The Cynic Communtity

 I fought from many things in my life. I fought for many things  in my life. And I survived. And I'm still fighting. But the world makes it more difficult. The World is cruel. people are inhuman. I feel like I'm drowning in the ocean & Someone's pulling me from inside. I can feel my body is numb & I can't move. I can't breathe I am terrified I need help. I am alone in the Crowd of billions. & I'm falling apart. I can't bear this anymore. But I think there's a solution Maybe I should stop fighting Maybe I should stop Surviving. I think I'm a mess. - Proudly presenting a shared piece by Wagi 🖤

  Term ~Miss A We are living in 21st century, and this is no ordinary one. Coming across protests, whether a big one, or a silent one under the tags of twitter, we see a lot of stuff happening around us everyday. And this upcoming of new protests come up more frequently, when we "term" a new specification. Like a new term supposedly is "pick-me person" or say I'm an "ambivert". The more we describe emotions or set of emotions together and term it, the more using of the word can be seen to occur in society pointing out a valid reasoning or description of that object, which could be made prior in explaining a persons self.  Going back 20K years, researchers have found no usage of color blue. So did we back then did not see blue? The answer is "No". We did see blue, we just didn't knew how to differentiate it as blue, we knew it as green. 10K years later, we not only knew blue, we made blue. We could understand the differences in textu...

Remedy ~Miss A Poison is eaten in silence, death is achieved in peace They spelled it right when they said “A cursed dictionary is a true art-piece” And they were never wrong I guess, when they said “You’re still a fish” You understand it all when you lay served of rebellious-cuisine yet a dish There’s no harm in it when you look at it, just some simple terms The identity of the cause stays hidden, but they are potent germs And the more the cold-air catches you, the more it hits You can identify now how the scrambled-up puzzle fits Put up your tantrums, put up a show ‘Cause now you’re a victim, before you know Sigh in the shame, when you look up to rules and regulations You’re yet so sincere; you’d keep ‘em away from crime and punishments Brew in the silence, brew in the crème, Design the well ornamented fragments, ‘cause they can’t hear you scream But a new font of art isn’t that easy to create You’d have to die regularly, keep fresh of that meat Unti...

What Really Haunts ~Miss A Here, right here, can you be there? Where you were also supposed to be... Of course, you wouldn’t. Being lost with the essence was always your thing It hasn’t been scary out there without you or anything But this place feels so weird, take turns and gasp, in relief of your absence Yet there fine set of eyes won’t stop trailing every outline of edge of your presence Visualizing the scene that once were existing Pouring heat up inside, knowing my own actions are bit embarrassing And I could embrace all of it without any issues It’s all okay; I’d only be troublesome if the expressions remain, the dues The dues I keep tracing in the expectations of your image is a bit disappointing Trying to be calm and being caught vulnerable, is quite harsh but I’m ravishing That’s how it’s been. Wishing you happiness all the way that ever I could see To see that the right curves are there in the smile, the real one I believe And at the same time...

  HURT ME HURT NOW ~Miss A   This can’t be changed, some tears can’t be held from falling down As you walk through each step, you move forward and move another step An inch more away, there’s no turning back, lights fade out the town Hold no fear; you know you choose this up on yourself, that’s how you step So lost; internally. So lost; eternally. Regain all the strength, erase all the memories you endeavor Which brings coldness out of your seasons, and you’ll see the flowers die in spring Feed upon your pain, the strangest fighter ever. You’ll know when you’ll see that carefree, ending up upon a nerve, on the G-string Hurt it now or never. Silently watch the dream-catcher, steal and fetch the dreams it come across Make no sound, do no whisper, for he hears it all, for he sees across it all He who seems to doze up, is actually drunk of the nectar of the juiciest brain-leaks But why does he has those eyes, closed as if in a sigh, but in awe of th...