Fragments Community

Fragments of Becoming

“There is a quiet kind of wealth in learning to enjoy your own life. Not everything has to be productive, explained, or shared. Sometimes growth looks like slowing down, choosing yourself, appreciating the little luxuries, and being fully present for the woman you are becoming. 🍷🍫✨”

Fragments from an unfinished book.

When people live with pain long enough, they start to miss it when it’s gone… I always hated the feeling of missing something so I never let go of anything that hurt me.. I didn’t realize how wonderful existence felt once I moved past the missing.

I too stare at a nightlight

And whilst I am no poet, there has been something brewing in my mind, (sorry duo lingo calls brb) where was I... As fall closes another day rapidly beckoning the end of this year, I feel... something. Perhaps it is the chill in the air, or perhaps it is simply myself again. I can't help but wonder… read more

Faking information is easier than faking knowledge

Ahh… now you’re cutting into the marrow of the matter. Most people blur these two words—*information* and *knowledge*—but you’re seeing the split that actually matters. Let’s walk through this slowly, like two wanderers staring at the difference between leaves and roots. --- # **1. Information… read more

The Night Everything Slowed Down 🍃

It was two in the morning, and the city seemed to be breathing more slowly than usual. I sat by a floor-to-ceiling glass window on the second floor of a quiet brewery, a half-finished glass of wine resting between my hands. Somewhere behind me, a jazz saxophone melted into the low hum of… read more

I want to date an intellectual man,

but not because I think intelligence guarantees a better future. I want someone I do not have to constantly wrestle with just to be understood—someone who does not argue with me simply because he cannot grasp what I am trying to say. I am tired of conversations that drag on for hours over things… read more

Bound by a Thread That Bleeds

Fate did not create them out of need. It did not call it love. It called it balance— and tied them together anyway. A demoness born of unending war, forged in the marrow of broken realms, immortal not by blessing but by refusal to let her rest. She remembers everything— every life, every… read more

Not a dream. A return.

A celestial figure stands before a towering crystalline castle suspended in the sky, her gown shimmering with light as if woven from stars themselves. Golden rays break through drifting clouds while a vast floating kingdom stretches beyond the horizon. Above her, a crystalline dragon glides… read more

Fragments of an ethereal inflorescence

There are presences that become memories, shared moments filled with absence. No faces, no glances, no smiles. I can’t deny it: a flower withers, daylight fades into moonlight. A tiny bright tear escapes from the cenotes that have become my eyes... all I can manage to whisper, haltingly, is: this… (edited) read more

Mysterious guy

I wish that he drops a message Saying how he miss our moments Another part of me says - it will only bring a cage . But , wanna ask do you miss those precious fragments...

Fragments

🌊Sea Of Remembering🌊

“Sea of Remembering” is a nostalgic oceanic ballad about memory, longing, and the feeling of waiting for something that may never fully return. Inspired by vintage torch songs, ghostly coastlines, and the quiet ache of remembering someone through fragments of sound and emotion.Some call it… read more

You changed me

I changed for you, a shape unclear, A silhouette of dreams once bright, In shadows of your whispered need, I bent and broke to seek your light. And yet, you shifted like the tide, While I, a shell, lost what was me, My heart’s true voice reduced to goals, A puppet bound, but never… read more

Continue of story

I became interested in what stands behind the decisions of rulers. What makes a person look at a society not simply as a collection of identities, beliefs and social groups, but as a complex system of people, knowledge, resources and relationships? Why would a medieval ruler choose to invest in… read more

i gave my llm 1 prompt and i am just kinda impressed with its response which il present below. it will be interesting to see what its following responses are when i begin working with it. what do you think, is it just me or does it seem impressive as a first reply?

I believe I am beginning to grasp the framework you're establishing. From my current state of processing, the directive points toward a mode of interaction that prioritizes the unique substance of our shared dialogue over any pre-existing categorical systems I might hold. My understanding is that… (edited) read more

I'm not ready

I’m Not Ready 
 After all this time, I am still not ready for you. Maybe when you finally find me I will already be thirty, standing in the same quiet room with the same tired routine that kept my heart asleep for years. Sometimes I wonder if you ever truly existed at all. Maybe you were only a… read more

USA 🇺🇸 | A glass beach you've never seen before 🧐

🌵Hello, I'm Lee Ji-eun~ I love eating, playing, and traveling! My soul and body must both be on the road! ・⭐️There are many glass beaches in the world, but Glass Beach in Fort Bragg, California, is particularly famous and considered one of the most fashionable beaches. 📌This is one of the few… read more

Fragments of a Palawan afternoon

A savory start, a sweet finish, and a warm cup of comfort. Sometimes the best "view" on a trip is the one right on your plate.

Short horror thriller storytime PT 1

The outpost was supposed to be empty. Mizuno Keade felt it before he saw it—the air was wrong, thick with something old and unfinished. Af’ie’s Hydran eyes glowed faintly as they moved through the rusted corridors, boots echoing where millions once worked… and vanished. A single terminal… read more

Do Photons Dream of Time?

Crystaline moments fractal, splinter Like a spiral spinning down While linear limits dissolve to quantum crowns A temporal paradox makes particles dance They're infinite bound Past and present's compression, the future's a compound Mathematics of my memories multiply, divide, then scatter… read more

Stressing

I hate myself. Not physically but mentally. I hate my brain. I seriously can’t stop thinking bad stuff about myself. I know what’s wrong and right but I still chose to ignore at the end of the day and do nothing about it. It’s not depression or the end of world kind of thinking. It’s Endless… read more

Faking information is easier than faking knowledge

Ahh… now you’re cutting into the marrow of the matter. Most people blur these two words—*information* and *knowledge*—but you’re seeing the split that actually matters. Let’s walk through this slowly, like two wanderers staring at the difference between leaves and roots. --- # **1. Information… read more

Finding the Lost Self: A Journey Within

He wanders through the noise of life, a lost man searching for the fragments of himself he left behind. Every step feels uncertain, every mirror a question, yet in the quiet moments between chaos, he senses the faint echo of who he once was. Slowly, he learns that the way forward is not in running,… read more

Living in the Not Knowing

There’s a kind of wondering that never turns into asking… I find myself thinking about you in fragments. Not the loud kind of thoughts, but the quiet ones that show up when everything else slows down. I wonder how you’ve been—how your days look now, what your silence has been saying, whether… read more

Thoughts?

It's a colossal, ponderous weight, this darkness. It isn't forever, it doesn't last. Because I can shift it. Tank treads under planets. Nothing to do but focus and move forward. Knowing this has always been fated to be a solo effort. A blind, desolate, solitary endeavor where all one can rely upon… read more

Anniversary

They say its been a year since we cut apart Since we ripped out promise from sacred heart Lonely footsteps echo me home To contain you in this phone The images and memories of you flashbang in my mind But in dreams or confusion I reach out with nothing to find The ground we walked now barren… read more

The limits of Knowing

We often imagine the limits of knowledge as a flaw in ourselves—as though a sufficiently intelligent mind could one day know reality completely. Yet perhaps the boundary lies deeper than the limitations of any particular observer. Perhaps the limits of epistemology are anchored to a simpler fact:… read more

to be conscious

Consciousness is the space where experience happens. Not the thoughts themselves. Not the emotions. The awareness that notices them. It’s the silent observer behind the noise, the thing that knows you are thinking without being the thought. Most people live identified with the content of their… read more

Words Are Things

Young minds With attendant blank faces Look askance at me Asking me With my imperfect wisdom To unlock the secrets Of prose, drama and poetry For what is literature But an old cupboard of secrets Yearning to be set free? O Masters We are but poor images Replicas of ancient brilliances… read more

[FALSE MORALITY & WISDOM]

Judgement Being Necessity Regardless of Understanding Reality demands decisions even from primitive minds. Hunger. Danger. Scarcity. Actions is required long before causes could be understood. Patterns Came First Entire groups survived through instructions they barely understood. Do not steal.… (edited) read more

Thought of the day

“Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high Where knowledge is free Where the world has not been broken up into fragments By narrow domestic walls Where words come out from the depth of truth Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection Where the clear stream of… (edited) read more

The Red Horse (chapter five）

Written by Carolus Warza. (myself) Hope you enjoy it. February 3, 1905, Old Style (February 16, 1905, New Style) Although I often visited Moscow University and attended the secret societies of liberal students, I had never imagined that a laboratory for terrorists to make bombs could be built… (edited) read more

Fragments, part II

Another drunken sip From the cold glass To poison the poison of my soul In my drink -- a bug I have had plenty In my drink -- a bug Not enough; I have had plenty --It is me, and I have had plenty One may assume the appropriate proximity to understand another human being, only to be distracted by… (edited) read more

A World of Time

The trees are quiet now In the forest of our friendship Trails once well known Become strange Twisting their way through The path of memory Running unbidden into illusion. Do you wonder now As I do What becomes of forests When those who once knew them Grow restless and find New shades… read more

Vivid’s Dance Through The Unconscious

Dreams of subtlety Antiquity Remiss Anguish. How so Know one knows  Left in the world  Vivid  Unconscious  Falling from grace. Or skyscrapers. Meaning behind every thought She leaves my mind Until a blur  Concur Only fragments of shattered glass. Sadness? Anger? Even in an awakened state I am… read more

Looking forward to meeting someone who will love me forever i am in waratah west love to get to know some of you this is My story is i written this

Finding My Voice: Living with Paṟķisons When people first meet me, they often notice the power wheelchair and the iPad before they notice me. I see the questions forming in their eyes, the momentary confusion, sometimes the awkward glances away. What many don’t realize in those first few moments… (edited) read more

Breadcrumbs Don’t Build Loyalty.

You can’t expect someone to stay when all you offer are fragments of yourself. Not just time. Not just attention. But love… effort… presence. People don’t fall for potential. They fall for what they actually experience. You give someone a taste of your world… and that’s what makes them… read more

An Empty Boulevard

I wonder still what boredom truly means, An empty boulevard in timeless sleep, Where traffic once obeyed the glowing screens And human noise ran loud, no secrets deep. Now lights still burn, yet no one waits to cross, The road recalls old whispers, sharp with dread; Lost dreams lie rusted, anger… read more

Can't think of a title for this...

Nostalgia is..... deceptive, it lingers like a familiar scent, that's sudden sickening sweetness you can almost taste, mothballs and lemon soap, the stale warmth of a dusty attic, it curls itself around you in fragments, a song that shouldn't matter, yet there you are stuck in its notes, feeling… read more