http://slow.writerscafe.org/bluegenre The original writings of author Eduardo Bautista en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776095690 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 God.what are you?where are you?everywhere?nowhere?are you my words? my thoughts? my acts?are you there? Listening? Watching? God.are you born out of our fear? suffering? longing?are you born out of our love? gratitude? naivety?a contruct of the mind? a biological imperative? G.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bluegenre/1243876/ Everyone had the opportunity to make a choice Inspired by what have been learned from mistakes experienced and regrets that could have been avoided. Choose what is right? and be law abiding, taking heed as order dictates, Or give in to what is wrong? pleasing oneself, heading to who you are, or to.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bluegenre/1158650/ The violent and twisted movements The chaos and pools of immaterial blood Serve home for these seeds that grew from the pit of the worlds, Feeding from the flesh of its womb, nourished incompletely. Driven to grow, seeking the light. Defying the conscience that grew within Seeking perfection as.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bluegenre/1158450/ Slowly, I woke up. Betrayed by my own senses. Giddy with the consciousness dawningLike sunrise, warming my bed with divine warmth and it's liquid fire. There was a gaping hole in the sky. The trees never dared danced.One stood at the top of the hill. Twilight ebbed and faded at the e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bluegenre/1154667/ I am 300 feet above the ground. The exhilarating and yet familiar feeling that you are above everything else that man created. The clouds chug slowly, dragged by the wind that is working its way to that beautiful place where no clouds have to move anymore.  A step closer to the e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bluegenre/1135296/ My eyes started bleeding when I saw how bright the sun can burnI lay back over the hill, stretched until I hurt.I arched up towards the sky, my chest swollen by unspeakable pain.My heart is tired.Love. It feeds me but it is gone.Oh, god!I can’t see anything. I can’t move.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bluegenre/1135249/ I was looking at him.we were inside his room,he was lying on his bed.over his head, was the windowit was raining outside,the trees rejoicing in the wet afternoon.a tin canister on his table casted a pale shadowover his pens on the deskwith his notes for his mom unfinishedI was just sitting there bes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bluegenre/1072483/ The rays of thesetting sun relievedthe coldness of thecoming night,and the breeze thatpoured right fromthe windows of theroom smelled as thoughit carried the joy ofthe whole world it passed by. “It’s been abeautiful day,” I whispered.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bluegenre/987618/ It is quintessentially passingthroughThe eternal system of the universeA nonchalant string of light thatundulates its wayAround the vastness of alpha and theomega;A glory that isn’t even vital fortheir existenceAnd violent and gentle movement,But somehow nee.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bluegenre/987548/ Do you remember when I told youOf what heaven would be like for me?There'll be a storm, it would rain heavy and hardI'll be walking, forcing my way to Manila bay.Do you remember?The water will be calling meLike a mother calling her childAnd I'll respond.I'll be needy of her embrace.I'll be walking, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bluegenre/979818/ Those lines that converge and make the borders of the window framed the view of the city: a patch of happiness overlaid by the landscape of men’s trivial achievements. Reaching for the sky and cutting though the horizon, it stretched across indefinitely, like a separate universe, embraced by t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/bluegenre/979749/