Meraki: a short story collection
- Reads 144
- Votes 69
- Parts 4
Ongoing50m
Last published Thu, Nov 3, 2022
Meraki is a Greek word that means the soul, work, or love put into something or the essence of yourselves that is put into your work. These stories are written with Meraki and I hope you like them!
Highest rank #19 in misunderstood out of 701 stories 01/11/19
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All of us needed our own saviour. It could have been in any form. A person. A talent. An outburst. A paper. Laughing. Smiling. Walking forward. Breathing. Writing. And some of us needed someone to save us from ourselves. Our minds. Our own demons scattered in the depths of places we don't even want to imagine. Perhaps, it was what she was looking for. The depth within. ---------------------------------------------------- But little did we know, the heart was nothing but a sponge. It absorbed all kinds of feelings--pain, pleasure, depression, joy. Once absorbed, never stained.Complete
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#44 in Poetry [4-5-17] Join me on my journey of self-discovery, my lows & my highs. I hope that I leave you feeling better. I hope that I have made you feel less lonely. This is me. This is 18 years of exploring my creativity, soul, passion, and love. This is Meraki. Thank you for your time. -Courtney Dorland follow my Instagram for excerpts and updates @poetrybycourtneyComplete
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☁️ | wander through my thoughts. all my experiences, realizations, decisions, vibes...attempted to be placed into rhythmic tone as a summary of my life. I hope for this to become a place of comfort for anyone who needs it. Poetry is a beautiful way to put whatever's on one's mind into words, especially for someone like me who's not so great at expressing so upfront. I want this to a place where we can all find instances of clarity knowing we all think, feel, and experience the same, maybe not exactly the same but somewhat. Poetry is an art and I hope you all enjoy my displays. I will try to update daily. Thank you 😊Complete
![𝙈𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙠𝙞 [ғᴜʟʟ]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/399998728-256-k263189.jpg)
All of us needed our own saviour. It could have been in any form. A person. A talent. An outburst. A paper. Laughing. Smiling. Walking forward. Breathing. Writing. And some of us needed someone to save us from ourselves. Our minds. Our own demons scattered in the depths of places we don't even want to imagine. Perhaps, it was what she was looking for. The depth within. ---------------------------------------------------- But little did we know, the heart was nothing but a sponge. It absorbed all kinds of feelings--pain, pleasure, depression, joy. Once absorbed, never stained.
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