City of Shared Stories
Has someone written about the area where you live?
Use our search to find creative writing about places you know.
To share your story follow the link below and type your story or poem about Kuala Lumpur.
Once I thought superior masculinity comes from decent class types mankind, which is why now, I realized the malfunctions in my thoughts are the hypes. Being myself as intellectually persistent over unworthy things have trained my sanity towards insanity, yet I regret to regret it now, its better now than later. For once, the shades of my window has opened and made my rhetoric sense brighter upon exposures, on another ground. Engineered somehow to fit in a world of scam and conspiracies, allowing certain tiny fractures that brought me to the bottom of pure excrement. Not it that perplexed me over time, with unwanted shame and crime, that has deemed to dime.
Feeling dark inside, sensing its thorns and blood in my lungs, tearing its way to my heart, clawing my soul out for an immediate justification. I, therefore, seek the divine . My own brains that had stalked my body controlled the god in me in a negative persuasion. At that moment, it was important to me. It excruciated my veins and cells for rejuvenation, again, I felt controlled. My mortal flesh I felt, didn’t belong to me anymore. Challenging death, was not more than my defeat, I rose, higher and still rising higher, for I could watch others, traumatized in their sorrow, trying hard to delve in serenity. As I stood there, I saw myself, analyzing my heart, my brains, my lungs and my blood, as I stood, I, watching my dead body to die. Corresponding with the universe, while dead. A morbid reality, reluctant of its own fate, tolerated nothing but a dysfunctional state, to the ultimate conclusion of incurable faith.
Feeling dark inside, sensing its thorns and blood in my lungs, tearing its way to my heart, clawing my soul out for an immediate justification. I, therefore, seek the divine . My own brains that had stalked my body controlled the god in me in a negative persuasion. At that moment, it was important to me. It excruciated my veins and cells for rejuvenation, again, I felt controlled. My mortal flesh I felt, didn’t belong to me anymore. Challenging death, was not more than my defeat, I rose, higher and still rising higher, for I could watch others, traumatized in their sorrow, trying hard to delve in serenity. As I stood there, I saw myself, analyzing my heart, my brains, my lungs and my blood, as I stood, I, watching my dead body to die. Corresponding with the universe, while dead. A morbid reality, reluctant of its own fate, tolerated nothing but a dysfunctional state, to the ultimate conclusion of incurable faith.
1 person likes this story.
