http://slow.writerscafe.org/seebyrdie The original writings of author Seebyrdie en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776075869 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I never wanted to be someone's everything, rather just what makes their everything so much brighter; but of course, I would never openly admit that to anyone. Oh, I used to be a silly little girl with all those silly fantasies that resemble closely the epitomic romance comedy. My role portrayed by K.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/seebyrdie/224811/ For all of my twenty-three years here on Earth, I have never had a strong extrinsic religious influence; I'm not even really sure how I learned about God, Jesus, or any other sort of theological components or systems. I do remember as a young child, only one experience of church, and that was with m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/seebyrdie/224808/ It was my psychologist's idea to keep a journal. From feeling to print, it's like shining a flashlight in the unknown darkness. You get to see what is, or in some unfortunate cases, what is not there. I hope that is not my story.      It is indeed odd that I am writing in a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/seebyrdie/224803/ The rising sun shining through the red autumn leaves Of the silver maple treeWith the distilled vibrancy of stained glass windowsColor spilling upon the groundHighlighting the fallen timber with a watercolor hue of goldFrom the rays of the wakening star.Branches scattered among the dew.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/seebyrdie/224799/  I watched her for a while,                                           &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/seebyrdie/224485/  my paint of lettersmy brush of tonguesI spread a picture worth no wordsbut all your breath, the canvas now conveys a sceneand to all perceiving, it seems,quite a different thing indeed.Critical Realism.we all understand our ownthat is yours too,still connected by blood,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/seebyrdie/224481/                                                  &nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/seebyrdie/224478/ Inside among the aisles shelvedWith processed fruits and processed meatsWere they just processed kidsScanned by the invisible barcodeBlipping their valued on the screenWith little red computer pixelsSo cold and undiscerning.Now bagged and paid forThis is for the bestIn the back s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/seebyrdie/74684/