Realm of the Goddess

Parfum

2011-11-27T01:39:00.011Z

Indelible sadness

The top notes are fleetingly poignant
fragile as first frost
touching bare skin
whereas

The middle undulates in rhythm
to a weary heartbeat
poised precipitously
above

The base so sonorously marked
by the passage of time
patiently anticipating
change.

My signature scent
of sweet, sordid
sorrow.

Grief

2011-08-14T15:56:00.004Z

Pain is the most individualised thing on earth. It is true that it is the great common bond as well, but that realisation only comes when it is over. To suffer is to be alone. To watch another suffer is to know the barrier that shuts each of us away by himself. Only individuals can suffer. - Edith Hamilton

Grief found me, late last night. Until now, it has only been the odd squall born of a peaceful moment. A sudden tightening of the chest. Sometimes, I dream that I'm thrown against rocks in a tide I can't fight against and so wake up gasping for air. Other times, I wake up and taste the sea I dream of run down my cheeks. Last night, in the dark that was my own, grief found me for a long time.

In that dark, I thought of those I could turn to. The sleeping bodies of my family lay around me, and thoughts of friends filled my head, though none seemed right. This grief is my own, and mine alone to suffer through. Where once a piece of my heart was taken, another piece sat that has now been taken away. I contemplated at length as to what to fill the hole with. Some find solace in god, others in the strength of their family or friends. To fill it with love would only serve to desecrate memories, and to fill it with further pain, unthinkable.

I have spent much time avoiding myself, avoiding silence and avoiding the peace. I surround myself with friends, family and love to forget the pain. In turn, I forgot for a time that a broken heart's balm is acceptance, and this balm seems to be made when grief has run its course.

It is time, and only time will see me through.

Pleasure

2011-01-25T02:10:00.007Z

There is an art to the subtle pleasure of pain. The nuances that dance across your skin, so tangible yet ethereal.

The need stirs deep within your very core and with it, want. Want for fingers trailing over flesh. Want for the sting of a whip so deadly sweet. Want for the marks to remain eternally.

You are pinned down, a thrill running right through your core. You wait in anticipation for the exquisite pain, the exquisite pleasure drawn onto your skin. Your mind hangs, poised over a precipice behind closed eyes as it begins...

You drown. Water rips through your lungs like fire, your breath catching in your throat. Tears mingle with the blood of your lips, guiding you through the murky depths of your mind. You fight to submit and surrender, sinking deeper into yourself.
Your struggle ceases, and suddenly all is clear. The pain ebbs as the pleasure flows over you, breaking on and through your skin. For what seems like eternity, you bask in the pain that is now yours to command, yours to enjoy.

...And just as suddenly, it ends.

Slowly, you are brought back to the surface. Buoyed by the ache of art you caress your marked body, your marked soul. The ink flows with blood and tears as one. For now, you please no one but yourself. You rise from your ashes, never the same, but whole again.

Again

2010-06-21T23:20:00.003Z

When the routine bites hard
and ambitions are low
And the resentment rides high
but emotions won't grow
And we're changing our ways,
taking different roads
Then love, love will tear us apart again

Why is the bedroom so cold
Turned away on your side?
Is my timing that flawed,
our respect run so dry?
Yet there's still this appeal
That we've kept through our lives
Love, love will tear us apart again

Do you cry out in your sleep
All my failings exposed
Get a taste in my mouth
As desperation takes hold
Is it something so good
Just can't function no more?
When love, love will tear us apart again

Freedom

2010-06-09T23:09:00.006Z

I am free.

Today, I ended it...and the first thing I did, when I quit, was breathe out. Long, slow and luxuriously. That was the breath I'd been holding for the last two years. I ended my relationship with CCTV and I can breathe again.

Look out world, because here it begins. I am learning to love myself, and I am going to take you by storm.

Dreams

2010-05-09T20:20:00.008Z

Do you remember them?

I do. The ideals of one still naive to the bigger plans, the bigger picture. Fate, karma, all those mysterious forces acting at once to nudge, to shove your helpless self to a path paved with reality.

Those dreams. The lights, the stage, the drama. Now there are lights...stages and drama of a different kind, where ordinary life plays itself out, in its 550,000 hours.

Thus ends the dream. No longer walking on tiptoe out of sheer habit. A body lithe with raw energy now tired and settled, and a dancer once who dances, now, for herself alone.

And so, with reality's path come reality's laws. Oh how the biological clock ticks... The expectation to settle, to settle down, and to dream settled dreams. And settle we have. Settled to a life where our expectations exceed our realities, with potent words thinly veiled, framed in delicate sentencing. How I miss the honeyed glaze from early days.

She asked herself, once, if she still believed in Prince Charming. Her answer stopped in her throat, as though a hand clasped tight around it. How desperately did she want to say yes...

But alas, the clock ticked its tock, and dreams remained dreams forever more.

Stripped

2010-02-28T01:06:00.004Z

Remember?
stripped bare, peeled back
exposing
my marshmallow middle.

One,
the one in love with
me...
Two,
the one with doights would
wet...
Three,
the one who never did
come...
Four,
the one that was a
chore...
Five,
the one that made us
squirt...
Six,
the one who was so
clean...
Seven,
The one with the tongue
ring...
Eight,
the one who kissed like
magic...
Nine,
the one who broke our
hearts...
Ten,
the one who once stole
mine.

Musique

2010-02-15T22:43:00.031Z

Je veux écrire sur mes chansons françaises. Ce sont mes préférés. Dites-moi si vous voulez une chanson! Vous pouvez trouver les paroles de chaque morceau en utilisant Google, si je ne l'ai pas montré.

Bébé Lilly - Allô Papy les paroles et vidéo! Elle est très mignonne! Les autres chansons sont aussi très agréable!

BB Brunes - Dis Moi les paroles

Celine Dion - Pour que tu m'aimes encore les paroles.

Christophe Mae - Belle Demoiselle les paroles

Christophe Willem - Plus Que Tout pas des paroles mais cette chanson parle à mon coeur.

Discobitch - C'est beau la bourgeoisie pas des paroles mais c'est fantastique!

Fanny - Ancrée À Ton Port video avec les paroles. J'adore cette chanson!

Garou - Belle sans les paroles mais c'est très lente.

Gregoire - Toi Plus Moi les paroles.

Jenifer - Si C'est Une Ile les paroles.

Jenifer - Comme Un Hic vidéo avec les paroles!

Julien Dore - Les Limites pas des paroles mais il chante lentement!

Léa Castel - Pressée De Vivre paroles et vidéo!

Lynnsha - Je Veux Que Tu Me Mentes les paroles.

Louisy Joseph - Assis Par Terre pas des paroles mais c'est bien.

Marc Antoine - Tant Besoin De Toi paroles et vidéo!

Marc Antoine - Comme il se Doit paroles et vidéo!.

Martin Solveig - Rejection pas français...mais le chanteur est français!

Mathieu Edward et Sheryfa Luna - Comme Avant paroles et vidéo!

Mathieu Edward - Entre Toi et Moi sans paroles.

MC Solaar - La Belle et le Bad Boy avec les paroles sur le côté en youtube.

Michel Berger - Le Paradis Blanc paroles et vidéo!

Myléne Farmer - J'aime toutes les chansons! Cherchez Youtube ou Google MAINTENANT!

RoBERT et Majandra Delfino - Le Prince Bleu pas des paroles mais le vidéo c'est étonnant!.

Magic System - Zouglou Dance sans les paroles mais j'adore cette chanson aussi.

Pauline - Allo Le Monde paroles et vidéo.

Quentin Mosimann - Cherchez le Garçon pas des paroles mais il est trés mignon ;)

Renan Luce - Les Voisines paroles et vidéo. Le vidéo est drôle, comme un film!

Superbus - Ca Mousse les paroles mais sans vidéo.

Superbus - Butterfly sans paroles mais le vidéo est remarquable!

Superbus - Apprends Moi sans paroles mais le vidéo est bien aussi.

Superbus - Nelly sans vidéo, mais il y a des paroles!

Stanislas - La Belle de Mai sans paroles.

Victoria - Imparfaits sans paroles.

William Baldé - Rayon de Soleil seulement les paroles

Yelle - Je Veux Te Voir paroles et vidéo! et c'est mon favorite!

Zaho - La Roue Tourne paroles et vidéo!

Zaho - C'est Chelou paroles et vidéo!

Zaho - Je Te Promets paroles et vidéo!

Et voila...ce sont mes préférés. J'espère que vous les aimez!

Snapshot

2010-01-15T21:55:00.005Z

Those moments immortalised in ones mind.

I was sitting in a cafe, nursing that bitter, black blend of beans we so lovingly commit to most mornings. Watched the world go by...expecting nothing. My day would be like all the others, and those who passed by the window would have their days too...some special, most not so special, but a day, nevertheless.

Suddenly, there was a man, on a ladder, reaching up, and up..and that ladder tilted, ever so slowly...slow as the world turned. And then, there was another man. He moved quicker than the slow turn of the world and the steadiness of fate. His hands grasped that ladder and held it still. The man on the ladder looked down, clutching his sharp, sharp implement and smiled..to a man in a suit, who's day would otherwise have not been so special.

That moment was beautiful.

With caffeine in my veins, I made to stand, but then consciously decided to take a few minutes to enjoy the flow of time...

I let time flow. I cared not for deadlines, for rush, for people. I took time to make time, and it was beautiful..for beyond the window, I saw another moment I would otherwise have missed.

A young girl, clutching her bag of chips. No more than fifteen, but a cold, miserable fifteen, with only the warmth of the bag in the grey drizzle that marked this day. At her feet, a one-legged pigeon. This pigeon, resolute...very much another rat of the sky. Black and grey, with no way to tell where the dirt ended and the feathers began.

It sat, at her feet, hunched up against the cold. She'd nudge it, occasionally...for it to fly away, only to come back. She'd scold it, occasionally...only for it to edge closer to her toes.

Finally, she bent down, and held out her chip. The pigeon snapped at it warily...and she smiled. Standing back up, she tipped the bag over the pigeon's head, taking a step back as it fluttered amongst the chips. It ate, and ate, and ate.

All the while, this girl stood, smiling..occasionally breaking chips for this one pigeon with the heel of her boot, and chasing other pigeons away until it had eaten every last piece. She then disappeared...to join the rest of us on this day, like every other day, but not so.

That moment was beautiful.

So now, my day, like every other day, was not so, and I was glad for it...for the world showed me things I wouldn't have seen, had I not made the time to take some time.

Resolute

2010-01-08T00:17:00.004Z

Mesdames et Messieurs. It is now that time of year in which we practice the inane but necessary practice of determining how to better ourselves through resolutions we probably will not keep.

However, I have compiled a list to honour this arcane tradition. Shall we begin?

1. I'll start with losing a few kilos, I think. That honours a world-over tradition, doesn't it? (This is after I finish all the chocolate and snacks in my drawer. A clean start, you understand).

2. Exercise more. But by more, I mean when I can..and by when I can, I mean probably never. But I'll make the effort, and that's all that counts.

3. Do one thing a day that makes me happy, or makes someone else happy. I think I'll share the chocolate in my drawer. It's a win win situation. I lose weight, you get chocolate.

4. Be nicer to my lover. He deserves to be let out of the cage on more than just Sundays. Perhaps I'll feed him food other than Nandos! No, wait...that's being exceedingly generous. I'll feed him. That'll do, pig, that'll do.

5. Stick to the damn resolutions.

Et vous? Have you vowed to be resolute?

Erlend

2009-05-01T23:34:00.003Z

Broken
ended deeds
Wither away
Wither away.

I asked
If shadows
Have names
To silence.

Colder
And older
Inside
And out.

Broken
ended deeds
Wither away
Wither away.

Stream

2008-12-13T22:09:00.005Z

Rideau. It's the music that we choose. Lenny Kravitz says fly away. There she goes again..pulsing through my brain. Blue train. Breathe..want..take..have.

Let it lead you.

Bounce

2008-12-12T23:29:00.005Z

I've learned some things today.

It's nice to know that I'm not the only one who worries about breathing too loudly when I have headphones on.

It's good to know I can be selfish and not feel bad about it.

It's awesome to sleep 'til I'm satisfied as a Cheshire cat.

It's okay to be scared, and It's okay to fail.

It's alright to feel that lump in your throat for more than just sadness.

It's fun to sing into a hairbrush at the top of your lungs.

It's okay to pretend.

It's wonderful to lie still and just listen to yourself breathe.

It's good to be flattered, and better to accept a compliment.

It's alright to miss home.

It's okay to do things for yourself and nobody else.

It's good to remember the good, the bad and the ugly.

It's easy to forgive, but better to ignore.

It's good to be here, and be me.

Necessity

2008-11-11T10:36:00.003Z

There are some who walk with us that will never understand that the world is more than black and white; more than you, or I, and more than what is said and done.

There are some that speak of faith, whilst never understanding faith's meaning, and some that will forever need to shout to be heard by both their gods and their demons.

There are those who will speak out of anger, and never admit to their faults, or see what they have created out of illusion. Those who will point out others missteps before overcoming theirs.

There are others still who will learn to live by the virtues of others, forever shadowed by their own reluctance to forgive, and those who will tear down those of virtue stemming from their own jealousy and shame.

There is fault, and there is speaking of them. There are consequences for more than the ones who choose to speak, thus every action is given a choice in the universal order. I may choose to slander by calling it something else..or I may choose to hold my tongue and see the other side of the same coin.

One need not forget in order to forgive, but those who hold on will never move forward to embrace the new; so hung up by the old they be. We can analyse, interpret and interpret again their actions until we bleed dry..but nothing will ever come of it. It could be based on rage..on pain..on jealousy. There is only so much others can do.

So, we learn to live by forgiving those who speak without thinking, and those who can't see past their own thoughts for the bigger picture; to consider thoughts, opinions and feelings not of their own. We learn to master our moods..the delicate balancing act one performs to be a better person; having a heart free from hatred

And thus, we survive..as a race, as a planet, for all these many reasons. The shades of grey between right and wrong, our opinions and theirs, and most of all, the bonds that we hold dear between ourselves.

The choice of whether to hold ones tongue, or hold ones anger is based on pride..and we all know that pride is every great man's downfall. So we forgive, and we forget..

If only for the bonds we hold dear, and the bonds we choose to break.

Snap.

2008-09-13T16:24:00.001Z

I need a break.
I need to break something.

Mirage

2008-06-20T14:41:00.003Z

There's something about train stations..

It's larger than all of us. Something I can only touch upon, but is open and felt every heart. The combination of sounds..smells..and even sights turn into a beautiful painting, of which we are part of.

Its the smell of engine oil..slick and powerful. There's power behind that smell that makes you heady..makes you breathe harder and deeper.

There's the train itself when it pulls into the station..A mirage appearing in mist..headlights cutting swathes through the darkness of night. A powerful beast straining to slow..

Those sounds of the train itself..groaning to a stop, squealing against the tracks and the doors creaking open to let those who travel within it spill upon the pavements in euphoria.

The passengers bring with them a myriad of emotions, for stations are where lovers meet and lovers part. A place of inspiration poets have long known, and writers cherished.

Finally, we have the station itself. Its heavy dome with heavy beams..light that pools between columns, lending to the intricate mosaics on patterned floor. It is in this light that people emerge..bright, where dust motes dance and travelers seek warmth for stiff legs and stiff bones.

It is this warmth, too, that emanates from those waiting with open arms..and it is this warmth which makes the journey worthwhile.

Inspired

2008-06-19T00:14:00.005Z

She Followed

They spun and hung in the twisted air
She reached to grab and take
They flew away far from her grasp
And fell upon the beating lake

The waves they pulsed up from the deep
Causing such a stir
She put her ear down to the earth
And felt her own heart purr

The music seethed between her legs
Allaying all her fears
She sunk into its deep embrace
And was lost amongst the tears

They speak of her, yet to this day
The girl who walked away
She was but chasing music notes
When dancing with the fey.

Thank you for the inspiration.

Stream

2008-03-09T00:30:00.003Z

Theres smoke rising from the crematorium and I wonder who is being burnt.

I see..smoke..rising..and there is someones soul floating away with it. Up, somewhere.

Take me with you.

I wouldn't mind riding that smoky wave..not being able to feel it, or taste it. The taste of smoke is guttural..like gunpowder on your tongue. Your smell and taste combine to produce chalkiness on your tongue.

Like Mary Poppins' stairway to heaven.

And I see myself in my reflection. There are tears on my reflection. Raindrops on the reflection's face. Where did the tears go, and did they dry up on the solid me? I have to breathe.

Open the window. Must breathe. And I bite my lip so hard I bleed. Gasp. And the reflection is gone. Shattered and warped and gone with its false tears.

Too many pills.. Too much vodka.. Theres no reason to still feel. I'll fail. And the heater flicks on and off. And There are tears on the solid me. And, how odd. My breath is short and gasping. And my eyes..they don't see..and my lips taste blood..

You can taste it. But you cannot feel it. The pills work. The alcohol works.

They were all yellow..

I dreamed about my Volvo. It was a bicycle..I rode in the rain. With my sat nav on the handlebars. I could go underwater. but only in the dark. And it was numb and cold in the water. It flooded at night..and I rode on, on my Volvo. In the dark, wet cold.

I fell off my Volvo and my sat nav broke..I woke up in a pool of sweat and tears.

Poor Volvo.

The colours have gone now. Everything is a shade of grey..my eyes burn from the salt and the pain and I blink, again and again. Still grey. Blink, again and again.

There is more pain. In the heart. It is science. Bits in the mind related to physical pain activate from the heart. The heartbroken. The ache is real.

There's salt on my face. I don't like it. It dries hard. My face cracks. Crunchy skin. Grey, in the dark.

My foot's fallen asleep. My back is shattered. My mind is numb. My hair is wet. My head hurts.

I am unhappy, like you said. I only write when I'm sad. Yes, you said.

Everyone is right except me.

Dream

2008-02-12T01:25:00.000Z

I had a dream in which I died.

I don't know what to make of it. Part of me was in shock when I awoke..the other part of me had already accepted it. So now I know what it feels like to die twice in one lifetime, which is more than most people can claim.

It (the dream) got me thinking. If I did die, nobody would know.. at least, not for a few days.
My house-mates would assume I was out. My family would not know for days. In fact, that is what makes me sad. That they would be the last to know.

It reminds me of my mission in life..I am marked beyond my power and understanding in order to save those who need saving. I do not claim to be a savior, or a martyr, but I have made a difference and will continue to do so.

Loneliness. One can be surrounded by people and yet still be alone. I have felt this many days in a row. I blame myself. So do they..but really, we are not alone when we learn to reach out.

I am guilty. Guilty of pushing away those who get close. I fear, and always will. So do they. But the first steps are always scary, and we ought not to be afraid.

A wise book once told me that there is no place in the world for those who are nice. We are selfish creatures. We do not always need, but will take freely what is given away.

I am nice. I have been nice. I am tired of being nice. So are they. We should learn from this that what we are, we are. It is hard to change a heart, and one goes through pain and suffering to surfeit what is actually a gift.

We are forgiven for being nice..forgiven for being cruel, because we do not know otherwise. We ought to forgive them for not knowing the sadness within, for they do not understand and do not see. Do not forget this.

Do not forget..and when you learn this, teach me how to remember, too.

Missing

2007-11-27T00:52:00.000Z

I know you...I walked with you once upon a dream..
I know you...

I miss home today. I miss familiarity...if not so much the warmth.

Baby mine, don't you cry
Baby mine, dry your eyes
Rest your head close to my heart
Never to part, baby of mine

I'm missing something...but for the life of me, I cannot tell what. Maybe its the simplicity of life as it should be. I feel like life has gotten cluttered.

But writing that did not get the lump out of my throat..so it must be something else. Maybe I'm just alone. Like everyone else in the world...wanting to be heard.

I had a lovely bath tonight. It was ruined by accusation. I suppose I hate being accused of things I didn't do. Pity..I was going to sleep so sweetly...and now I can't/won't. I hate ungratefulness, if it can be said as such.

I need a hug.

Attitude

2007-10-29T14:38:00.000Z

There are many, many things stirring inside me today; namely anger, disappointment and sadness.

My anger stems from lack of understanding. In which righteousness seems to prevail in its most ludicrous ways. Why do we compete to be the one 'in the right'? Why? Is it not a pointless, futile exercise? Would it not be so much easier to back down for once, and just admit being 'in the wrong'. So why do we fight, then? Why do we butt heads for no reasons, and cause immense pain, which leads to more fighting, and more misunderstanding. I do not understand, and I am angry.

My disappointment stems from lack of similarity. Everyone is told to be who they want to be, and they will strive, strive, and strive to be what they want to be..and yet, we are punished for not conforming to norms. We are punished for being different, if punished is the right word.. Similarity is all fair and good, but why are we so accepting of people's individuality only to criticize their shortcomings and differences? You do not understand, and I am disappointed.

My sadness stems from deep inside. From all the little things that hurt my heart, and from the beast that takes them willingly. This beast slumbers, inside me now. Once upon a time it would have roared, demanded, wanted and taken, but after so long a time of being unfulfilled, it sleeps. It tries to sleep, in pain, and worn down with pain, because that is all there is left to feed it. I want to understand, and I am sad.

Maybe the glass is really half full. I admire the fact that some people have the audacity to believe they can make it through life's ups and downs simply by being ignorant..after all, ignorance is bliss, is it not? But is it right, is it right for one to be ignorant, and to have their keeper watch over them when life's lemons are thrown?

Is it wrong to be right...or is it simply not right to be wrong? What do we gain except anger, disappointment and pain. We gain no strength from these mistakes, yet show no weaknesses. Our cracks in deep foundations go unnoticed, like the slumbering beast which, who knows, may never wake.

So pour what you will in that glass, and if it cracks, or we stay to sip, lets hope we don't numb more than we should.

If

2007-10-29T00:50:00.000Z

Fill these spaces up with days
In my room
you can go you can stay
I can't sleep,
I can't speak to you
I can't sleep

Now these years locked in my drawer
I'll open to see just to be sure

I can't sleep,
I can't speak to you
I can't sleep

And So I'm reaching out for the one
And So I've learned the meaning of the sun
And all this like a message comes to shift my point of view
And watching it pull my own light as it tips a shade of you

Hold my wine hold it in
no bodys lost
but no body wins

And I can't sleep
I can't speak to you
I can't sleep

And So I'm reaching out for the one

And So I've learned the meaning of the sun
And All this like a message to shift my point of view
I'm watching through my own light as it turns the shade of you

I can't sleep
I can't speak to you
I can't sleep
I can't speak to you
I can't sleep
I can't speak to you
I can't sleep
I can't speak to you
I can't sleep
I can't speak to you

The more you see, the less you know, the less you find out as you go..Don't look before you laugh, look ugly in a photograph, flash bulbs, purple irises, the camera can't see..

I am recalling the times that used to be. The times where I never said "If Only". The times when I didn't have the time to say so. Having a job and being a working woman again reminds me of those long, long nights. I took days as they came. The days that I simply used to get through by breathing, by doing what I was told. Those were sad, empty days. Long days that never left your heart warm or full. The times where I'd cry myself to sleep, and the times where I'd be too tired to cry myself to sleep. Those were the days.

There are times to this day, when the heart hurts for no reason. These times border on hysteria. Today, my heart swelled with such happiness I burst into tears. Other times it has swelled with such sadness that I laugh..this only serves the purpose of reminding me that my head and heart are connected in the most...perverse ways.

Is this what I want to do? Is there something I could have done, or said, that would have changed my life? Or changed someone else's? Now, of all times, I find myself wondering, 'If Only'..

If only..

If only I thought with my head, and not with my heart.

If only I could cry on my own, but not alone.

If only I could be who I am not.

If only life was a movie with a happy ending.

If only things really are easier than they seem.

If only my hair wouldn't fall like it does.

If only I didn't choose to be a psychologist.

If only I had time.

If only I didn't have to choose.

If only people would understand.

If only I could do things right in one go, and never make mistakes.

If only I wasn't human.

If only I didn't want, need, and ask for.

If only I wasn't selfish.

If only love didn't hurt.

If only I could sleep.

If only.

Sunshine

2007-10-19T10:55:00.000Z

It is sunny today.

It feels wonderful when you feel warmth spread over your face, and a breeze stroke your cheek.

I miss the sunshine. There are a lot of things I miss.

I miss blogging. Revisiting my old realm has stirred something within me, so I woke to answer the call. It comes naturally, to write, as I've said many a time before. I like the soothing effect it has on me, when I spill my thoughts to the world, and when emotion and truth are laid bare.

I miss a lot of things.

And now the mood is gone.

The Long Road

2007-09-21T08:27:00.000Z

This week has been strange, to say the least.
3 days ago, I got my hair done.
2 days ago, it was our 3rd anniversary.
1 day ago, I felt slightly sad to be leaving.
Today, I can't wait. I feel slightly empowered for no discernable reason. Maybe it's because I know I look my best, and feel that way too.

Maybe it's time to start making some changes. Well, they've started already, I suppose. A new look does wonders for a girl's esteem and attitude (not that I was lacking much!

There have been changes happening all around, which makes me feel almost blessed. A couple I've known for a long time have split, for reasons unbeknown to pretty much both parties. It made me realise how much I treasure my relationship. I felt guilty, not being able to enjoy my anniversary because I was sorting that couple out..but I suppose once I'm a psychologist, this'll be part of a daily ritual..regardless of special occasions. It's all in the line of duty.

I did something today that I probably have been meaning to do for a long time. I don't regret it, but I do feel slightly sad, because this person has been in my life for a long time. We've not had a lot to talk about for a long time, and I suppose I'm the one who has to be indifferent, blase, icky and iffy now. Or perhaps this will change. I feel slightly more free. Like a weight's been lifted. Perhaps I've been blaming myself for a long time? Either way, I think I now have the proper chance to start over, and if our paths cross sometime in the future, I hope the meeting will be amicable.

Relationships have changed. All around me. Familial, and not so. My family's slowly falling apart, and there's not a thing I can do about it. Ironically, the family falls apart because of family. I felt an awesome wave of pity today, for my dad. I don't know why, but it brought a lump to my throat. I must say that he's the most tormented person I know. And then I reflect back and see my mother is no better. But... that's another topic.

Friendships come together, too. High school mates have grown closer, regardless of the crap we went through in high school. We were such children. But that is expected. What a difference a year makes!

I'll miss my cat when I leave... no matter how many times he's bit and scratched me. They're love bites. I love him to pieces.

So, maybe, it's time to start over. It seems like it's the beginning of forever.

So...let us walk the long road together.

Believe

2007-08-27T09:30:00.000Z

I used to believe armadillos were indestructible. Much like a heart turned to stone, they curled up so tight that nothing could penetrate their depths.

Now I know this is not so.

I used to wish, when I curled up at night, that I would be indestructible, as long as I curled up tight. That anything around me, be it the world exploding, or the house falling down, would not hurt, and I would not feel.

Now I know this is not so.

So when the world is really falling down around me, I am not immune. I am not invincible. Every thing that hits me will hurt, and thats the way it is meant to be. I am no safer than an armadillo kicked hard, for all we protected were our vulnerable sides, and the shell we built would still sting with every blow.

So now, I succumb to feeling...to emotion...to pain.

Someone once told me that what one feels can never compare to the pain others might feel in the same situation. I held my tongue for fear that the pain would spread to those around me. To those who don't understand no matter how well or how long they've known me.

So I held my tongue, and let the world fall down around me. Because I know the pain I feel cannot compare, for pain cannot be compared, and to each is his/her own. There is no comparison, and there will never be. Pain is pain, pure and simple, and all that compares is how well we deal with it.

To deal with it...take a pinch of salt with every piece of advice, hold one's tongue and keep one's dignity, rage and pain in check. Do not lash out at those who mean no harm, and know that they cannot understand. Do not lash out at those who don't understand. Nobody understands but yourself, and the best one can do is listen.

What makes us think, as humans, that we are wise?

I cannot stop this rage inside me now. It tears my heart to pieces, and yet all I can do is bite my tongue, or scream into my pillow.

Who knows. Maybe one day there will be peace.

Maybe.

Relax

2007-08-23T12:04:00.000Z

MIKA Lyrics

It's as if i'm scared...It's as if I'm terrified...It's as if i'm scared...Are we playing with fire?

I love this track from Mika (Relax [Take it eaaaaaaaaaasy]. Embodies everything I want to do but cannot. Because I spend so much time worrying.

Very hip-pop Beck and Mercury.

Just a post to say I miss the good ol' days.

Feeling

2007-08-05T16:30:00.000Z

The world is no longer a romantic place. Some of its people, however, still are... And therein lies the promise.

I feel like writing today. I'm not exactly sure what to write because my head is filled with all sorts of buzzing ideas. I'm hoping to assemble them into some form of coherence.

My evenings are empty. Its bizarre when one gets used to a lover's presence, day in, day out. Its warm, soothing and gives one a sense of completeness. On the other hand, your head fills with memories of warmth and one prefers nothing but to daydream, with no interruptions.

No interruptions? In this household? I Must be dreaming!

I crave a window ledge. Or a patch of grass or pile of sand and plenty of blue sky to look upon. Just to dream of climbing a mountain and struggling, with a smile, with the wind.

I'm waiting for you.

One

2007-06-06T21:00:00.000Z

One more exam to go. Thank god.

But by now, I have lost interest in all things studious and after three weeks, I just want to sleep.

I think I may be bipolar when it comes to a little thing called love. I bounce between overzealous joy and the doldrums. Bizarre, really. So after my little phonecall to you, that one that I was so excited about..afterwards I just felt empty. Maybe my room is too big now, and my soul feels slightly empty as everything is coming to an end.

Bizarre.

I am..wishing..that I can just curl up and fall asleep. My insomnia is getting worse and I average 3 hours a night, with something like a 5 hour nap in the day time.

It's time to change. It's time to start over. Time to patch myself up before I go back home and face the music.

The Tempest

2007-05-31T01:28:00.000Z

My Jekyll and Hyde.

I have learned something tonight. I have learned that all of us, every single one, have a dark side. This is not new to me, but it has shed light (no pun intended) on my own behaviour that I have long since repressed and denied.

This dark side...it can be indulging in that Ben and Jerry's when you're on a strict diet. It can be the spanking you crave or a fantasy true. From potency, to poison. But we love it. We need it. Our only form of deviance in an otherwise concerned world.

I have learned something tonight. This is not new to me, that I have two sides to myself. I have only just begun to understand.

I have been told often, I am too nice. I do too much for others. I do not disagree. My help is always true and wholehearted. This I do not deny, for there are times when I have sought help and received it with warmth, and other times sunken in dismay. This is the light side of me. This is what lead to people asking me 'why?'. I always answer, 'why not?'.

But the dark side of me. The one that wants to lash out (and does), is a side less seen in its true form. The worst it ever gets is a slap on the wrist, and a gnash of the teeth, for what I do is not nice. Simple as making people believe that is is snowing, or working myself up into a frenzy just so I can let it out. My dark side. It wants more.

It wants to be able to express itself. So that I do not bray for blood. It needs cathartic activity to put it to rest. I cannot find it. I have searched for a long time, and now I am tired, and it has not yet begun, but it will. I refuse to let it out on those I love, though I used to, and do so to this day. The pain, when I do this, is unbearable.

But I will learn.

Sweet, sweet sorrow. To hear you, but not listen. To see you, but not touch. This is my Jekyll and Hyde. My Good and Evil. The two sides of myself that I have yet to understand, and only just acknowledged. Those who care to refute will be against my nonchalance, for this is also as much as I know and care for.

And so be it.

Laughter

2007-05-29T05:38:00.001Z

Rock a bye baby
On the sweetheart
You will get naked
On the sweet pop.

This is why I love you. For making me laugh, and trying to put me to sleep at the same time.

Time

2007-05-20T15:41:00.001Z

It's been a while.
It'll be a while more.

Surrounded

2007-02-20T15:01:00.000Z

I'm surrounded by cynics.

Moment

2007-02-20T13:51:00.000Z

S says:
what don't you know?
She says:
anything.
S says:
that doesn't explain anything
She says:
ive just got a lot to learn.
S says:
learn about what?
She says:
everything.
S says:
ok is something wrong?
She says:
nope
S says:
so you are answering me in a riddly fashion cos?
She says:
im not
She says:
this was a very straightforward conversation.
S says:
yea ok, you are in one of those moods

Valentine

2007-02-15T00:56:00.000Z

Always

Break Free

2007-02-09T00:03:00.000Z

There's been a shift..a change in balance of the natural order of things.
Cos some days, you just don't feel like the Goddess you are, and you lose control.

Breathe, baby, breathe.

Clocks

2007-02-01T19:07:00.000Z

Lights go out and I can't be saved
Tides that I tried to swim against
You've put me down upon my knees
Oh I beg, I beg and plead (singing)
Come out of things unsaid, shoot an apple of my head (and a)
Trouble that can't be named, tigers waiting to be tamed (singing)
You are, you are

Confusion never stops, closing walls and ticking clocks (gonna)
Come back and take you home, I could not stop, that you now know (singing)
Come out upon my seas, curse missed opportunities (am I)
A part of the cure, or am I part of the disease (singing)

You are
And nothing else compares
Oh no nothing else compares
And nothing else compares

You are
Home, home, where I wanted to go

Why

2007-01-29T18:42:00.000Z

"Why are you crying?" he asked his mom.

"Because I'm a mother," she told him.

"I don't understand," he said.

His mom just hugged him and said, "You never will!"

Later the little boy asked his father why Mother seemed to cry for no reason.

"All mothers cry for no reason," was all his dad could say.

The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why mothers cry. So he finally put in a call to God and when God got on the phone the man said, "God, why do mothers cry so easily."

God said, "You see son, when I made mothers they had to be special. I made their shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world, yet gentle enough to give comfort. I gave them an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times comes from their children.

I gave them a hardiness that allows them to keep going when everyone else gives up, and to take care of their families through sickness and fatigue without complaining.

I gave them the sensitivity to love their children under all circumstances, even when their child has hurt them very badly. This same sensitivity helps them to make a child's boo-boo feel better and helps them share a teenager's anxieties and fears.

I gave them a tear to shed. It's theirs exclusively to use whenever it's needed.

It's a tear for mankind."

-- Anonymous

Suga

2007-01-26T13:40:00.000Z

You got me lifted shifted higher than a ceiling
And ooh wee it's the ultimate feeling
You got me lifted feeling so gifted
Sugar how you get so fly?

Don't ask.

Hmm.

2007-01-24T17:40:00.000Z

My lava lamp has gone bubbly inside. It has (partly) destroyed my sense of equilibrium.

Turbulence

2007-01-21T17:19:00.000Z

I used to love this word. It reminded me of storms. Only, I'm terrified of storms. The thunder reminds me of an earthquake I vaguely remember in Taiwan.

I remember all the crashing of things falling down, and us hiding under the bed. But it seems like a bad dream.

I don't remember crying. I was scared but fascinated. And now I'm just scared of thunder.

I remember in Primary school I'd lie down on blue mats for naptime. But I could never sleep. I used to pull my mat up alongside someone else's mat. I don't remember who they were but I remember sandy hair and brown eyes.

Maybe a boy or a girl.

The mats were close to the edge of the table. I'd tuck myself slightly under the table so I could watch the sunlight stream and dust-motes dance in it, without being blinded.

I remember filing to the cafeteria, with its' long tables and benches. I sat a few seats from the end, always. Maybe we lined up in alphabetical order.

I remember making applesauce. We all brought apples from home and tied bit of string around it with our name on the end, on each slice which we lowered into a pot that boiled up front. The teacher added sugar. We got our applebits and sugary watery sauce back in little white plastic cups.

I liked the taste. Maybe its why I'm fond of apple pie now. But only a little bit.

The whole surface of the earth seems changed.

Sea

2007-01-15T22:47:00.000Z

Inside I feel a storm is raging. It's a constant upheaval between heart and mind. My stomach churns, my heart falls and my soul twists itself into knots so unbearable I cannot explain.

When you look at me, you see the sea. Cool, calm, collected.

Look through my eyes.

Much like the sea, underneath its placid surface so much lurks. There are currents; tides that drag you under. I drag you under.

A shaken bottle, longing to explode.

What I miss most is not being able to cry when I want to. Often now, I dream of a box where I can let loose, break things and scream to let all this pressure on my heart out through my lungs. Just like a baby. To throw a tantrum.

I sleep uneasy now; slipping between worlds both real and dreamt. I fly, I fall and then jerk awake with a catch in my throat. I long for the sleep of a baby; wrapped up tight, long and deep.

So, look into these eyes and tell me you see nothing but emotion, and perhaps I'll show you one day what these emotions are without fear.

Un

2007-01-04T14:47:00.000Z

Eres tu es que solo un palabra conquisto mi corazon.

Massacre

2007-01-04T00:30:00.000Z

I had such a gorgeous post planned in my head. Lying awake last night. Such a gorgeous poem and words that leap into my head that now I cannot recover. I shall piece together mere fragments of last night's thoughts and perhaps it will stir my brain to write when prompted rather than putting things off 'til morn'.

Sometimes war can lead to dispassionate arguments that blow out of proportion to the crimes committed. Such crimes can lead to explosions, heated arguments that raise hell and hurt within hearts not meant to feel such pain. Sometimes this pain is necessary, as these crimes are stirred not by words, but in silence.

Simple massacres of trust.

Fragments of what's left of last night's thoughts...that's what I remember. Just that one phrase I've written around. "Simple massacres of trust". I forget what I compared it to, but then, perhaps I am not meant to remember.

The beautiful little poem...let me begin, and end... I don't remember. I sneezed and wept it all away. Something about hearts that hurt because of love. Out of necessity.

I wanted to mention how hearts speak to one another, but those are not my words. My heart agrees, yet is agitated by philosophy. I was reminded that times change, yet people do not. Yet one must persist in change. What is more constant?

Pain is pain. Yet sometimes I must agree that I would like to hurt...Want to hurt, even. Not hurt someone else, but be hurt. My dreams reflected this just many times, and my reality, just once. I want to feel pain bleed out of my body rather than stay trapped in ones heart for eons. I do not know how. My release long ago was to be hurt. To cry it all away. How does one do that when the mind takes over and the heart refuses to change? How does one switch between the two?

I learned how, a long time ago. I used to enter my little space. My trance-like state where the pain would feel...pleasurable. I do not know how, now. For I am not one heart, but two. And to hurt one is to hurt the other.

I want to feel my pain alone, my mind wants to feel my pain alone and drown in it. My heart wants to ache, my eyes want to cry yet I cannot. I am not trapped, yet I am not free. I want not to hold things in, yet having them felt without voicing them...the sensation eludes me. I am told to be One to be strong, but my heart hesitates to show weakness, when for all these years I have tried to build walls of strength on my own.

I must change. Not for one heart, but two, and we will be the better for it, much like the bundle of sticks that cannot be broken, for alone we are easily led to weakness.

Side

2006-12-29T22:36:00.000Z

Young hearts be free tonight.

Cry

2006-12-28T13:04:00.000Z

Serendipity once said

To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore to love is to suffer, not to love is to suffer. To suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy then is to suffer. But suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be unhappy one must love, or love to suffer, or suffer from too much happiness.

Which may be well and true.

I feel light. Like air, almost. A good cry does that to me.

A friend once said that a good cry is like a kick in the balls. Don't hold back what you throw up and you'll be better for it afterwards.

So it was one of those nights. Where words fail me and the heart bleeds with happiness, sadness, melancholy.

A good cry starts in the deepest depth as a hiccup; a wave that then forces itself through your body and escapes in a sob. Should you be too proud of heart like myself, trust me when I say do not hold it in. It will deceive you.

You can let your body be wracked by sobs and have not a sound come out, but sometimes every gasp of air does us good. Let the hiccups turn to sobs, and remember to breathe. They'll subside and you'll be the better for it.

Though you must prepare for puffy eyes, a sore throat and aching muscles which strained to hold your sobs in, thus don't be too proud of heart to cry. It will hurt.

But yes, a good cry makes us warm, when tears fall on the one who holds and won't let go.

Always

Apology

2006-12-26T18:41:00.000Z

The Goddess strolls down the Champs Elysees in her six inch heels and apologises to no one for her lack of posts.

Crack

2006-12-14T20:29:00.000Z

They dance behind my eyes...I stare at the colours, wondering how such gorgeous undulating motion is trapped behind my eyelids, that no one else can see. So beautiful. So soft and so warm.

The one thing they are not, is a distraction.

Crack. I feel the whip draw across my shoulders and cringe. Wait for the next one. Wince for the next one. Suspended.

Crack.

"One". I want to sob. I won't. Breath caught in throat and muscles tightening across my back...taut, hard. Reflecting pain. Absorbing the sting. You sense my tension.

Crack.

"Four". I can feel the pull on my arms, my toes just grazing the floor. The hot white lash across my back which hurts but oh feels so good.

Crack.

Stop. Don't stop. "T-twelve". I whimper. You stop and I cringe in mercy. Please...

Silence.

My eyes open behind the blindfold; eyelashes wet with tears. Escaping down onto my cheeks; my throat. They betray me. I betray me, for all you asked for was silence.

Crack.

"Twenty". Harder now. I wince. Draw my muscles tight together. I can almost feel you smile, you sadist. You love it. You know I do.

Crack.

"Twenty five". Oh, that burns...that burns and I can't keep a sob in. I choke on my own tears and you stop.

Crack.

I can't count...I've lost count. I sob through my Twenties. Crack. Thirties. Crack. Forties. Anticipating, wanting, fearing.

Crack.

"F-fifty". My body hangs marked, like a limp puppet I no longer feel alive. But I do. there's a fire running through my veins, a warmth spreading all over me...marked.

Owned, and I'm let down from my cuffs, my arms aching, my body pressed, tightly held against his and sobbing to my heart's content and calm. Wrapped in the arms that know me best.

Carried to the bed, laid down, with the wicked pulse between my legs far from satiated.

"I love you, master".

Tease

2006-12-11T20:28:00.000Z

Eyes level pushed backwards falling soft wanting hard eyes that don't leave hers rove round don't stop watch dance around the room original bedroom rockers it doesn't get better with a feather boa oh and leather don't forget because your eyes are just for she..

See the hands that rove that tease that touch that smile on that face so naughty she can't resist and sticks her tongue out grins and spins around loving every inch of skin against silk that falls to the floor wrapped in the curtain pulling away out behind her like wings she's laughing smiling at your face tangled mingled glee so what if neighbors see..

Watch it slide soft down her arm all that lace all that skin so soft so hissingly soft it won't stop oh don't stop theres one more strap to go thats it just the other one away don't stop moving I see the heat the windows steam and carry on with one button two buttons three four five..

It's still on why's it still on burning up burning lust burning to stroke every inch and yet struck still by one word one glance one move you can't move mesmerised by every lock of hair strands that fly around her face in heat stuck to skin by sweat and there it slides the last string through the last hole she turns away she pulls away that string flourishing ballerina that she was..

It's off now boned on the floor you see marks on her back laced up so tight and you desire more desire now and watch her turn but no what has she done she's holding whats left those straps that sweetly hold her waist and she pulls one down the other down and it slides rustly to the floor and you can't look anymore..

Visions swimming everything's swimming she turns strikes that pose sticks out that tongue and you know what's coming you think you do and then she's over in one stride leaning down and your lips find hers no she finds yours and you feel the smile on her lips and taste her joy in her dancing tongue

She's gone again fallen again love again on the bed again all against you head against heart and deep breaths that echo the stroke of her hand slow across you around you pulled closer nuzzled lust warmth and they get deeper with every curve and slowly slowly with a smile safe in your arms aching in your arms she drifts off to sleep with those shoes still on..

Tease.

Overwhelmed

2006-12-07T01:41:00.000Z

Sometimes it feels like we have too much to do, in so little time. I would not know how to explain the feeling, except through analogy. It is almost like when you are in primary school, and are at the top of the school in primary 6...but then you get to secondary school and you're back at the bottom again.

Life is strange that way. It's just one climb, then a slide down the other side over and over again.

How many mountains will we have to climb?

Wander

2006-12-05T23:12:00.000Z

Wander though the trees, my love,
Under the weeping willow,
Feel them brush your cheek, my love,
Whilst in the wind they blow.

Whisper in his ear, my love,
Watch him shrink away,
Smile in disbelief, my love,
Maybe another day.

Wipe those pearly tears, my love,
Let silk caress your face,
See them disappear, my love,
From your warm embrace.

Walk beside the river, my love,
Lighten your heart and step,
Forget the memory, my love,
Another life's mishap.

Sleep

2006-12-04T23:46:00.000Z

I can't sleep.
Two days of motion sickness...and the only movement I've done is walking. I don't know why I feel this way but it sucks. I can control my retching now, though. Water stays down...food doesn't.

I'm so hungry. I havn't felt this hungry in years. Not since my haunted battle with anorexia/starvation. I feel weak. The small things exhaust me..walking to the kitchen..bending over to pick things up off the floor.

I hate hunger. I suppose this is why I can't see anyone go hungry...I want to feed the masses, I really do. Sometimes food is the best way to a person's heart. Other times it is simply survival.

I feel so weak..so drained of energy. I don't like blacking out, either. Twice today. But I'm so tired, I'm dreaming of endless sleep..it won't come.

So very hungry..and tired..

Peeve

2006-12-03T00:12:00.000Z

Why do people always confuse spelling between 'lose' and 'loose'? It really does quite worry me. 'My duck is 'loose' makes hardly any sense, unless you're letting it get away from its leash or its just very randy.

Hmm.

Its been a contemplative weekend, but I am happy. There are just some things in life that aren't worth questioning, and others that will drive you mad until you do. I suppose I belong to those addicted to the latter category..born with a fixation on the 'why' and 'what' of things.

I've found a wonderful place to walk instead of around the lake. It's just as peaceful and I'm willing to share it with anyone who's mad enough to walk with me. I spent a good four hours feeding mouldy (read: extra nutrients) bread to ducks and swans and coots. They were happy.

The best thing is that where I go to walk, there is no end...well, there is, but I'd have to walk through several cities and possibly the majority of the country to get to it.

I miss not being able to go to places that are dear to me, but I don't regret the fact that I've learnt that sometimes it is nicer to find places you love on your own. It takes the edge off of things and you know that you never have to share, in the most selfish manner of thought. What's that saying... life is meant to be spent, not saved? Or was it live every moment like it's your last. Aye, one of the two.

I feel like I've grown extra-large metaphysical bollocks AND got my shit together. Bring on the ducks, there's plenty of Poojs to go around. She'll feed every one of you.

Veins

2006-12-01T00:34:00.000Z

I ran back to the circle after switching off the lights, scared of the dark, but excited.

Something was going to happen. I was pleased, I remember. For being asked to turn off the lights. I love that hush, when the lights go out, and the rise in sound and chatter when everyone realises everything will be okay.

Everything was okay. The spotlights came on, and they were harsh as I lowered myself into my little space, my gap in the circle. Watching my shadow lengthen and darken those directly across. I wished I was that tall.

I stretched languorously, letting my toes push down into the squirmy carpet as I flumped down. I love that feeling; wriggling your toes in scratchy carpet. My socks had coe down in the foray of the dark so I pulled them up, one by one. Sat, huddled, with my knees tucked into my chest and staring around the circle.

It was so bright, I thought, as I stared straight up into one of the halogen spotlights. My eyes hurt so I shut them and all I saw was red. I turned my face away and tried to look across the circle. Seeing spots for faces for a long moment. They were all wincing at the light that shone right at them. Their eyes were smaller than usual.

I looked down at the carpet, at my shadow. It had shrunk...slithered halfway across the circle and stopped. I listened to the tinny sound of the voices around me. This room did funny things to your hearing...it was all muffled.

He had been lying on his stomach, beside me. I stared down as his hand moved. It was so white...so white and pale against the deep purple carpet. I saw his wrist...I stared for a very long time, fascinated.

His veins stretched across the back of his hand in large fan shape...I'd never seen that before. So prominent. So starkly beautifully scary. The veins of a boy. The veins of a young boy who knew too much about drugs. The veins of a boy who'd had too much and lost too much weight.

I was fascinated. I wanted to reach out and strum my fingers lightly across them. Like a guitar. They stemmed from his lithe wrist like the roots of a plant and I wanted to grasp his wrist and gently stroke up each vein. Trying to feel where each needle had pricked before.

The lights went down.

Hide and Seek

2006-11-30T18:40:00.000Z

Where are we? What the hell is going on?
The dust has only just begun to form,
Crop circles in the carpet, sinking, feeling.

Spin me round again and rub my eyes.
This can't be happening.
When busy streets a mess with people
would stop to hold their heads heavy.

Hide and seek.
Trains and sewing machines.
All those years they were here first.

Oily marks appear on walls
Where pleasure moments hung before.
The takeover, the sweeping insensitivity of this
still life.

Hide and seek.
Trains and sewing machines. (Oh, you won't catch me around here)
Blood and tears,
They were here first.

Mmm, what you say?
Mm, that you only meant well? Well, of course you did.
Mmm, what you say?
Mm, that it's all for the best? Ah of course it is.
Mmm, what you say?
Mm, that it's just what we need? And you decided this.
Mmm what you say?
What did she say?

Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth.
Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs.
Speak no feeling, no I dont believe you.
You don't care a bit. You don't care a bit.

Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth.
Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs.
Speak no feeling, no I don't believe you.
You don't care a bit. You don't care a bit.

You don't care a bit.

Blend

2006-11-30T17:52:00.000Z

She's very good at blending into the background. She can disappear at will, if she closes her eyes and concentrates hard enough. She's good at that.

So what makes one want to do such a thing? To close their eyes, shut everything out and concentrate on breathing; on ones' beat of the heart? I don't know.

I could try to explain myself, but perhaps I'd lose myself in the process. There are many, many things that can make you feel lost. There are many more that will make you feel much more alone.

Loneliness is like a bitter taste in the mouth. We've all tasted it. We all don't like it, but we know it will linger from whence it came. In the end it blends away with other sights, smells, tastes and sounds. We take in everything else to make it seem like it's gone away. But really, it's only mingled with everything else you see in the day.

In the night, it's a different story. When everything else blends away into the darkness, loneliness returns. Its tangible and it will stay until you close your eyes and curl up in a ball. Then even the darkness chases away your thoughts, and all you can see are the fiery lights that dance on the back of your eyes when they press down on the pillow too hard.

It's hard, to fight loneliness. We've all lost to it sometime or another. One can be lonely in a crowd of people, all because something or someone is missing. So we blend.

Blending does our mind good. We can take in everything, push the horrid feelings to the back of our minds and keep a smile on our face when everyone is looking.

You don't need to smile. It doesn't hide it. It's there, in the eyes of the haunted and the sad.

She's so sad.

Never

2006-11-18T23:02:00.000Z

Never EVER use 'fisting' and 'doorknob' in the same sentence. Just don't.

El Sexo

2006-11-17T18:54:00.000Z

I love visual imagery. I find the Spanish are quite talented when it comes to photographing ones' body artistically. Obviously, I do back my words up with google. Type 'el sexo' into image search and you're going to find many erotic pictures/photos/paintings. Type 'sex' into google and you get links from every porn website known to man (and woman!)

One site devoted to such beautiful imagery (and some downright outrageous) is Sex in Art and if you're ever looking for that one picture to complement your writing, or simply want to peruse through sexual art, you'll enjoy this website immensely. I do believe it's the only one of its kind out in our massive WWW.

Right. Thats it from me*, loving sex and loving art.

*Actually, I'm itching to check the website out, and several others I'll mention in a more substantial post next time. Promise!

Waves

2006-11-17T00:23:00.000Z

One can feel alone anywhere. One could be surrounded by people, and still feel lost, confused and alone. It's funny what can trigger such feeling..a memory..an object..a person you thought looks like someone you once knew.

So when coming back from the laundry, I was caught unawares by the feeling. I had to stop walking and take a deep breath before carrying on back home. It's disastrous...like floating in the sea. You know there are waves...you can feel them. Just like your own emotions.

You just never know when you're going to go under.

Then again, feelings are just like tides. They ebb, they flow..they grow turbulent, troubled and violent. We are all human, after all. We could write forever on which mood symbolises which element, providing we were in our element to begin such a discussion in the first place.

Emotions don't rule our lives. We can choose to let them, like I almost did when I had the door slammed in my face..Or we can pick up our baggage, laugh at the door slammer's ignorance of polite behaviour and turn away. Easier said than done, but we must try.

The same waves that can drag us under, can also buoy us upwards; carry us to shore when we cannot swim to save ourselves, or anyone else, for that matter. Waves are just what we need. Waves of empathy, hope, deliverance. Not sympathy, pity or preachiness.

I'm a swimmer. I've been told that I'd drown with someone I'd try to save, rather than swim away. This is true. I've been told I'm too nice. I told them to fuck off and concern themselves with what's more important; people who aren't.

This is what puzzles me. Why do people question good when they ought to really question bad? Why is a good deed now looked upon as something slightly sinister, rather than something quite good? Has our reality twisted back on itself? Or are we simply cautious because of one too many slammed doors..?

Weary? No. Wary? Much.

Oyster

2006-11-15T21:36:00.000Z

The world is your oyster.

I always interpreted that differently to most people, I suppose. I thought when you say such a thing, the pearl stood for the world, and to explore it, one simply had to roll around the oyster's mouth (so to speak).

As I grew older, this view changed. I thought about how oysters try so hard not to be irritated by that little piece of grit, and that if we don't be irritated by the little things, good things will come as pearls of wisdom.

Again, my view changed. I see that just like an oyster, we try to hide the little bit of grit that irritates us so, by building false layers over it. Really, we're all pearls. Nothing but dirty grit in a falsified shell brought on from those around us.
In no way is this meant to be insulting, no! In fact, its quite the opposite. We build those layers to protect ourselves, as the oyster, from being further irritated by the dirt. The layers are protective, allowing us to roll over and around the world -the oyster's mouth- without harming or disturbing it.

Then again...think again.

Oysters being entire worlds? Perhaps not so. Perhaps the oyster is merely a womb, containing us, sheathing us in layers to protect the fragile entity we begin as. And hence, we grow. We grow, and grow...

Until our worlds are caught, wrenched open, and we're exposed to the light. The harsh reality, which we want to run from. Find something to run to, or indeed, just to run. Run from the simple fact that our lives, so sheltered, were never so. We were cultivated to be exposed.

Just cultivated to be exposed. And now we face that exposure every day of our lives...The constant scrutiny, the knowledge we seek to fit in with the crowd, the waking-up-in-a-cold-sweat world that we live in. We were made to be scrutinised, selected and then separated. Just like what our social rituals do. It doesn't matter if we come from the same oyster...it doesn't matter that our history is the same. What matters is what happens after. What we make of ourselves. Our pearl to be the biggest, the best, the most beautiful...

We're all pearls in this little oyster, we are...

And our imperfections are exactly what make us perfect.

Foreword

2006-11-14T23:50:00.000Z

I'm writing again. I don't know why, but the urge to write is as overwhelming and natural as basic instinct.
Here you will find the wanderings of my mind in their simple, understated glory.
Now I have to ask myself "Why write again?"
'Why' is indeed, the question.
And I, am looking for answers.