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A change in title to walk the same direction.

"An english class I am not taking" has finally passed away. A blog I have had for over 4 years now filled with poetry and a hint of darkness, have now slowly faded away as I brightened my path and changed the title of this blog. The same remains the same as I shall rant away into passionate points in everything in my life, a large sequence of posts are to come too. Let it be known that I started this as one of my friends in highschool started a blog for her English class, and I decided, heck why not, but I was not taking the class, and hence the title. It was a great journey and now I find myself looking for a new fresh title.

And then I thought, I want something that represents life in general, and the ideas behind life, the art of life, and I went hmm, that's good. And then I didn't like art, it was too common of a word, so I went with portrait, the portrait of life. And somehow it didn't work yet, so I changed it once more, and replaced life with your steps, and painted the portrait with a simple brush that had been dipped for the first time in color, to paint a path that you will walk. And this how The brush of your steps was born.

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Learning to float

First my apologies.
Perhaps I gave y'all the idea that
it was all spit without the gears
We aint about that shit

Words can leave you salivating
But sweat builds the fucking mountains
So don't ever forget that in a heartbeat
I could carry your dreams and forget I even did

You're swimming in it, but you can't even float
The irony of words is that they hold the strength of plans
Without the gunshot
You'll never be grand.

We can all aim high but precision does the talking
It's all too simple these days
With the chatter and spread of information
We're suddenly heroes and activists

But we haven't even blinked, the AC,
It's still running. It's near silence
but its not. The inaction,
It's deafening.

Heck I've gone mute,
I can't even rhyme shit
that could emphasize the prolonged
dream of a typeface, the letters were blank.

It was always that way,
It was always silent because at some point
We stop pinching ourselves and assume
that it was deserved…

Click

"Click".

It switched.
Unequivocally different.
Through those hardships
We finally turned around.

Perhaps reflections and glimmers
Gave us sight when we could not claim
But the panoramic put the shimmer
To shame.

Thank you.
In this brilliance we rose
Hoping to understand why the routine
drifts away in prose

For every detail and every insight
The neurons kept firing in question,
Let us speak for it is time
To mark this audacity in rhyme.

Although subtle
The cues went noticed
The portrait tact
And yet somehow,
Obtruded.

But lets digress from these colors
Let the light paint our shadow
For the steps keep calling
with a subtle vibration

We know its time.

On nature's sincerity

I wish I could But I spoke nonsense I wrote it rather To speak it back to you.
The trees spoke quietly I looked from above and smiled The sun tucked away and I hoped It would spill its secrets.
The picture was rightfully painted Had I blinked, I would have missed it. Do not use sincerity It is not becoming of usage.
Learn to become And you will see the world As it was born It will smile once more. x