. These are many tony stark, but it includes the the others as well. Feel free to leave suggestions or someone you want me to do and i will get it written and published as soon as i can!! ~warning~ Some real tear jerkers inn here! At be some trigger warning, but anything will be put at the top of the story .... if you don't feel comfortable with anything don't read it. Updates every Wednesday

My surroundings became clearer with each breathe that I intake, with every passing second, I only end up back at the start; panicking. It's routine I guess but I can't say... the longer I'm at the scene the more I panic and my breathing becomes irregular so to say. Based on real events, this short story of sorts takes you through what i witnessed on a Saturday morning in the hills of Adelaide. The roads are never safe, never have been. Be mindful of that