Deceitful looks were flashed onscreen,
Intelligible words masking Their schemes.
A bright light shines, Their faces pristine,
Newsflash: everything you see is not what it seems.
Naive and blinded, the people become mute;
Every lie that They make, people see as the truth.
Fearing oppression, we rally the youth.
Let us learn from history and advocate by foot.
Our future awaits, now gather the crowd; let’s
Raise our fists and make our Motherland proud.
Written on November 26, 2016.
I realized that I haven’t talked about them in here, but I have this great group of friends who I appreciate so deeply that my heart might burst into mini-hearts.
Each of us in the bunch has characteristics that are so distinct from each other that our get-togethers always end up becoming very interesting and memorable. But despite our differences, we still have a lot of common hobbies and likes. One of these is art. 🎨
Continue reading “Selling Art (with Friends!)”
People always tell me that I should take it as a compliment when I, a 21-year-old college student, am mistaken for a 12-year-old (or below). It means you’ll look young when you’re 40, they say. People would envy you, they say.
But other than that, what other good things should I be seeing here? Because from what I have and am experiencing, there are more cons than there are pros.
Continue reading “A Smol Bean’s Dilemma”
i think i drank too much coffee again.
my heart can’t stop pounding, my anxieties won’t end.
the caffeine in my blood is sending chills down my spine,
but i really need this coffee—i hope i’ll be fine.
i tried drinking some water to calm all my thoughts,
yet here i am sitting with my stomach in knots.
but i know that this coffee will save me tonight;
i need to keep studying until i see the daylight.
so i bear with the jitters and the feeling of nausea
(i don’t really care if this leads to insomnia.)
i’m used to the anxiety and there’s no time to whine
i’ll drink one more coffee—i know i’ll be fine.
Hi, I’m Dianne and sometimes I make grade school-level poetry.
If life were a museum,
you’re a piece of art.
If life were a movie,
you’re my favorite part.
If life made you the devil,
I’d gladly go to hell
Because life spent with you
Is life spent well.