http://slow.writerscafe.org/Duarte2586 The original writings of author R. A. Duarte en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775700987 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 What is it that I can’t forget?Why is it that when I feel that I have achieved some degree of sane separation from you, you re-appear in my thoughts?Have you not tormented my soul enough; have you not affected my life in a way that I seem to be unable to repair?Please tell me what it is .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Duarte2586/263318/  Out under a rising sun, I breathe in the sea. Panting and breathing, my feet hit the sand hard and fast. Pebbles are kicked and impurities are felt under my feet. But I can’t stop moving. I can’t stop running. I must continue for my own health and my ow.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Duarte2586/247796/ There is a modern will to survive, however ambiguous or vague it may be deemed by others. But, like all things it remains relative to the individual who experiences it.  It is not something complicated nor is it simple. In fact, one could say it’s complicated in its simplicity. It is only.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Duarte2586/241620/ How much I wanted to speak the world about you. How much I wanted to hold you close. We stood together so many times that I felt as if my desires were true. I was happy with you near; so pleasant and content I feared not the uncertainty of the world for you and your love was the only .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Duarte2586/241618/ My old friend, I write this to you because I am torn by the emotions and logic I feel. I cannot begin to explain, yet I want to. I need that ear. Perhaps, not so much a response, but the gentle understanding that can only be achieved through the knowledge that you read this.&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Duarte2586/241616/ You hardly remember exactly why. The purpose has since been lost, or perhaps, never really there. It was just impulse. It was one day when you contacted him. It was that one day when you felt compelled to find him; a nostalgic pull for old familiarity. You remember that day... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Duarte2586/241613/ The sky turned dark as the fog crept in. Yet behind the chill, the sun still glowed.It was only five in the evening.My eyes grew heavy and my body weak.I knew you had arrived. The evening lingeredAs I fought nostalgic pull.When should I leave? I did not know.A murmur.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Duarte2586/241612/ To each a soul and to each a heart.It cings so delicately like a drop of rain.The multitude means nothing,and the gaze of one means your whole world Whether you walk or runyou must wait for the other to come.You wait for them to catch up. You want so much to tell them the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Duarte2586/210764/