Panda

Serendipity

Australia

Well, I guess I like to write stories about things and long story short, this is not a very good biography, don't you agree? :)

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Serendipity (Australia) published:

The Seed

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Dear Youngling,

Years come and go so quickly, don't they? It seems as if the seasons perform an exquisitely alluring dance that bound and leap in tempo throughout the large timeframe of the year, yet when our imperfect senses finally can focus on the true beauty that graced the world, it is all finished. Fin. It feels more like a singular minute rather than a year. But so much can be accomplished in such little time, can't it? 

Let me...

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9 days ago

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Serendipity (Australia) published:

Her Final Goodbye

PROMPT: 25 Words

Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her eyes squinted in agony. She was living, he was not. Finally, she let him go - she had to...

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10 days ago

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Serendipity (Australia) published:

A Child's Imagination

PROMPT: Poetry and Spoken Word Competition

Huge ivory waves come to a gentle descent, 
The plush surface cushioning them as they wisp away
Suddenly, tunnels create convex curves in the large silk ocean
Until they reach the distant edges
A young, smiling face appears from the tunnels' exit
Squeals of joy fill the air as she is scooped up 
Deposited onto the soft bank of the ocean
Where warm hands are waiting for her arrival
Her parents cuddle her as she wakes them up,
the bed sheet...

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10 days ago

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Serendipity (Australia) liked These words will grow by casual.ties (New Zealand)

10 days ago

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Serendipity (Australia) published:

Big Brother Is Watching You

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By the door I wait for a response
In the frigid, bitter Winter air
Growing esurient and cold, I wait and compose myself as the door creaks open
Bitterly, I sink into the adamantine, frozen couch
Raising my firm hand, I demand a drink
Offering the warm porcelain mug, I snatch it out of her frail hands
The bones protrude out of her skin, threatening to break the surface
Her veins are...

16 days ago

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Serendipity (Australia) published:

A monostitch, or two

PROMPT: Monostitch

Peace - 
Harmony fills the heart, banishing all other notions of hate and sinful deeds. 

War - 
The minds of a select few become engulfed with madness, causing the death of the stability that once thrived everywhere. 

 

16 days ago

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Serendipity (Australia) published:

One Final Chance

PROMPT: On the Last Day of the World

If I were to encounter a foe such as the last day of the world, 
I would do nothing fancy. All I would yearn for is the one final chance to fix our mistakes. 
Change our decisions, clean up the turmoil that was left behind with arrogance,
Speak only veracity and come clean - release the cap on the bottle of our emotions
To let it drench the world which was once ours.
Before it is taken away, along with our...

6 months ago

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6 months ago

Published Work

The Seed

Dear Youngling,

Years come and go so quickly, don't they? It seems as if the seasons perform an exquisitely alluring dance that bound and leap in tempo throughout the large timeframe of the year, yet when our imperfect senses finally can focus on the true beauty that graced the world, it is all finished. Fin. It feels more like a singular minute rather than a year. But so much can be accomplished in such little time, can't it? 

Let me tell you a tale made of no deception, one in which only truth could handcraft. There once lived a seed, planted firmly in the soil. It knew its purpose, but its early days allowed it to be nurtured by nature itself, being given a warm and comforting home to live in. Anything other than simply remaining stationary in its comfortable abode within the Earth seemed secondary to the seed, which lead it to gain the mindset that this was its permanent...

25 Words

Her Final Goodbye

Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her eyes squinted in agony. She was living, he was not. Finally, she let him go - she had to...

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition

A Child's Imagination

Huge ivory waves come to a gentle descent, 
The plush surface cushioning them as they wisp away
Suddenly, tunnels create convex curves in the large silk ocean
Until they reach the distant edges
A young, smiling face appears from the tunnels' exit
Squeals of joy fill the air as she is scooped up 
Deposited onto the soft bank of the ocean
Where warm hands are waiting for her arrival
Her parents cuddle her as she wakes them up,
the bed sheet ripples come to a stop as her activity diminishes
The waves do not seem so daunting when she is with them


Vines of viridian and emerald obstruct the view
The brush thickens as he enters the epicentre of the jungle
Large wooden structures crafted by an ancient civilisation meet them
They seem almost impenetrable - scaling them seems an arduous task
But the intrepid explorer manages it 
His golden reward awaiting him patiently at the top
The sweet scent of sugary...

Big Brother Is Watching You

By the door I wait for a response
In the frigid, bitter Winter air
Growing esurient and cold, I wait and compose myself as the door creaks open
Bitterly, I sink into the adamantine, frozen couch
Raising my firm hand, I demand a drink
Offering the warm porcelain mug, I snatch it out of her frail hands
The bones protrude out of her skin, threatening to break the surface
Her veins are a perturbing shade of grey, crossing over one another and intertwining like a spider’s web
Even though pity starts to bloom in my mind, I push it away as my pride overpowers
Retiring from the drink, I place it down and the maid, with the cup, rushes away like a petrified child running from their darkest nightmares

I stride past the room - a room with a fraud identity to the rest of the world
Shining on the...

Monostitch

A monostitch, or two

Peace - 
Harmony fills the heart, banishing all other notions of hate and sinful deeds. 

War - 
The minds of a select few become engulfed with madness, causing the death of the stability that once thrived everywhere. 

 

On the Last Day of the World

One Final Chance

If I were to encounter a foe such as the last day of the world, 
I would do nothing fancy. All I would yearn for is the one final chance to fix our mistakes. 
Change our decisions, clean up the turmoil that was left behind with arrogance,
Speak only veracity and come clean - release the cap on the bottle of our emotions
To let it drench the world which was once ours.
Before it is taken away, along with our lives which deep down we known had so much potential. 
Before we hang up our coats that encased our amazing souls for the last time.
Before we say our final goodbyes and hold loved ones close and cry.
All of this on the last day of the world... 

The Art of Specificity

The War

1 : 
She didn't think it was fair - she knew it wasn't fair. 


2 :

She didn't think it was fair - she knew it wasn't fair. She knew it wasn't fair that they sent her father away to risk his life for the cruel country she lived in. She knew it wasn't fair that instead of a bedtime kiss from him, she would be constantly in anguish over when he would come back. If he would come back.

3 : 
She didn't think it was fair - she knew it wasn't fair. She knew it wasn't fair that they sent her father away to risk his life for the cruel country she lived in. She knew it wasn't fair that instead of a bedtime kiss from him, she would be constantly in anguish over when he would come back. If he would come back. Her mother desperately tried to ease her pain, cradling her in her tender, loving...

Flash Autobiography

The Snapshot

As I sat down on the crisp, cool rug of green grass that lay beneath me, all seemed jovial. I was with my baby brother who was a bubbly young soul and much more adventurous than me. He ran everywhere and tried to eat everything that he could shove into his diminutive yet smiling mouth, while I preferred to lay against the old oak tree whose kind was speckled across the rolling fields and hills. As I immersed myself into the wonderful world of literature in the form of a book, I was oblivious to anything else around me but I always kept an eye on the energetic baby who unfortunately had no success in trying to eat his own shoe. I laughed. He smiled. But what I thought was a harmless laugh had serious repercussions to the world around me. 

My brother started to crawl my way so he could snuggle next to me, seeing how happy I was,...

Dialogue Dexterity

Silence

"Oh. It's you again." These are the words that greet me as I enter the aseptic, torpid room. 
"Peri," I said. "How could I leave you in this state after all you've done for me?" 
"Save your sorrow, tenuous messages, and come, sit down". Even after being plastered into a human statue, her wit and speech were as sharp as ever. "I don't know why I deserved this 'gift' from fate, but it sure has put a stop to my life. I mean I can barely  feel my face or arms or legs and not being mobile really adds to the whole 'being hit by a speeding-' She stops mid sentence, unable to choke out the last few words as she rode a wave of remembrance. 
"Peri?" I asked, staring at her watering eyes.
"The lights, the bitumen, the truck, the screams and... And you," she said, her eyes widening with pain. "Now look at me, look at me in this state....

Two Hundred Years Ago

Audeamus

Silence. This impeccable noise is the only thing I hear as my gaze slowly rises to the roof. Nothing quite scenic, as a result of its shoddy assembly. Holes speckle the grey, dusty surface and the paint that once revived the place slowly curls up in anguish, falling to the ground like fresh snowflakes. Everyone expected the owner of this place to dutifully renovate it, as it had been passed down from generation to generation in a nice fettle, from family member to family member and so on. What many don't realise though is that although I could create this home into a beautiful palace with all my grand assets, I must reserve them for more important matters, like an emergency escape from my enemies. Either way, the decrepit state of my house is peculiarly comforting, bringing back moments of my childhood. Never would I have planned to be where I am now.

My family name has quite a profound...

Writing Small

The Matchstick

As I wander, I contemplate the facts that I have compiled to date. The mansion was once a highly cherished possession, yet it is now a derelict predicament. But out of my eye, I see something peculiar. ‘This is it, gentlemen,’ I whisper as I hold up a withered matchstick…

Your World in Three Senses

What We Call Home

1. The sky illuminates at night with nature's league, all acting in strict unison. A dark blanket covers everyone overhead, concealing and preserving the freshness and viridity of the crisp, winter night. Each and every blade of pure emerald grass lays to sleep under a coat of dew, bedaubed with droplets of the finest crystal spheres which sit perfectly, leaving no trace of its existence anywhere else. The plain fields that were once chewed by eager cows now stretch as far as the eye can see, as if it is a sea of organic beauty. The moon sneaks out of a veil of cloud too, and shines like an incandescent halogen lightbulb to show the living world the way of the night. 

As the sun slowly sets over the intimidating, overpowering towers still buzzing with true business of a dominating company ready to seize global power, it is barely given a goodbye to see its way off to the other hemisphere. Here, no...

Paradise

The almighty crash of aggravated waves meeting the crystal-like white sand, the gentle coo of bleached white seagulls with tinges of a shiny grey streaked across their wings, the commotion of the innumerable palms, their fronds rustling together as they sway to and fro in a concise, steady beat. Never had I thought that such a merciless and remorseless job like mine would take me to this isolated paradise. A place where nothing could penetrate its boundaries and disrupt the prepossessing harmony that nature had provided. As I sit on the beach, my thoughts drift away and I find myself envisaging what the future may hold for a petite individual that has caused so much chaos in this already disorderly but anomalously satisfying world such as myself. The thunderous crashing of waves has gradually subsided, allowing me to fully enjoy the serenity of this secluded palace. The sun rays are not harsh, but just a lovely amount which does not force...

Zoom Out

The Seven of Us

As I trudge down the melancholy street, the dwindling sound of a siren screeching with the unstoppable will to capture young, thrilled thieves and the commotion of sundry voices in a somewhat legato harmony fill the stifling night air. I feel like a wounded soldier desperately and scarcely making the trip back to their home. That courageous soldier may have made it back to a medical tent, with tender, caring hands waiting to address their wounds, but I feel a prickle of sadness when I realise that I won't have the same outcome as that soldier. I finally reach the ramshackle elevator, the portal to my despair. The number 27 illuminates as I press it with some force so it operates properly, and the elevator creaks with each diminutive move that is made. Finally, the rusted metal doors open with trouble and I slump into my dilapidated chair to enter my intense relaxation period, which on average lasts for about...

Blank Pages

Here it is. I thought nothing of it at the time, but now it just stares at me blankly with no expression drawn across its wide, grainy face. This piece of paper could become anything I want it to - a memoir of some three-year-old's adventures, a page of nothing but inked letters explaining the effects of anything or a beautiful crane that will be cherished until its untimely demise in the recycle bin. The longer I stare at it, more of its characteristics are shown to make it seem much more daunting than just a piece of dry, mashed up tree pulp. It simply stares at me with a 'make me' menacing type of look, trying to scare off any ideas of creation. 

I shake my head, my imagination is getting the better of me again. It's just some paper. I tell myself to stop procrastinating and pick up a нв pencil. Should simple doodles fill this page or...

Turned to Stone

Closer...

I stood there, in a state of pure shock. How did it find me, I was sure that it would fall for my quite deceptive trap, I ask myself. Nevertheless, it towered in front of me, making me feel as if I was a tiny, pathetic bug. I could hear its mechanical eyes whirring inside its thick, metal skull as it lunged toward me ever so slightly. It brought forward a metal skeletal hand, which looked more like a dull brown in the moonlight, attempting to touch my face in a gesture of longing. As the icy phalanges of his hand skim my face, I smash it back into its chest and try to run away to anywhere. Anywhere but here. As my feet crunch into the fresh snow blanket that lay here beneath me, the whirring of the metal man becomes much more aggressive and I hear his feet bound behind me. The screams that escape my mouth aren't...

Turned to Stone

Closer...

I stood there, in a state of pure shock. How did it find me, I was sure that it would fall for my quite deceptive trap, I ask myself. Nevertheless, it towered in front of me, making me feel as if I was a tiny, pathetic bug. I could hear its mechanical eyes whirring inside its thick, metal skull as it lunged toward me ever so slightly. It brought forward a metal skeletal hand, which looked more like a dull brown in the moonlight, attempting to touch my face in a gesture of longing. As the icy phalanges of his hand skimmed my face, I smash it back into its chest and try to run away. Anywhere but here. As my feet crunch into the fresh snow blanket that lay here beneath me, the whirring of the metal man becomes much more aggressive and I hear his feet bounce behind me. The screams that escape my mouth aren't really screams...

Living Locales

The Darkness of the Concrete Jungle

As I twist my neck around to absorb my surroundings, a sudden wave of reality hits as icy and startling as the concrete floor of which my feet are firmly rooted to. Yet the dismal buildings and roads that everyone in this district sees are not quite what I sense. I can feel the recently cleaned windows stalk my every move as if they are not just inantimate panes - they are really the many immaculate eyes of what may appear to be buildings, but are actually forlorn faces of this concrete jungle. Each eye shows a different expression, like the anxiety of a young business man about to immerse himself into this cruel, harsh yet peculiarly rewarding society, the adrenaline of a young assistant sent out on a mission to get her boss a latte with no sugars, or the arrogant shouts of a manager confronted with quite penitent news.   Next, I hear the raucous melange of taxis...

Serendipity's 1 Like

These words will grow by casual.ties

Published 10 days ago

6 Likes from Others

One Final Chance

Liked by 1 person

The War

Liked by 1 person

Audeamus

Liked by 1 person

The Matchstick

Liked by 5 people

The Seven of Us

Liked by 1 person

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We like your photo and your biography.

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