Forgetting playful Lebanese bike-riders and money sucking warehouses; money stalking warehouses. Forgetting about semi-nude women who plead guilty to nudity proudly on the charges of fashion and vogue with young adults loving the trend of kneevage-showcase which is simply parallel to four-year event that reveals the shocking price we pay to get sold - the common beauty in paradoxes of fishes dying while trying to feed.
Have you danced with the rain With tummy-sick clouds Overfed by the earth's juice Have u danced in petrichor With senses set ablaze In the purest lust of wanting more? Have you Found a place to laugh In a place of pain Have your heaviness Been a scourge of hope And how do you … Continue reading DANCING WITH THE RAIN
Have you not seen those children Who spit at the body Of their mother nude upon the streets Which they built with her blood Decorating the boulevards With her widdering hair and Her lips, soiled with curses Bleeding away. Have you not seen those children Who glory in the under garments Of their mother Whose … Continue reading BLEEDING
Without caution, the play, peeps into the future with a Pre-tribulation Premillennialist belief of rapture. It is not the usual luxury product of a teenage writer from High school (at the time of writing the play). Her bold steps to make symbols of the caption-ascribed-characters further leaves the reader to undergo an internal debate concerned with the near-reality of the fast-moving playbook. Consequentially, she takes turns drastically and to the pitiable awe of the reader who steps into the tension of the plot, a bosom craft of her far out imagination.
Dear Julie, sometimes you remind me of a nostalgia of sleepless nights bound by my desire to do the impossible. When you are filled, I am empty of the strength to fight sleep's slippery hands but when you become a translucent bliss I am filled with the pressure to do more than a mere caffeine … Continue reading Dear Julie