Wednesday, March 18, 2020

Creative Piece Cheating Death Essays

Creative Piece Cheating Death Essays Creative Piece Cheating Death Essay Creative Piece Cheating Death Essay Essay Topic: Creative Today there was is hope, chance. Beneath the crimsoned, broken pain, insecurities continue to devour the single beating flesh beneath my chest. There it laysthe broken link which withstands the feelings that ache. Withstanding the diminished, breathless air, I fail to understand the absence of being. No longer able to see the hurt in your ardent eyes I feel the want to be with what is lost. Fading into the pasty dark, I have every reason to despise you for letting me go, letting me slip back into unconsciousness.It was thereI remember. I cannot touch it. I used to pass it every day. How could a human forget those sacred words beautifully scrawled across the white paint, in Black-Eternal ink?You are under a curse, for your whole nation has been cheating me. Malachi 3:9Ghosting past this entrance to death, witnessing this beauty asks too many questions. Why does my hand prevent itself from feeling the scratched indents of foretold stories engraved on this Wall?Fear is only in our minds even though it hungers for the naà ¯Ã‚ ¿Ã‚ ½ve and shatters every hopeful thought and empties your heart andHere begins the emptiness. I cannot fear more than death. No thoughts allowed, the nature of the mind is restrained to white space. You cannot hide the pure desire for emptiness as the guilty thoughts explore your mind. Wishing to stay awake, for that second longer, I can never reach the switch to rescue life again. A part of me knows, one day, just maybe, one day, I can return to life. Perceiving the world through faded eyes implants the immoral statuses within.Trying to seek the truth beneath your eyes, the breathing flames numb my heart. To see you infected, by this senseless tumour, persisting never to let go. But one day I will be; I thrive to reach beyond all ideology, to end this idiocy; you will, once again, be able to be with me when I return.I found myself glancing to the other side. I had been there, once. Where the unknown normality grows. Loose ends tied in my w orld; I yearn to touch the golden creatures before the emptiness. My perception deceived, you could not cannot see me anymore. The uncontrollable longing to sprint, spreading the clipped wings of time. Go. Run. To where and how? To the past to retrieve the life lost. There was no way out, I had to go back. As they wired my body below I felt surges that helped return, flashing through streams of consciousness, urging, gasping to see you again.Moments controlled the existence of death, inducing life. But in between us was The Wall. What emerges behind The Wall? Clones. Originality. Unfinished, natural life. Controlled, possessive and twisted views, hidden behind the barrier, preventing my return. I cannot look past the glass.Incessantly transgressing that boundary of otherness, there is no true way I can pause my existence much longer, for there is no other reason to stay; it is healthier to live as two, combined, than stand as one, alone. My identity, stolen. The one feature that I c ould call my own was now lost. The disorientation, heightened by the entirely ambiguous ending of life itself. Until. Until what? Until the angel of death evokes the innocence beneath the heavens? Nountil the destiny of life is fulfilled with the seamless understanding of your individual prophecy and rejects any invidious comment that destroys your inner-voice.I cannot find you. The real you, the Truth. Its hiding who you are, deep down there, in that transgression of hope. Through all the lies I desperately seek for the empty teardrops. Deceiving my invidious mind, youre standing there, in front of me. I cannot reach you. So I walked away leaving no-one to hold the mask that causes my exhilaration. Why can you not bring me back? I Am Watching You, Holding My Hand. But They Are Trying To Leave Me Here, On This Side.Grasping your presence helped the restraint of the essence inside me. Walking away did not help beyond the pain, although I left without understanding the true height of tenderness that still manipulates my dreams; dreams in which the pavement shines like silver until reality streaks that true burning nightmare of this strange existence.Nothing deceives me but the lies that you give, the lies that run through the soul of my mind. You dont understand the feelings that you have captured within my every diminishing thought. I want to run further. To release my mind from the burning passion that writhes my veins but the need to stay within a small perimeter of your shadow conjoins me until it is your turn to go, to join me on this side.Honesty lays a lonely word. Rare to be heard, the honesty released the death of images drenched in hate. I cannot distinguish the power beneath the revulsion. There is every reason to crush the pumping vein that injects my corpse with poison. Silent screams repulse my lips, desiring to gasp, to breathe. But what is there reason to? Our shadows no longer stitched, our rose reducing petals. So why is there a constant though t of forgetting everything you are not? Erasing the things you could have been, erasing the tears, scarring my puppeted face. Stringed from rejection, pain and torment puppeteers my broken limbs, the white coats hold me.We were not liars then. I am not a liar now. We both watched the broken yesterday and I longed for tomorrow, together. Always on display, I close my eyes to see past the pain of dark.Today, unable to wake I lay illusive to the shreds of my heart, wounding my expression. It hurts to witness the human echoes, re-lived through the nightmares of my dreams. Bring me past the hurt, the agony of watching the unreachable. Why can you not cross over too?Startled by the dusted gasps of forced air that respond to the crippling need for suffering I believe the shadows that whisper your life and fade mine. What blinds their bright eyes, unseen to the day, with the unthoughtful death of the truth? What reflects mine the envious shade of green? Temptations to end the sickening thou ghts of preventing my life fulfil the emotions of ghostly hauntsUntrue to the world, there are no essential extensions beyond the blank colour of living. NothingnessEmpty. Thus what fact of life presents the immortal eternity of insipid day? The burning wish for the vile expressions to disappear, tortured my thoughts. The containing of these emotions pains the eyes, watching the memories drift by the expressionless seams that reduce the image to shreds. Why does this reckless behaviour pursue beyond the crazed insanities? Why is this episode taking so long, like a deplorable dawn, continuing the revulsion?I cannot seek through this mindless minefield to find the meaning of how I startled you. I have lost you. Through all the unnecessary disputes of hiding this anguish, came the hopelessness. Lost. Damaged by the insufferable healings, the dawn breaks through. Another day, another time. Now will take my life to hold on to the dead ghost you have become. Without the laughing grimaces, there cannot be a strand of a possibility that this will return to ordinariness, unless there is saviour of this democracy.I have fortunately become comfortably numb. Longing for safety, a content, distinguished life creates disturbance since adopting a treacherous, deceived living. There stood a misunderstood portrait glaring, incessantly, back at the shattered reflection illustrating the possessed front diminished by the aching breaths. What I saw, cannot be taken back. What I heard cannot be forgotten. The nauseating pearled eyes scowl at the forgotten side of me. The crystal visionary protected you from my touch. I can see you but I cannot reach you from this side.Here begins a torn moment when I stare at that beautiful, wondering place and see nothinghere begins the fragile moments that scare me the most. Arms outstretched, desperately seeking past the shallow graves to find Someone, Something, Anything. The flames of hesitation smoulder the earth to the hellish nightmare belo wlying here on the floor helps see beyond reality, patiently drowning in regret and hope. From this perspective the sky can be seen, the smoking flamed sky, ruined from the eternal loss of life. Is eternal accurate, or will this transparent life end?Promises abandoned deep from the shrieking cries, everyone leaning on nothing. Left behind the settling dust, lays the small, tight walls, surrounding the echo of quiet sound, the vividly dull poster, strung from one corner, and the light. Bleak and flickering. What thought required me to enter the tortured bricks of crimson? How did my tortured soul end up wishing to live life, if still life, like this dreary spirit?Last hopes suspended, entering the mirrored reflection paved the road to hell, whilst the images on my side were suffering, but right. Rules and regulations followed forprotection. I think. There is a different atmosphere on this side, stranded, less appealing. I want for nothing than to recede towards what once was.Calm and ready, I progress towards the Wall. Fighting to clamber beyond the glass, the need for water to tremble down my face, to feel again, pushes me towards the boundary. I will step beyond this shield, I will go back. Capturing the moment in the music of mind gives one chance. The soul escaping through the taped up hole, triggers the emotional privation and screams pierce the splintered hearts, wreathed in bandage.Me? Eyeballed by white coats told an odd story. What was happening now? Am I Alive Again? Sightless to the happening, drowsiness mumbled through the watered silence.A familiar hand grasped mine as I felt my eyes flicker back into my body.Dont let go of me. I dont want to go back without you, I was am scared.Within you I lose myself. Without you I find myself wanting to become lost again. I am not leaving now. Im just sleeping.

Monday, March 2, 2020

How To Choose The Right Marketing Tools With Scott Brinker

How To Choose The Right Marketing Tools With Scott Brinker Technology is supposed to help, not frustrate or overwhelm us. Do you struggle with using, choosing, or consolidating marketing technology tools? Marketers tend to love or hate specific tools. Is your favorite on Chiefmartec’s 2019 Marketing Technology Landscape Supergraphic? If not, there are more than 7,000 tools to consider. Which should you use? What to look for? Who should make the decision? Today, my guest is Scott Brinker, vice president of Platform Ecosystem at HubSpot and editor at Chiefmartec.com. He suggests various strategies for selecting tools, so you don’t have to reinvent the wheel. Purpose: Persuade marketing executives to pay attention to the intermingling of personalities and passions between marketers and technologists Categories Covered: Advertising Promotion, Content Experience, Social Relationships, Commerce Sales, Data, and Management Where to begin? Get clear on foundational systems (CRM, email, content management system, etc.) Significant investment in time and learning; identify gaps to intentionally augment foundation with more specialized tools Ecosystems developed around major platforms can help narrow your choices Makeshift Marketing: Is it good enough? Pieces of the Puzzle: Focus on the capabilities you need Marketing department should identify point person/people to be responsible for operational infrastructure and technology of marketing Ecosystem Mission: Evolution of product, partners, and programs Links: Chiefmartecs 2019 Marketing Technology Landscape Supergraphic Scott Brinker on Twitter MarTech – The Marketing Technology Conference HubSpot Salesforce Marketo Creating Predictable Growth Is Not A Hack With Kieran Flanagan From HubSpot [AMP 126] How To Overcome Makeshift Marketing With New Marketing Superpowers If you liked today’s show, please subscribe on iTunes to The Actionable Content Marketing Podcast! The podcast is also available on SoundCloud, Stitcher, and Google Play. Quotes by Scott Brinker: â€Å"You’re becoming more dependent on technology to execute your mission.† â€Å"It’s not designed as a tool to help people hone in on what tools they should use.† â€Å"You could probably count on one hand, these fundamental systems that are the heart of your marketing technology stack.† â€Å"Marketers don’t have the time, or necessarily, even the skillsto be in the integration business.†