The Ragged Journal

Tag: writing

  • Safe Haven

    Safe Haven

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    I close my eyes,
    and look within,
    they cannot breach my safe haven

    I’ve built it up,
    made it strong,
    sealed the cracks that come and gone

    Refrain from closing off it all,
    behind the wall
    there lies the fall

    A prison or a stronghold tall,
    behind the wall
    there lies the fall

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  • Mercury

    Mercury

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    Go on
    Have an affair,
    I really don’t care
    I’ve cried enough for the both of us

    Your wants,
    your lust,
    the broken trust
    I can’t understand why your doing this

    I tell myself,
    you just need some help
    and maybe that’s true, although dangerous

    You pull me down
    We both hit the ground
    Mercury’s wings can’t hold the two of us

    Is it a spell,
    this miserable hell,
    that one might become so insidious

    For I’ve tried my best,
    to outlast your test
    But now, I really don’t give a F__k

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  • A Minimalist, #2

    A Minimalist, #2

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    The following days flash by in a manic frenzy. There’s a pep in my step, and my coworkers notice. At work, I normally keep to myself and have an earbud in—listening to podcasts to pass the time.

    I’m not unique, in this regard. Everyone at the office has their own way of distracting themselves from the day-to-day monotony. Some like to chit-chat by the water cooler. Others, who have been here longer, find creative ways to extend their 30-minute lunch break into several hours. Another guy, slightly below management, takes naps right at his desk; not even trying to hide it, his snores mocking the rest of us.

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  • A Minimalist, #1

    A Minimalist, #1

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    I love a good deal. Sometimes I buy things just because they were on sale. A checkered table cloth… eh, no thanks… but if it’s half-off, now we’re talking!

    I’ve been working on my minimalism. From my podcast, JFM tells me, “Everything is 100% off, if you don’t buy it.” But if only he could see how cute these little figurines on my table are; they came with the table cloth. This purchase satisfies my cravings, until I catch myself doomscrolling on Fartbook or InstaGlam—some peppy, young Spinfluencer telling me I’m just two-clicks away from happiness—and the cycle begins again. Promo code. Add to cart. Checkout. Well that was fun, wasn’t it? Are we happy yet?

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