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Notebook Fragments – Poetry, Short Stories, and Essays

Poetry, Short Stories, and Essays

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Notebook Fragments – Poetry, Short Stories, and Essays | davidjaysonwrites.wordpress.com Reviews
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Notebook Fragments – Poetry, Short Stories, and Essays | davidjaysonwrites.wordpress.com Reviews

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Poetry, Short Stories, and Essays

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1

Bottle Tower – Notebook Fragments

https://davidjaysonwrites.wordpress.com/2016/12/01/bottle-tower

What home was, until. December 1, 2016. The bottles I downed. To form a circle. Careful not to break. Any more of them. As I layer the glass. This way and cement. Them with the images. Of the past I never. Seem to get out of,. Stronger than my grip. I heated the structure, like clay,. With the embers of new sticks. I lit up and I blew it. With the smoke as gray. As the stone walls. Of the bomb shelter. I have built around. My feeble brittle heart. And I do this everyday. Hoping to build a tower.

2

(un)packing – Notebook Fragments

https://davidjaysonwrites.wordpress.com/2016/12/02/unpacking

What home was, until. December 2, 2016. December 3, 2016. I pack my bags solemnly. And prepare to leave home. Not (never) sure what to bring. To leave),I scour for clarity. Rub my glasses briskly with. My cotton shirt and I fog it up. Then wipe it again with fingers. This time. I can see clearly now,. Glasses on, mess over my bed,. Books stacked untidy, corners jut,. As if to say, do not forget me,. Telling me, bring me with you. Folded clothes open themselves up,. Holes inviting me to go inside,.

3

Bulan – Notebook Fragments

https://davidjaysonwrites.wordpress.com/2016/12/26/bulan

What home was, until. December 26, 2016. Why are you so fascinated by the moon? I did not realize I had been looking at the moon, jaw dropped at that. “Was it that obvious? 8221; I asked in reply. She bobbed her head condescendingly. I figured she wouldn’t speak a lot. Not to me, of course. Bored inside? I said, wondering what she was doing outside, especially with a weird person like me. Well, it’s not exactly a party if it’s a funeral for your mom, she said. Lunatics. The word escaped from my mouth...

4

Glass Jar – Notebook Fragments

https://davidjaysonwrites.wordpress.com/2016/11/06/glass-jar

What home was, until. November 6, 2016. There’s a glass jar I keep. At home where I put all. The things I know about myself. To keep things in order,. Not forget who I am, hope. To burn each entry. I do not like and. Keep all I cherish, fold them. Neatly, fold them in sizes. Smaller than I imagined. The pieces of my soul. Are now. But when. I opened one that I kept all. These years to remind me. Tell me who I am. The black ink has turned blue,. Smudged to read something. About myself I know is true.

5

What home was, until – Notebook Fragments

https://davidjaysonwrites.wordpress.com/2016/10/31/what-home-was-until

What home was, until. October 31, 2016. October 31, 2016. What home was, until. Home was the velvet skin of the mabolo that made my skin itch. It was the squishing sound the cacao made when Ate Cecile slammed it. Against the concrete wall. It was the ravines of the balimbing. It was the crackle of sampalok shells. When I entered the house from the backdoor after school. It was the baging that broke from my weight. When I tried to swing from it. Home was the green patch of moss on my shirt I tried. Until ...

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zamdiaries | Page 2

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Newer posts →. Far From the Madding Crowd Very Messy Movie Reaction. July 27, 2015. Yes, this is a reaction about the movie and not a review. Gabriel Oak (sighs). He’s a gentleman all the way, he was friends with the protagonist, Bathsheba Everdene. Then he porposed marriage, and everything went all wrong because Bathsheba is not ready to give up her independence (she’s kind of stubborn and independent). The movie is about Bathsheba (Weird name, don’t you think? Then comes, Srgt. Troy. I liked hi...What ...

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Eighteen | zamdiaries

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The Good Guy: Prologue →. September 17, 2015. 18, she finds herself crying alone in bed. 18, she just misses her mom. 18, she just misses her family. 18, but she doesn’t want her mom to come to her. 18, her mom needs to fix things with her dad. 18, she finds out her dad has another woman. 18, she stays at her house she can’t call home. 18, she’s alone. 18, she’s lost. 18, she’s crying again. 18, nothing is wrong. 18, she’s lost. 18, she’s lost. 18, she’s lost. 18, she wants to stop going to school. 039;t...

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zamraaa | zamdiaries

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Raquo; Articles posted by zamraaa. The Good Guy: Prologue. October 4, 2015. I am an idiot. See that guy leaning on the door frame near the exit? That’s me, the idiot Adam Gordon. I am not usually like this, but I just feel really, really stupid right now for letting go of the person who is probably the most important part of my life (of course, excluding my mother). How did I come to this conclusion? Just an hour ago, I was talking to Daphne (nothing new there). It went something like this:. She winked, ...

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Ask | zamdiaries

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You can ask me stupid questions in the comment box here. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out. Notify me of new comments via email. The Good Guy: Prologue. On Love as Danger.

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The Good Guy | zamdiaries

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Raquo; The Good Guy. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out. Notify me of new comments via email. Three stars with a sun, it's where I am. To bleed blue is why I am.

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Notebook Fragments – Poetry, Short Stories, and Essays

What home was, until. Poetry, Short Stories, and Essays. December 26, 2016. Why are you so fascinated by the moon? Melanie asked me. I did not realize I had been looking at the moon, jaw dropped at that. “Was it that obvious? 8221; I asked in reply. She bobbed her head condescendingly. I figured she wouldn’t speak a lot. Not to me, of course. Bored inside? I said, […]. Posted in Short story. December 2, 2016. December 3, 2016. Posted in Short story. December 1, 2016. November 6, 2016. October 31, 2016.

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