love’s immortal guise is the root of its everlasting appeal – we all need a forever to cling to

Life Suckers (and things that rhyme)

2009-02-19T01:28:00.000-08:00

Life suckers that gain glee from finding a fresh piece of juicy meat to gnaw their mangy blunt teeth on. You know the type, the ones that latch on and suck you dry of all you have replacing your positivity with negativity, inch by inch you become a prune of what you used to be.

Wrinkles covering our faces are nothing like the ones inside, being sucked dry from inside out leaves deeper grooves than could ever be seen upon your external skin and the damage far deeper. Depending on how long the sucker has been leeached onto you, your body will start immitating the state of your soul. Your walk will change and become sluggish, your feet not quite lifting off the street as you walk, your head is heavier and leans more forward than straight upwards, instead of facing the world your eyes fall to the fall.

Life suckers are killers, there is no pretty way of putting it and point blank they don’t deserve the meat they are sucking on, you.

Symptoms of the Life Sucker virus:

_{Guilt trips for simple things, this may include things such as not wanting to do something that the other wants to do in the form of “Fine, sure, I’ll go alone” or “Well I won’t eat alone so I’ll just skip”. The list for this one is long and varied, take your pick and add it to the list.

You discuss something exciting, either an idea or something you want to do, with them and they turn around and give you a negative either about why you can’t do it or point blank why it won’t work without stopping to hear you out.

They criticize you in anything you do, nothing that you do seems to meet the grade even though they miss the boat more often than not

You greet them with happiness and they respond with negatives either about you or themselves

They expect you to fix their lives instantly and when you do something to help them they turn round and spit in your face

You listen to them for hours and they ask your advice only to turn round and do the opposite or better yet ignore everything only to come back to you soon after to talk about it all over again.

They treat you well to your face and then when you turn your back you find that others come to you telling you things about yourself you didn’t even know.}

The list is long, perhaps you recognise a life sucker in your life and can think of more examples. If you’re willing to share lets hear them, the more comprehensive list of symptoms we can get the better equipped we will all be in extracting this killer virus, sometimes hidden by smiles, from our lives once and for all.

The thing is, once you realise you have a life sucker in your life extracting those mangy blunt teeth is not as easy as appearances belie. Sometimes those teeth belong to family members, life long friends or even people we can’t easily remove from our lives such as work colleagues and the likes there of.

The only cure is the realisation of what they are, once you’ve come to this realisation that they are Life Suckers you will start noticing all the things that they do to you, the things that drain you of your spirit, your energy, positivity and happiness. Once you start noticing all the little things they slowly start building up to the point that you have enough resistance to their venom and become strong enough to say “Enough is enough” or better yet “I am worth more than this, I want my energy and life force back, fuck off”

Yeah I swore, no pretty way of saying it like I said. Ok so perhaps not in those exact words but you get the point, perhaps you can soften it up by telling them to go find someone else to suck dry because you’re done or tell them that they need to find happiness within themselves because living and laughing for two doesn’t quite work.

Killers these Life Suckers are, don’t let them suck you dry because one day you’ll wake up and you will be the very thing that sucked you dry.

Scary shit

Swore again but how else do you say it with the same emphasis?

Take back your life, it’s time…

Cheers to 2009

2009-01-01T09:30:00.000-08:00

2008… What a weird, strange, wonderful, horrible, traumatic, incredible, beautiful, loving, heart breaking, joyous, loss filled, soul destroying, knee jerking, soul lightening, friendship filled year of growth and forgiveness!

There is never any bad without good, a lesson I learnt at a young age, and although this year was more eventful than I have shared there were many moments of pure “oh wows”.

This year I lost a mentor, soul mother and friend. She helped me during my homeless years, someone that kept me on the right road and called me the Daughter given by Allah. Nessa was one of the good souls in this world, someone I will hold in my heart always, one whom I shan’t forget, both her memories and lessons. I am who I am today because of this wise woman and I was truly blessed with the chance of having her in my life.

This year I gained another mentor, a soul sister and friend. Her kind and compassionate soul stuck with me through thick and thin, never faltering, she kept me sane through long moments of insanity and loves me no matter what.

This year I dug through all the cupboards within the attic of my past, went through each box one by one and did some dusting, clearing out and accepting. Reliving the past willingly was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Facing the demons that lurked in the darkest corners and staring them in the eye soul destroying at times.

This year I re-learnt some valuable lessons, picked up a few new ones and found acceptance for what was that can never be undone or changed. I forgave the trespasses against me and re-looked at the reasons for their actions, what made these people do the things they did to me. I forgave these people a long time ago but never truly faced the anger that simmered deep within my belly. I gave it up, understood and accepted. Through it all I have grown strong and never again will I allow all that has happened in the past to happen once more.

This year people whom I thought were one thing, true and with backbone broke my heart. Family members and once good friends alike, chance after chance, they proved themselves the fakes that they are. Lies, deceptions, manipulation and selfishness ripped my heart to shreds, over and over again to the point that I started to believe that there were no people in this world with a heart or soul.

This year I was shown over and over again that there are people in this world that have the biggest of hearts, whose souls shine such bright lights that they pierce the darkest of nights. For each person that broke my heart in my life I have found more than a couple of true, brilliant, amazing, warm, giving, kind, compassionate and loving people whom I now call dear friends.

Thank you all.

Fish With Legs

2008-12-29T10:24:00.000-08:00

Some people are runners and others find their feet glued to the ground much like looking down to see that your feet are embedded in a floor of cement with not even the toes showing.

Those who have their feet solid on the floor often frown upon those that have the impulse to run. They do not understand the reasons behind a runner or what sets off a sprint. Often they will frown upon them and castigate them, laugh and pity them. Often they do not take the time to look at their own lives to see their own legs were once free and sprinting.

I am not beating anyone up here just merely explaining the different impulses as I see them, impulses brought about by more things that just fear.

Fear, an interesting creature often put to blame for the impulse to run, but is it just that? Fear? In my books it comes down to our lives, how we grew up, our self confidence, how many times we have had our hearts broken, how many times our soul has been burnt alive…

There are no short answers as to the whys nor are there any short answers to the solutions, rights or wrongs. Each persons reasons are different to the other, we are each unique and hold a different set of circumstances and life experiences.

If someone gets close to us, gets under our skin, a runners first impulse is to split the scene of the crime and not go back while a huge “Danger Danger” sign flashes in the backs of our minds in neon yellow.

“What if the person under our skin hurts us like the last person, I can’t take another heart and soul beating. I can’t risk breaking again because I might not rise again. I am just going to mess this relationship up again like the last time. I am going to fail. They are going to see me for who I am and not like me anymore. I don’t deserve this. I can’t risk experiencing true happiness in case it gets ripped from under my feet again. No ways. Stop it before it has even started, way easier. Run. Get out. Run. Fast get out quick! RUN!”

If someone is kind to us and shows compassion the same sign flashes once more.

“How long will their kindness last, will they turn into another person like the last? What if I fail them? What are the strings attached, there must be a few evil lurking strings just waiting to break me down again. Don’t trust them, they will just hurt you like the others. Don’t believe for one second that their intentions are good, no ones is, you know this, you’ve seen it over and over and over again. Run. Before they break your heart and your faith in humanity forever more. I won’t get up again if I stay around to see it all fall. Get out. Run. Fast, quick get out! RUN!”

… and so it goes, the impulse to run.

Survival of the fittest, I’ll get out before you get the chance to break me to the point I won’t be able to get up again.

Survival of the weak or of the brave?

Fear disables a persons spirit from experiencing true happiness, beauty in the small moments and life.

Fear is a giant jigsaw puzzle with so many pieces that often it can overwhelm us to even contemplate putting it all together. But, once you start finding the pieces, looking at each different colour, shape, contour and patterns, slowly it starts to fall into place. Piece by piece the puzzle grows unveiling a deeply buried truth hidden in a locked tight chest within our soul.

Putting the pieces together takes a lot of hard work, no quick fix lasts forever. Sometimes it can get so hard that we start to think that to even contemplate continuing our last thread will snap, shatter into millions of pieces. All those puzzle pieces stand like a wall before us, overwhelming us and bringing us to our knees.

If you walk into a gallery you always stand back to take in the whole image that lies before you. Looking at the puzzle we are putting together is much like that picture hanging on the wall in the gallery. In order to see how much progress we have made and are making we have to step back and look at the whole. Take in all that we have found out about ourselves, see the true growth and our stumbling blocks, where the other pieces fall and where the gaps lie.

Putting the puzzle of reasons for our fears, our impulses and our lives together is no simple four by four image. It is the most complex puzzle with contours that put a 3D shape to shame but the end result is one of the most rewarding nourishing things that feed our souls.

Without realising it the pieces that you put into the puzzle turn into the walls that once stood in your way preventing you from doing things, the walls that made a maze out of your heart and blocked true joy from filtering through to your spirit.

Its a hard, scary, sometimes floor crashing journey but more worth it than I could ever put into words. Making the choice to build that puzzle is our individual choice. Each and every single one of us has one to build, whether you do it or not is up to you.

Are you a puzzle builder?

In Experience

2008-12-19T10:15:00.000-08:00

There is so much talk about experience these days.

In university I even studied theoretically the factors of an experience. I learnt that an experience is created when it exceeds the expectations. Further, the expectations are built up by all previous knowledge/experience. That means, when you are eating an apple that you expect to taste in a certain way and it does, it does not leave an impression on you. If you have “forgotten” how the apple taste like, you can have a similar experience as you have had before, but never the same.

(Well, maybe if you have Alzheimer’s, you can re-discover the same thing over and over again, like a gold fish swimming around in the bowl “hey, look at the castle!” but that is another discussion)

The factors of an experience are many.

- There is the “room” or the setting in which the experience takes place. This can be a restaurant, a beach, a library, an open field. Any “place” really. But the “experience room” always exists. When you are in love the experience room can be the smallest space between you and your loved ones eyes.

- Then there are the objects of your experience. What you focus on. In a positive experience you see positive things. You see the smiles of the children and your glass is always half full. In a negative experience the negative aspects of things are enhanced. You may experience the children’s play as loud and annoying.

- Your condition coming into the “experience room” is crucial. As time is always on going this means, the conditions of one experience affects the next. There are positive or negative circles of events, in which we sometimes let our selves get pulled into. Which is positive if you are in a positive circle, but quite dangerous if you are heading down a negative twirl. Anyhow, you need to be aware of the condition you are in and never blame circumstances or events, because an event is just that, an event.

- The outcome is your perception of these things. Because we are human our experience will always be subjective. Out of the factors, the condition is what has the greatest effect.

Those who have learnt to control their mind set know that an experience is not about the outer condition. Rain is rain on all people, but we are having millions of different experiences of it.

We can not share an experience.

Never judge a person by their appearance. Your judgment about other people, is the truth about your self. That is, your opinions about other people actually says more about yourself. Your previous experience, your insights, your fears...Never look neither up to nor down on people but meet them as equals. You do not know what they are experiencing, and you do not know how you would act in their shoes.

Do not think so much about what other people are experiencing, but be present in your own.

Then you will know, the experience is not in the greatness of your surroundings, but in the greatness of yourself.

Longing

2008-12-16T14:58:00.000-08:00

beautiful as the sky is
was

maybe I was imagining it all
still

the universe is so hollow
when you let me down

time and time again

Self Awareness Week

2008-12-15T13:00:00.000-08:00

I have had a few occasions recently that I have heard people blame their life’s problems on other people. They can’t do this or that because of another person, what they did, or what they are going to do. They use everything as an excuse.

Many people hold on to bitterness gained in their childhood. They blame their parents for everything that has happened in their lives. But really once you are an adult, you can make your own choices. No one is holding you to the behaviors of your parents anymore. I hate it when people excuse their behavior with comments like “I was raised this way” or “I was abused therefore I’m different and allowed to behave badly”.

I know a now 41 year old man who struggles financially, and personally. He blames the state of his finances on his parents. He is forever whining with “Poor ME”! Why, you might ask? His reply is: “They never taught me how to manage money”. This man didn’t have the best parents in the world, but he had everything given to him. He had nice clothes, a nice home, cars bought for him. Yet he still blames his parents for his failings in life? How could that be I wonder? His sisters who grew up in the same household all manage their money and do well financially.

I know another set of siblings who are given every single opportunity in life and more and they keep failing at everything. One of them uses the excuse that she was sick as a child, and can’t cope with life. The other, I’m not exactly sure what his problem is, but he blames his dad anyway. These people are now in their late 20’s and can’t hold jobs, can’t hold partners, and can’t deal with their own lives. How sad is that?

There is a time to deal with it and grow up. Yes, things might not have gone your way in the past, but are you going to let that affect the now and the future? Are you going to let “them” whoever they may be, put you in a place where it ruins your entire life? Haven’t they taken enough from you?

It’s hard to get rid of the “old tapes” that play in one’s mind. Believe me, I have plenty of them myself.

I had it very hard growing up. My father died early on and there was alot of physical and emotional abuse from my mother. But I have taken that energy into making myself better. Learning from mistakes. Being a solid person. That is my choice. I don’t want to relive it as an adult. Each choice that I have made has ensured that I don’t. I don’t want to marry a carbon copy of my father, or become my mother. That idea just depresses me.

We do get to choose. We can choose to be happy. We can choose to get out of the cycle, rut, stagnation of our lives and do better. Attitude is a big part of it. Making conscious positive choices rather than allowing the wave of life wash over you is another.

In the end, the only person you have to blame or congratulate for your life is you.

Jumping Fences

2008-12-13T13:08:00.000-08:00

Today I had a very good reminder of the old saying “The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence”. The only thing is that it never really is. Despite outward appearances, no one ever has the perfect life.

I was reminded of this today when talking with someone on the phone who doesn’t yet know me well. This person doesn’t know that I am ill, or what my life is really like. To them, I seem like I have it all. Good home, all of the comforts that money buys. I don’t work hard, I don’t have much in the way of responsibility other than to myself. I travel and do alot of exotic things that most people only dream of. At least that is how it looks on the outside.

To her, my life seems so perfect. I have a very green yard looking over the fence at it. Living it however is a whole other challenge. You can’t see from over the fence reality.

I have seen many people envy and be envied for various reasons. Some for their beauty, other for their wealth. But even those things come with a double edged sword. Beauty fades, and one needs to constantly maintain that beauty to hold it for as long as possible. When that is gone, then what? It takes a great deal of discipline, effort and work to maintain beauty. People who have money constantly worry about keeping hold of it. There are always people who want to take it from you, or those who will only like you because of what you have.

I have also see women envy other women for the husbands that they choose. No one ever knows what goes on behind closed doors. He can be the greatest guy in public, but the biggest jerk in private. I know, I was involved with one of those not too long ago. All of the money in the world didn’t make me happy with him. Little did anyone know how verbally abusive he was in private. All the world saw was this successful man with a great fun loving personality.

My friend the Tree looked to be someone to be envied from the outside. Her grass looked oh so green. She and her husband are beautiful physically, wealthy, educated, sophisticated, well travelled, have two absolutely brilliant and beautiful children and a magnificent home. But, it doesn’t show that her husband is a bi-polar, drug abusing, very sick person. You can’t see the hell that he has put her through. So with all of that green grass to look at, her garden is merely spray painted to look that way.

Understand that we all have “crap” to deal with in our lives. No one ever has it perfect. Not that I have seen anyway. There is no such thing as perfection when it comes to life. We all have to take our fair share of drama and unhappiness, and depression. That is simply the way it works. No one ever gets a free ride ticket.

So instead of envying someone else, you might want to put that energy into making your own life as good as you can… right? Wanting what it is you have and being satisfied is a good start….

Perception Of A Childs Eyes

2008-12-12T16:17:00.000-08:00

A confused 12 years old not quite feeling right within the body I found myself looking through old eyes at the passing squatter camps. I looked upon the shanty towns, tin shacks, the smell of the morning fires tickling my nose and the flames going up into the dawn air. As I watched it pass sitting in the car on the hour long journey to school after yet another weekend with mothers boyfriend in a far off town. I found myself enveloped in wealth of sadness as tears ran down my cheeks.

What the hell is going on in the world? Why do so many seem to think only of themselves?

Don’t people realise that there are people, kids, humans starving? Don’t people realise that people are homeless, without shelter or blankets? What the hell is going on in this world?

Disease! Wars! Terror! Death!

Don’t people see how much the world needs help? Love? Hope? Doesn’t anyone else feel saddened by what I've seen? Don’t they suffer like I do knowing that there are so many without what I have?

It wasn’t the first time the tears ran down my 12 year old cheeks and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. I could not fathom why people just didn’t seem to care and as I sat there day in and day out I came up with different ways to help the people living in those tin shacks, the people who use open fires to cook their porridge for breakfast, walk miles to just get some cooking water never mind a bath, they don’t know what baths are. I swore to myself that one day I was going to help the people in the world, that I would do all I can and not just sit by like everyone else seemed to.

During the week when we were home I would walk the 5km home with my younger brother in tow and pass homeless children and adults. Each time we passed them I felt the sadness fill my soul once more, I wanted to start helping them but I was scared, what if I did it wrong? What if the bigger people got angry with me?

After a few weeks walking past them I couldn’t take it anymore, I stopped and stood in front of a little girl. I looked at her, she was so tiny, her clothes torn, the sadness within her young eyes broke my courage free. As I bent down to take off my socks the smell of the streets permeated my whole being, she was hungry and cold. Socks in my hand I passed them to her and showed her how to put them on her feet. I will never forget her smile for as long as I live, she seemed to lighten. My used socks were the first gift she had ever received.

My socks made a difference and I decided right then and there that I would carry a pair of clean ones where ever I went from then on. I also decided that I would take some of mothers money and buy chocolates and crisps for the people I passed.

There were times that people passing by such scenes, well dressed and warm, fed and plump. They would tell me to leave the people alone, that I must go home and not worry about them, that it was their choice, that they should just get up and get work. I would look at them with silence, finish what I was doing and only once the people who had stopped had left would I continue home. I was not going to let them win, deep in my heart and soul I knew that they were wrong and it broke my heart.

I learnt a hard lesson every time someone tried to make me stop. I learnt that humans don’t see the world as I do, they don’t understand, they don’t care or try to do something even if its only small. I decided that I was going to continue as I did, that I wasn’t going to stop doing something that felt a part of me. I accepted that people were different and that some were just too busy in their own warm fully fed lives to see, that people felt guilt if they opened their eyes.

I felt strange and odd, I felt a misfit, an alien in the world. People always looking at me funny, telling me that I was different and not normal. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t stop the intense tight knot of sadness in my stomach. I couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop wanting to make a difference but I was going to do it quietly and without witnesses because the others as I now called them put other meanings to what I did.

Many years have passed since that time and the sadness still sits in my stomach like a big volcano. It simmers and bubbles away, overflowing when I watch the news, read a newspaper, see someone in pain or experiencing hard times.

The now is no different than the then except with one huge exception. The me in the present now knows of others that feel and do as I do, of people who cry tears for the world and use their souls to cast light upon the world. There are many of them and I have been blessed to be shown that they exist, better yet these people are my friends whom I hold dear within the walls of my heart.

No act of kindness is too small

No act of love too great

Together we might not be able to solve all the worlds problems, we might not be able to feed every starving soul or clothe them, put them in a warm house or teach them to read.

What stops us?

Poverty Breeding Weakness? DUH!

2008-12-08T17:15:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I just have to close my eyes and shake my head at the “research” that is carried out. Honestly at times it makes me just wonder who the bright spark was who came up with the idea of the study?

So, they have just unveiled this new study which shows that children who are poverty stricken, who are surrounded by toxic environments, abuse, poor hygiene and diet suffer developmentally. WOW. I mean honestly! What a break through! You guys deserve a medal! Great thinking! As far as I am to understand it, this type of research on this subject has been known since hmmm cavemen time? The better nourished, the stronger the person. The more loved, the happier and more well adjusted. The more successful hunters back in the cavemen times even knew this. Everyone had an “order” to eat just like in the animal kingdom. The weakest of the group get the scraps as their worth to the society is lessened, therefore they don’t ever develop into anything more than they are. Sometimes, they themselves are killed out of need for the rest of the society.

So tell me oh genius ones who do these studies, what was the point here? Was it to study the neuro-development of these children to prevent disease later in life? Or is this it? You are going to leave us with this wonderful, no one ever thought of it piece of documented “evidence” and call it a day? I want to know exactly how much money was spent on this wonder? I bet it was a load.

Understanding medicine, our bodies is indeed a nobel task for those who research tirelessly. But it is hardly newsworthy when the studies are reported like this. I mean we all do understand this one pretty much down the line do we not? Is it the intricacies here that the study was trying to establish of exactly how it affects function? I read the study, and that was well… unclear.

http://www.usatoday.com/news/health/2008-12-07-childrens-brains_N.htm?csp=34

Warmth In Cold

2008-12-07T06:41:00.000-08:00

I don’t know about you, but I suffer from the Winterassgrowth disease, yip you know the one where you get all cosy, eat more, less exercise and just be, that one. Much like a squirrel storing its supplies for hibernation our bodies tend to hit this mode, anything we eat it keeps some back in “supplies” to keep our bodies warm.

So if you are like me then ten to one you don’t tend to work out or exercise as hard during winter as you would in summer. First hint of summer and we go “oh bleep” and start a mad rush to get in shape so that we can fit back into our summer clothes. Pure incredible madness.

In emotions it is much the same. During the winter, sad, depressing, rough times in our lives we tend to bury ourselves much like that squirrel in hope of sunshine. We build our defences, erect our walls, turn people away and run from our problems in hope that they would just disappear in our melancholy. We spend our time coping, surviving and keeping warm, not working out our emotional muscles, learning from the experience and breathing. We stop breathing.

Both you and I know our problems never just go away, if we don’t deal with our pasts, our issues or learn the lessons that need to be learnt they come back to bite us on our asses. We both know that they bite hard when they do and ten to one it's during a glorious summer. Because we never faced what we needed to, because we ran away instead of facing everything head on our summer days are shortened and tarnished with winter rains.

What if while going through a really rough time we hold on tight, we hang in there, we face the things that come our way and we breathe…

Foot Over Mouth

2008-12-06T17:03:00.000-08:00

The noose of those in our lives that strangle the very life force from both your soul and your bones. In life you get the drainers or if you will chokers, they are the ones that want to control you, break your spirit down until it is mere shards lying scattered upon the ground. They take pleasure tightening the noose around your neck, inch by inch, sometimes slowly, sometimes with a huge jerk and pull, your oxygen dissipates.

I’ve had a noose around my head for as long as I’ve been able to take a breath of air and at times it was so tight that I could barely move let alone walk. People tend to throw guilt trips around like mothers would throw candy. At times it was just there, hanging loosely, waiting for the next tug, the next moment of strangulation.

The driving force behind these peoples actions, for them putting the noose around our necks, is many but in my case it is the need. Pure need. The need to have control over something uncontrollable, the need for love, understanding, insecurity and the need to ward off loneliness, to feel worth while and happy. They put the onus on you for all things for which they can not find within themselves, they depend on you to the extent that if you set a toe over the border to your wants and your needs they try to reign you in.

It’s a constant battle of push-pull and what makes it worse is when the relationship with the noose is such that it makes it not so easy to just cut the rope from their hands and set yourself free.

The only way I can get rid of this noose is to don some high heels. High heels in life are those that lift you up, strengthen your spirit without draining your life force. Instead these people energize you and help you reach new heights.

Problem though is that once you start taking the noose off, cutting those ties, a tug of war ensues pulling you off balance (try walking in high heels for the first time and you will know what I talk of). The noose suddenly feels the slack in the rope and quickly grabs it with all force and tries their damndest to gain control once more. If you learn how to walk in those heels quick enough, strengthen your leg muscles and breathe it is possible to regain the balance. Difficult as it may seem, it is possible to learn how to walk.

Over the last year I’ve gained a few pairs of these high heels and they have helped stave off the power of the noose around my neck. I’ve had to relearn how to walk without the weight of the rope pulling my airways through. I’ve had to learn how to breathe again and to exercise my vocal and spiritual lungs. The noose didn’t like this much, not at all.

_{A thank-you to my friends}

Dust Of The Earth

2008-12-05T13:28:00.001-08:00

" With a passion for ideas, a mind for philosophy, and a heart for the aesthetics of truth, it wasn’t long before Rebecca found her niche in the art of documentary. She discovered that film making is a process of transformation and that it is important not only to affect the audience, but the people involved in the production of the film itself. Rebecca hopes to create films that inspire people to be better than they are, to consider things that don't normally enter into their cognitive sphere, and to approach life as an open debate full of ideas, controversy and respect. " - indiepixfilms.com

Blinkx Video: Rebecca Rose - Dust Of The Earth

Just a bit of even older work.. 2005... Comment away.

November Bray

2008-11-22T23:09:00.000-08:00

late november
still no snow

mr winter is waiting
on the subway
like everyone else
for a second there
you almost had me fooled

I belong to nobody
and nobody is always around me
playing with my laughter
making me smile
because it’s all so silly

life is too easy
let’s complicate it
to make it smaller
the secret is out
but you are not listening

my warm sweater
matches my heart
and my blood red nails polish
brings colors to life

it’s been a crazy year

winter waits for nobody
it’s all around me

Certainty For The Passing Skies

2008-11-19T23:41:00.000-08:00

You know, even if I don't write in a public journal, I always write. For no reason at all I'm debating on posting them, atleast some of them. Most who read my journal get the impression I leave my inner most thoughts here . . .

_{I really wish that were the case.}

- Update

It's Nov 30th and I've gotten midway through June... Tedious tasks tend to take me forever. Forgive me.

Compassion For The Masses

2008-11-19T13:25:00.000-08:00

I've changed, I've evolved, and I've gotten myself stuck in a situation that I'm not sure how to do the thing I'm best at- run.

If a person stays in an unhappy relationship are they wasting each other’s time to move forward in life? If person cannot truly be themselves around the person they are with, then what is the point of being with them in all reality? It also stops a person from becoming the person truly are meant to be... A happy relationship leads to a happy life since it all works together. Or so I keep telling myself...

Then I've to ask myself if a happy relationship is even able to exist. People's social behaviours change as often as the wind, thus how do you ever know what you have will last beyond this passing breeze?

I want moments in life to mean something more than just another day. I want a kiss to mean more than just a kiss.

I am simple girl that I am not the type that needs all of his attention every single minute of the day. It is those simple things that get to my heart the most like cooking dinner, flowers, watching a movie at home, a smile with a hug or a simple note with saying he wants me. Getting to my heart is very simple with kindness and compassion.

The heart says so many feelings that cannot be explained. It feels so strong at moments feels so right at other times can feel so wrong. I think the egyptians were correct, it's stronger than we think it is. It does what it wants at times really have no control over it. The heart has mind of its own in so many ways. That cannot be explained with a word but felt with a feeling.

I'm not sure if I'm justified in my worries, each passing moment I think I grow to resent a little more for serveral different reasons. I do my best not to step on toes or tread water, not like some people, for I am not careless. Is it too much to ask for someone who holds emotion in the same regaurd?

_{When he resembles the man I got involved with, I am madly in love with him
I've always been attracted to him
I liked the humble loyal man he was, the cocky guy who I cant trust is a stranger to me}

Expectations Of Self

2008-06-27T13:34:00.000-07:00

Who are you? Are you the person that you allow the world to see? Or do you hide behind a mask of who you think the world wants? If you do hide, why isn’t being you good enough?

I think many of us go through life always trying to please everyone else. We become what others say we should be. But what about us? What about what we want for ourselves? Do we value that person who is ourselves so little that we are willing to sacrifice them for the sake of others wishes and needs? And to what cost to our own being are we doing that?

Do you always find yourself a chameleon in your crowd? Blending in with whoever you are around at that moment? Ever wondered to yourself why? I have wondered that very thing. Why I try to blend into the world, when I obviously evolved to stick out! I was never supposed to be someone who just went along with the program of life. I am supposed to forge a new life for myself, showing others the way how to do it for themselves.

My times where I am most unhappy is when I try to be something for someone else and don’t stay true to who I am. I question myself the most at these times, and I try to learn from my mistakes. Still occasionally I fall like everyone else does into the trap of being a people pleaser. I don’t like to create waves or cause grief. I like to make everything calm in my surroundings. Sometimes that means compromising myself to make that happen. How sad is that?

I like who I am. I am proud of the woman I see in the mirror each day. My goal to leave this world a better place is a lofty one and one that I am happy with. I never intentionally do harm or have malice of heart or spirt. So what else should I expect from me I wonder?

Turn Left

2008-06-17T22:17:00.000-07:00

Depending on what stage we are in our lives, we can sometimes feel like we ought to know more about who we are or how to live. We may even berate ourselves for making the same mistakes, or for just not “getting it,” whatever “it” may be. We wonder how our lives would be now, if only we had “known better.” During moments like these, it is important to remember that none of us are born with instruction manuals and that learning lessons is a lifelong journey.

Inherent to our being born is that we are here to observe, learn, and grow. Accompanying this is a built-in guarantee that there will be mistakes and misadventures along the way. And while it is only natural that we may sometimes become overwhelmed, especially when the lessons keep coming, it is important to remember that learning to understand yourself and your world is an ongoing and active process where the journey is more important than the destination. Every lesson is intended so you can become more of who you are. And as you grow through this self-discovery, you begin to create your own instruction manual. The “how’s” and “why’s” are yours to discover, and part of the beauty of being alive is that these rules are always changing.

If you feel that you would like to explore what your personal instruction manual may already say, then try writing down in order some of the significant events that have happened to you. It’s also important to take note of what you learned from each one. When you are done, you may be surprised to discover how much you are always growing, and that every lesson learned always informs the next. That being said, there is never any need to be hard on yourself or think that you should have it all figured out. We always know as much as we’re meant to know at that moment, and growing into our fullness is a process that unfolds in divine timing. You and your life are beautiful works in progress. Discover yourself and embrace your life’s lessons, and your instruction manual will create itself.

Have A Nice Day!

2008-06-15T12:48:00.000-07:00

I have read a great deal about positive thinking and how it can help aid in success and happiness. People who have motivational sayings, pictures of goals that can be seen often and repeatedly have more of a statistical chance to make those goals happen. That is a fact according to the studies I have read.

I am unsure if the reason for this is that you are constantly reminded to keep your “eye on the ball” so to speak, or if it changes your thinking in ways that make you behave in a more successful manner.

Years ago I read an interesting study about successful people. Some huge percentage of those people wrote out a list of goals that they wanted to achieve in high school, and a life plan on how to attain those goals. An even higher percentage of those who made lists, gave themselves timelines in order to achieve each step towards their goal.

Many books have been written about this subject. Seeing yourself successful and happy being the theme. Books like “The Secret” and “7 habits of highly effective people”.

I have mentioned that as a child I attended Silva Mind Control seminars with my mother which focuses on the same type of positive thinking equals positive results philosophy. Dare I say it, but part of the basis of Scientology (those whackjobs) is overcoming negative thinking and visualizing your goals as being achieved.

My mother who was in sales for basically her whole career used to visualise herself making the sale. When she did this, and she focused on it, she noticed a dramatic increase in her sales. Once she was very frustrated with her management in one store, so she decided to visualize herself being top salesperson to show that manager he was wrong. She achieved her goal and surpassed her targets for the entire quarter in that month.

The problem with this is that it takes discipline and focus. Most people do it for a while and then forget. That is why tangible reminders like pictures on your refrigerator door, desktop on your computer, and notes to yourself help keep you motivated and on track.

Positive thinking really has no drawback. It costs nothing to do, there is no side effect or downside. Maybe its worth thinking about to make the changes in your life that you wish to make? Worst thing that could happen with all of that positive energy is that you could in fact “Have a nice day”!

Forgiveness Is Not Forgetting

2008-06-12T17:49:00.000-07:00

I have been in situations where people have hurt me to the core of my being. I mean, really truly hurt me. Yet, they have later come to me and have apologized for their tresspasses towards me and asked for my forgiveness. I have forgiven them both for them and for me. I haven’t seen the point in hanging on to the anger and the bitterness of the situation.

There have been times I have chosen although to forgive this person, at the same time, I have not chosen to continue with them in my life. That was a difficult thing. It leaves them feeling as though they haven’t been truly forgiven. They have. I just don’t need to put myself into that situation again to be hurt. I have realised I don’t NEED that person in my life and what they brought to my life wasn’t significant enough to warrant me continuing to have any kind of contact or relationship. It was unhealthy.

I have also been in the position of looking at the entire situation, the person as a whole and being able to really see the hurt for what it was. I was able to forgive that person, not forget what they have done, but love them and move on with them as a part of my life. It wasn’t an easy thing to do by any means. Trust had to be re-established. They as a person had to be worth risking putting myself out there for again. What they brought to my life had to be worth it. The good had to outweigh the bad. I had to decide in my mind and heart and soul if this was something that would be isolated, or something that would be habit from them.

Only once in my life have I been someone who has really needed forgiveness for my own transgressions. I made mistakes because I was not trying to hurt anyone but actually I was trying to inflict the most minimal of damage to all parties. Trying to take the biggest hit to myself. It was an arrogant thing to do looking back on it, and in some ways a weak thing. But of course hindsight is always 20/20. I am now the one seeking forgiveness. It is an uncomfortable and an unusual place for me to be. A very humbling place for my soul.

Being on this side of the fence for a change has taught me about patience. I feel now what all of the people have felt when they have wanted my forgiveness in the past. That anxious feeling. That need for the other person to let it go and say it will all be ok. My own need to fix it and make it better due to my guilt, and self loathing.

Being on both ends in my life I see now that it is a process. Not an easy one at that for either party. I have to have faith that forgiveness will come from my heart and from those I seek forgiveness from. One step at a time. One day at a time. At least there will be no fear of anyone forgetting this important life lesson. I am grateful for it. It will make me stronger and better in the end.

Alien Among Us

2008-06-11T22:26:00.000-07:00

Have you ever felt truly loved just for being you, you as you are in your entirety, the bad habits, the good habits, the falls and the rises?

Think of an alien placed in the middle of a busy street. People rushing everywhere and he is trying to get their attention. He is trying to find directions but no one understands what he is trying to saying or what he is all about. No one understands that his skin is green or that he has three eyes.

It gets to the point that the alien all but gives up on the idea of finding someone that will be able to understand him. He meets people on and off that give him the impression at first of understanding only to find that they wanted his shoes, his warm jacket or his soul.

Slowly but certainly the alien starts to believe that he was cursed to a planet of hollow humans. Time and time again the people came to him and each time he would pray to the universal Gods that this time, this time, the person would not turn into a hollow shell. It seemed that the Gods were never listening to his pleas, his soul was tired and weary, his heart all but shattered from exhaustion.

Then one day, as he stood there in the middle of that busy street, a billboard sign flashes “BLOG BLOG BLOG: The safer alternative, a place where you can be yourself and no one can touch you”. He jumped at the idea, started a blog and got to writing, he poured his heart and soul into the words he put to electronic paper. No one had to understand him, at least in the blog world he could tell the ether what he was all about and the ether couldn’t touch him.

As days turned to months he soon realised that the billboard was the first true advertisement he’d ever seen. People were finding his words that truly understood what he was saying. For the first time in his life he was not a fully fledged alien, perhaps it was the other people that were the aliens and not him all along. Suddenly there are actual real people who take the time to try and understand him, people who accept his green skin and aren’t bothered by all his eyeballs staring back at them.

At first he can’t understand what is happening to him, he wants to believe but then is so scared. What if it is a practical joke by the Gods? What if he had died and gone back to Mars? What if it was all just a dream as he lay in the street asleep?

These people who proved to him that he was also human and not the alien he had always felt to be didn’t disappear over night. They didn’t turn into hollow shells nor did they run away as the gremlins came out of the closet. Slowly as each day passed the once alien now human began to adjust, to flex his muscles and to feel fully. His ripped soul started to heal and the walls surrounding both soul and heart started to fall, his shattered heart was all but whole once more.

The relief the alien feels is insurmountable after travelling for decades to find such friendship, a friendship he had only ever dreamt of, longed for, prayed for. The night sky turned to a brilliant sunny day, the busy street began to quieten, filling up with true and genuine people. Life started to feel as though the Gods had only been preparing him for what was to come for had he never known true hollow shelled humans how would he have ever been able to tell the difference between them and the genuine ones?

Yes the Gods had really blessed him for he realised he was in fact a human in an alien world.

He was human and he was loved anyway.

Humpty Dumpty

2008-06-09T14:09:00.000-07:00

Its a strange quest this lifetime of mine, one filled with irony and life lessons till the brim. Each corner I turn lies wait a pouncing tiger just waiting to teach me a new move turning me into mma fighter on steroids before my very eyes. Oh how I wish I could be that some days and know all the moves, have the strength of soul to perfect them to the “T”.

Some days that pass by I find myself the kung fu master only to wake up the next day and find I’ve forgotten the moves. The irony of being is found in so many ways.

I love unconditionally, I love fully but I when another person tries to love me to the same level I get scared, nervous and on edge as if they are the tiger not I.

I give unconditionally; I give my last cent to the person who needs it and sometimes to the person who doesn’t. I do it without them knowing and sometimes with them aware, either way I give with out thinking. If someone else tries to give to me I refuse it or worse yet I tell them that I can’t accept their gift for they shouldn’t and can’t spend on me even if it is in love.

I support others whole heartedly, I cheer leader them and throw the pom poms around with much fan fair, I help them through difficult times, offer both my shoulders to cry on and help them in any way I can. If someone tries to help me, support me, I get nervous, scared, stubborn and well I tell them I can do it alone.

I can listen to others for hours about their troubles, their life and their highs, it doesn’t bother me, I actually prefer it. I don’t find it easy to talk about me, my problems, my life or my highs. They just happen and most often than not I “process” them first before I talk about any of them at all.

I know why each irony is there, black and white if you prefer. Its so clear as day what the night is that lies beneath each word. I don’t obsess but I do know and understand. Each day that passes me by I struggle with those four ironies of which I am sure there are many more, a constant inner fight to do away with the taught reactions, the learned behaviours and habits.

I try but some days are harder than others, some moments in time I take that step backwards in order to take the two forwards. I hurt people when I do and that makes the one step backwards turn into 10, it hurts the deepest parts of me when I hurt others, it breaks off a chunk of my heart and throws it in the fire of torment. I hate doing that and knowing that I do by the actions I carry out turns the irony of being me into a glorified mess of catastrophic proportions.

Sometimes the lessons we need to learn in life can make us feel like over used punch bags, sometimes though they are just teaching us how to put the shards back together again.

Gift Wrapped

2008-06-07T21:44:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning with this song playing in my head, the words danced on my lips and I sang it quietly while the rest of the world slumbered. For me it’s a song of hope, of not losing sight of your dreams and going with the flow that is the river of life.

Sometimes things come to try us, so much so that we focus so much on the reality of the now that we forget our inner longings, our hopes, our dreams… sometimes even who we truly are. Perhaps it is much like putting parts of us into a little box for safe keeping. The problem is sometimes we forget the box altogether only remembering it’s existence once it is so covered and bogged down by others that it takes years to recover it.

Ironically the things we put in the boxes within our mind are most often the very things that will help us get through…

Air For Healing

2008-06-06T16:29:00.000-07:00

One day we wake up to find ourselves in the water without a lifeboat or buoy, nothing to help us float, we’re stuck with no way towards the land.

We slowly start treading the water, at first its easy, our legs keep us going, our arms move slowly in the water. We stay a float, our heads are in the fresh air and things seem bearable.

Slowly we start to tire, our mental muscles start taking strain, our proverbial legs become exhausted and our arms numb. Our bodies start to sink as if invisible hands have grabbed onto our ankles and pulling us under. The deeper we are pulled the colder it gets, our spirits become dampened.

At first we fight, we summon up the last shred of energy to kick back towards the surface, we struggle with all our might against the invisible hands. When we break the surface we gasp for air, pulling as much into our lungs as we call, we cough the water we swallowed out. We continue to try with all our might to keep our heads in the fresh air.

As our mental muscles tire, as we fight to stay above water we start to feel something brush against our legs on and off. Thoughts of “What was that??? Was it seaweed??? Was it a fish??? eel??? SHARK???” run through our minds only to realise that it was just another change in the current we find ourselves in. We feel things in a heightened state, our senses feel things that are perceived but not necessarily real.

If our minds are too tired and our senses too heightened we run the risk of never realising that it wasn’t a shark or even a fish, we believe, see, feel, perceive it to be full blown reality. The risk of being in this state is that it pulls our focus off keeping our heads above the water, while fighting off the sharks and creatures brushing against our legs we don’t realise how far we have sunk into the darkness. The deeper we sink the harder it is to get ourselves back towards the surface.

No matter how far down we go in the ocean of life we always have the “will” to survive, it is a natural instinct that each one of us carries deep inside of ourselves. It lies there, sometimes almost dormant in its nature, but always present. The “will” is a decision that each one of us makes every day, if we realise we have sunk deeper we need to use our legs, our arms, our everything to push ourselves back up towards the surface. Our arms, our legs, they are our friends, our hobbies, our passions… sometimes our mental muscles get so numb that we forget that they are there waiting and willing. Our helping hands.

Every single one of us, both you and I, carry faith, belief and hope. These are human characteristic’s that we all have, it doesn’t matter whether you are an Atheist, Christian, Spiritualist or Buddhist. It doesn’t matter what or who you are, where you are from, young or old, poor or rich, we all have them.

Faith that everything will work out, that our feet will touch solid ground one day soon

Belief that it all happens for a reason, that the world is just as it is and that everything is possible, belief in yourself, belief in hope, belief that the solid ground is closer than we think.

Hope that things will get better and that we can do what we need to do, that we will one day reach land once more after being in the water for so long

No matter what you go through in life or how deep you find yourself in the water always remember your legs, your arms and those three things. Put those words on post-it notes if you have to, make sure they’re in your face and say them out loud. All these things are air, they are like a oxygen mask that’ll help you breathe and float towards the top.

If all else fails just stop what you are doing, take a deep breath and float… before you know it you will have reached the surface and will feel the air hitting your lungs once again.

Breathe… Faith… Hope… Belief…

Don’t give up for you’re a better swimmer than you think…

And Counting Was Easy

2008-06-05T23:08:00.000-07:00

In the blink of an eye it can all change, just one step out that door and the world can turn to black, just one step. Leave a lit room, step over the threshold of the door into the night and all you will see is pure black darkness.

Once you step over that threshold into the darkness you get three choices

You gallantly step forward braving the darkness not knowing in which direction you are going, what obstacles stand before you or whether anything can bash you in the head

You step vigilantly into the dark putting one foot in front of the other with your hands out feeling your way forward in order to make sure you aren’t going to connect with any obstacles.

You cross over the threshold, stand still, take a deep breath and allow the darkness to envelope you. As you stand on the spot, your eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, slowly you are able to see everything around you clearly, all obstacles, paths and possible directions.

Are any of these three choices the right one or is it reliant on our individual personalities?

At different stages in my own life I have used each of these three choices.

Option 1:

At times option one worked best for me, I had little time to sit and think about my options, I didn’t have time to come up with a strategy plan or wait for the darkness to clear. I was thrown in the deep end and tried to swim the best I could. Along the way I bumped into many an obstacle, I bashed my head more times I can say but ultimately it was the best way forward for me at that time in my life. I was on the go constantly, there was no time to rest. Survival.

Option 2:

When I finished school I decided to study my second love, computers, got a great job at a hi-tech company where I was the only woman working amongst males in a technology field. I walked through that door and put my hands out, it was a whole new universe for me and I didn’t have time to stand back and wait for my eyes to adjust. I had to feel as I went and hope that I would feel the obstacles before they hit me. At first I progressed slowly and as my eyes adjusted I sped up, I moved forwards and the light came.

Option 3:

This year has been one that has truly rocked my world, turned it upside down and then back again. It has been constant change and then not enough change, spiritual growth, lost friendships and incredible new ones, heartache, heart wonders and turmoil both in outer life and inner being. I walked into this year and stood still, I could do no other. I stood, took a deep breath and allowed the darkness to envelope me in its arms. As time passed things started to become more clear, I saw the different paths lying before me, the dream plants of new and old, obstacles and things to avoid, what to jump over and what to move. I saw my path.

Was the option I chose for each circumstance wrong or was it the right one for me at that particular time in my life?

Perhaps there is never a right way to do things.

I can turn around to you right this minute and say STOP THAT BUS RIGHT THERE but will I be right if I hadn’t taken the time to know you, to understand your process or what you are going through? What would give me the right to judge your process and tell you that you are on the right track if I hadn’t taken the time?

We each own our own process for which you have the choice to share with another to gain advice or just an ear. That process is yours and you decide whether the advice given fits with you or whether it is wrong. That decision is always yours, no one else’s. The advice might be right, it may be wrong, no one ever knows for sure, all it is in reality is a flashlight in the dark to help you on your way.

Those three options are eternal and interchangeable. If you think you are charging off into the night and should rather stop in your tracks and stand still for a moment to adjust to the new light then stop in your tracks. Stand for a moment and take a deep breath, breathe, wait, breathe, till you you can see more clearly.

Introspection

2008-06-02T17:59:00.000-07:00

I have learnt that …

_{Life will always challenge you in order to keep you on your toes so that you don’t stagnate and in turn smell of stale air.

It is very rare that you actually have a real choice whether you go through a traumatic experience or not.

I am stronger than I ever thought I was

My view on both my body and soul is warped in comparison to what others see

Cookies taste great but don’t look good on your thighs or stomach

Creativity is essential to my whole, to my soul and everything that I am.

Looking through a camera at the world opens your eyes far more than without

Take a deep breath before saying anything especially under stress or anger, breathe, breathe, breathe!

That although breathing is good one must do it slowwwwly or run the risk of falling over. Oxygen is important

Some people will beat you up, they can have hate in their eyes, cause you malicious trouble and harm; it only makes you who you are if you allow it to

Attitude is everything

A small drop in the ocean can create a tidal wave

Self tan washes off if you don’t apply it too often

Showering with sunglasses on during summer can recreate dancing in the rain on a beautifully warm night without the risk of birds pooping on your head or in your mouth.

Nature teaches me daily about the world, the way things work and myself

I can’t save the world but I each day I can try make it a better place, if not for everyone then at least for one.

I will never understand the cruelty in the world nor do I want to

The thorns do not make the rose, the soil it is planted in and the strength of its roots do

Some people take their place in the world for granted, they do not care and that this is just the way they are. There are others, many others that do and together they stand fighting for the good.

Standing by your convictions will never be easy but the knowledge that you just stood by is far worse than anything anyone can do to you.

My childhood is nothing compared to millions right this minute

Unconditional love exists and is real, it’s reciprocated and it is all I dreamt it would be

There will only ever be as many stars in the night sky as we allow there to be}

I have learnt that … above all else I am eternal student

Ticking Clocks

2008-06-01T23:52:00.000-07:00

How does one cross over into your destiny? I recently wrote about how all of us attend the University of Life, about the chapters in ones life and how they move forward.

How do you step into your destiny?

You go through most of your life believing yourself to be an alien amongst perceived humans, you believe no one understands you, no one thinks or cares as you do. Life is dismal and hopeless till one day you find an iridescent star in the night sky, you find true friendship with unconditional love.

How do you step into your destiny?

Life truly does change within the blink of an eye, one morning you wake up and whoa your life has changed in just one instant second, one millisecond it can turn on its head!

How do you step into your destiny?

You work the winter in order to enjoy the summer fully, you go through ups and downs that bring to your knees. You shed the layer up on layers of self tan, break down the walls of life that once served as protection from all the elements.

How do you step into your destiny?

At times, moments, you wonder if what you are doing, what you are going through, your life is destroying your soul. It breaks you beyond words till one day you start to see the light and realise that your soul is the light, you float.

How do you step into your destiny?

Some days are so rough that it feels as though a weight has been tied to your feet and pulling you to the darkest depths of a turbulent ocean. You fight with all your might to keep your head above water, you kick and you tread the water. You try everything. Then you float.

How do you step into your destiny?

Along you float through the river, at first murky, slowly becoming the River of your Dreams. You dream and yet you don’t, you have faith and believe what will be will be, that everything happens for a reason and will work out. Faith and hope, belief and humour, you carry on no matter what comes your way, no matter what hurdles get flung at you. You carry on.

_{How do you step into your destiny?

You don’t step into it

You walk into it

You wake up into it

You’re in it}

U of L

2008-05-28T20:47:00.000-07:00

The hardest University to ever attend, there are no application forms, there are no entrance exam’s apart from getting out of the birth canal in one piece. The moment we take our first breath we are admitted into the University of Life from which we only graduate upon our death’s.

Life long learning, training, exams and tests, multiple choices are the name of the game with no clear guidebooks. We are given a few tools here and there but it is up to us how we learn, whether we study, accept the lessons and grow. If we fail we get to redo the test, often over and over until we have finally understood the material at hand.

On the day of our birth the first chapter is opened, closing with a traumatic or life changing event, then moving on to the second. There are no time limits to these chapters, they progress at our speed no matter what we think or feel, we govern the speed at which we learn. Each person is different as to how many chapters they will have in their lifetimes, some have many, some have only a few. It is up to the person.

The pattern of a chapter?

Our first chapters all start the same, with birth, the only difference is the how, complications, etc.

Towards the end of a chapter we start to face a change, a big decision, a challenge or a trauma. What ever it is, it unsettles us and forces us to step out of our normal existence and to “deal” with something.

Once the “dealing” has taken place, the decision made, the trauma healing, the change accepted, we come to a point where there is a calm within us. Sometimes this happens right after the “change”, sometimes a little while after. The chapter only closes once we have come through the “other side”.

Perhaps you are nodding, seeing all the chapters that went before this moment. Perhaps you are sighing, saying to yourself “ok this one needs an institution”.

I find understanding the process and the patterns in life calming, knowing that a chapter is at its climax and about to end settling. I knuckle down and focus on learning the lessons, on surviving and getting through it. I keep faith in that process and the fact that there is a reason behind it all. Keeping the faith and believing can be a constant battle of heart and mind, soul and spirit, some days are easier to get through, some days not so easy.

In my 24 years I have experienced many life chapters, some with harder more excruciating lessons than the others. Each lesson taught me an essential skill to enable me to go through the next, each helped me to grow and to be who I am today. My lessons were no less and no more than yours, they are just different.

There is no quantifying criteria nor badges awarded for the chapters we go through… just growth. Friends, family, passions, hobbies and sheer willpower will get you through each and every single one of them

Ultimately… you determine the speed at which you learn, you determine the success of each chapter and finally it’s up to you what you do with each that passes.

Go with the flow, if the shit is hitting the fan it means a new chapter is dawning and sunshine is on its way!

Farewell

2008-05-25T09:28:00.000-07:00

Never easy no matter what the circumstances surrounding them or how crazy the situation is.

Tonight I said goodbye to a friend that has known me forever, she knows me backwards, each and every expression on my face, the different tones in my voice and my fake laugh. This friend of mine has also known my situation the longest, she knew way back when how things were, how the people in my life were and the antics they got up to. She knows my heartaches, my heartbreaks, my story and my bad habits. Six years of a bond closer than blood.

All along she has wanted to help me but unable, she has had her own horrors, her own heartbreaks and torments. This year I have held her as she has cried and she I, together it has been rivers.

Tonight was different to how it was when we said bye to each other last year. It was different because of the year and the knowledge within our hearts. Her words “I am not sad, I am so glad and relieved that you are getting out of that situation, that you are going to a better place and that you can put it all behind you. I am so sad you are going but glad”

Although my heart aches with the knowledge that I won’t be seeing her for a very long time (if all goes to plan) I know she and I will be eternal no matter what comes our way, what life throws at us. Our friendship is thicker than blood.

Saying bye to those you love is never easy, for me it is never goodbye, always just bye. Till we meet again.

No Mockery Too Fine

2008-05-24T13:53:00.000-07:00

If someone composed an insulting ditty about me, I doubt that I would want to sing it. Here in the US, however, that is not the case. Even before the US rebellion against the Crown British troops sang a song that mocked the rough and ready colonists. The song is Yankee Doodle, sung with pride by modern day Americans, and the state anthem of Connecticut:

Yankee Doodle went to town
Upon a little pony
He stuck a feather in his hat
And called it Macaroni

For those who wonder about the apparent pasta reference; Macaroni was a name given to English gentlemen who were foppish and over concerned with dressing smartly. The implication is that the ignorant colonist thought that putting a feather in his cap was enough to make him a smartly attired gentleman.

Remember Well

2008-05-23T20:33:00.000-07:00

Simple right? I don’t quite know about the simple part in that whole remembering what you learnt process.

That’s one of the things I’ve worked so hard at not doing that all of a sudden I am doing ALL the time again. All sentences either start with “sorry” or end with one, period. It’s like a new slang that is so old for me its tiring.

I am smoking, albeit its the secret, have done for 3 weeks now and all during the time that I was keeping everyone from themselves, or eachother. It is no excuse, I felt the stress, I bought the smokes, bought another box and then another. Stupid really but there you go, no turning back just quitting. The guilt though for not telling those I love hurts more than I can put into words because I feel like I’ve let everyone done. Another reason perhaps for “sorry” to everything.

I find myself on edge and losing self belief, self confidence… the old “what if’s” have returned and it’s driving even me nuts. What if they don’t like me? What if I don’t fit in? What if I can’t be my witty self anymore?

What if this is all a dream and I wake up once again tomorrow only to find my heart broken for a fourth time? Each time I heard the news broke a new chunk of my heart off. Sure I act all strong but it did break me.

Truth is I know I will be fine, I know that I am strong, that I can handle any kind of situation, that I can do anything. It’s not ego its experience from being here so many times before but for some reason I temporarily lost all that I had learnt over the year past.

So if I seem a bit odd, or if I say sorry, act freaked out or worried or just plain nuts know that its just fear and the fact that I am freaking out just a little… kind of like a speed wobble, like jello on a dashboard… yips that’s me in moments.

None of it is helped by the fact that my loved ones are being overly protective all of a sudden, wanting to take control of my process.

I know what I have to do and I know the days are flying and I will be there very soon indeed, in the mean time I just ask that you cross your fingers and your toes for me…

In Pursuit Of Freedom

2008-05-21T14:09:00.000-07:00

Me for 24 years minus a few here and there, freedom within my soul and freedom within the worlds I found myself. Freedom. Something so many in this world have no concept of because they have never experienced it, something that people the world over crave, need, hope for. Freedom.

For as long as I can remember Freedom was the one thing I sought for and yet it was continually evasive as if it were an aura of mist on the horizon. I stopped looking for it on that horizon a long time ago, losing hope of ever holding it within my hands, feeling it or tasting it. It evaded me continually and as you chase those dreams of freedom you tire, you grow weary and slowly stop reaching for it on the horizon. Instead to save emotional resources you look within, you feel the freedom within your being.

As you close your eyes Freedom is there before you, close enough to touch, you can smell it, taste it on your tongue, it is with you. Freedom like a vision, a fantasy of all that can be, a fairytale within your heart that you hold onto until the horizon comes closer.

My vision started when I was a child, being tortured with tribulations from which the scars I still carry both in my soul and on my body. To stop the tears from running down my cheeks I shut my eyes really really tight, so tight they hurt but made colours appear on my eyelids. Those colours turned into a fairy tale of peace, happiness and safety.

As I looked into the colours calm would flow through my body and I would leave it. Stepping through like Alice in Wonderland I entered the most beautiful place that had butterflies kissing my nose, daisies everywhere I looked, tall trees with cute birds twittering, the sound of the ocean and ice-cream. Ah that ice-cream was the best ever! It never melted on my clothes and no adults could see me eating it. As my body was being hurt my mind was safe, I didn’t hear what the adults said to me, I didn’t feel what they did, no adults could hurt me in my wonderland.

That wonderland was my freedom. When I was scared, I was hurt or being hurt I would close my eyes and go back there. My freedom, one that I still visit often. I never knew the difference, to me that freedom was always real and what it was all about. Freedom, real freedom, I could never imagine, I never truly knew what it would mean to be free.

Not until now.

Now I know what true real life freedom is and hold both my internal and external freedoms within my arms. I’ve tasted the horizon, seen the truth that lies there and know that no matter what, in order to be free, you have to look first within yourself in order to recognise the physical one. You will never know or experience true freedom in life until you experience it within your soul.

It lies within each of us, right there inside you, inside me and inside life.

No matter what we face in this life that freedom is always within us, right there waiting for you to close your eyes and feel it. It’s the secret to life, it is what gets the kids in Africa through cold mornings in tin shacks, it’s what gets terror victims through the horrors that replay before their eyes, it’s what gets adults through the roughest times.

To Those Who May Forget

2008-05-20T19:58:00.000-07:00

Do you remember as kids we were always staring into shiny surfaces, mirrors, water puddles and looking at our reflections and absorbing what we looked like? I remember staring at each part of me in wonder, fascinated at the fact that this was who I was, this was me, Beki.

I didn’t think anything special about the image staring back at me other than the fact that it was me, that I was unique and no one in the whole wide world looked exactly like me. I liked the idea that we were all unique, different and special.

Then I started to realise that something was wrong with my nose. People in my family kept on saying how funny it looked and how if it was bigger they could hold the world Olympics skiing contest on it because of the slope. I started to understand that the reflection staring back at me wasn’t in fact special or different but perhaps deformed like everyone else said.

As the years passed I started avoiding my reflection, I couldn’t stand any photos to be taken of me or even to look in a mirror. I avoided all shiny services because each time I saw my reflection it reminded me that I wasn’t special, that I was weird looking and odd.

In the end I started to believe that my outer look was my inner look. I was deformed, weird and far from special as a whole, my self esteem was gone, my self confidence had evaporated and the negative thought biases started in full force. It became a way of life, a personality trait if you will, to believe, truly believe that I was sub-human.

Bulimia, eating disorders, dependency, self beatings both verbal and physical, acceptance of behaviour towards me that others would not accept. I shrugged it all off, why wouldn’t I? This had always been my life, it was who I was, I knew no different.

Fast forward a couple of years and suddenly I have genuine people who love me, they see the reflection that I saw when I was six and they are ok with it, no comments on my funny nose, how weird I look or any other bad attributes. These people seemed to take me for me but I couldn’t translate it. It blew me away, confused me like nothing else, I questioned each time they said something nice to me, showed me love and acceptance, I couldn’t understand it.

Each time this happened I would go away thinking “ok they are just saying it to be nice to me, don’t take it too seriously, they’ll be normal again sooner than I think, it’s nothing, brush it under the table and normality will return”. Normality never did return and what was once perceived as normality slowly transformed into abnormality.

One step at a time, time and time again, I was shown that it was not me that was deformed, weird or odd but rather the people that said those things to me, broke me down and stepped on me. One day shortly after this realisation I built up the courage to face a mirror, truly face it and look at my reflection. I couldn’t hold eye contact with myself but I slowly started to examine my facial features, I looked at the angles, nose, everything, absorbing it all. I lasted 2 minutes and I had to leave my reflection there in the mirror.

Day by day I went back to the reflection staring back at me and slowly I braved staring into my eyes, holding eye contact and absorbing the whole. I became the 5 year old kid again looking fascinatedly at my reflection. After about half an hour I looked myself deep in the eyes, smiled and said out loud “This is me, this is who I am, I am unique and I am special”. I hadn’t realized so intent on staring into my own eyes that tears were running slowly down my cheeks, this time they were tears of joy.

I still stare at my own reflection in the mirror, I absorb each single piece of the map that is me and I smile, I repeat those words as much as I need to hear them, I don’t avoid the shiny surfaces.

I am me, this is who I am, I am unique and I am special… if you don’t like it that is your problem, it’s not mine anymore.

What do you see when you look in to the mirror, do you see the whole you? Or do you see just the face as if its detached?

Schöne Dame schwer ist das herz, He said

2008-05-18T19:02:00.000-07:00

And he couldn't be any more accurate . . . Todays post most of you won't be able to read, and those who can will laugh at my typically eloquent self in my sad approach to bring back some of my youth while not having to worry what I say. And here my attempt goes:

Heute fühle ich mich völlig gebrochen und zerrissen. Ich kann nicht mehr zu hören, Seine Weiche beruhigende Stimme, ich vermisse ihn so sehr den Schmerz ist der Tod zu mir. Ich habe gestrippt nackten ein Telefongespräch zeigt, dass er glaubt, ich habe ihn verraten. Das schmerzt mich kein Ende, denn er war meine Liebe und mein alles nur, wenn er treu bleiben seine Worte zu schätzen und alles, was ich bereit war, aufgeben, um für ihn in Ordnung zu sein.

Die Zeit wird alle Wunden heilen Leute halten mich zu sagen, aber was ist, wenn ich nicht wirklich wollen, dass sie zu heilen, wenn ich den Wunsch nichts mehr zu werden in der gleichen Misere hatte ich fühlte. Sicher werden können, Unwissenheit kann es Verzweiflung zu spüren etwas anderes als dieses unversöhnlich Traurigkeit hält das der unteren meiner Bauch. Ich kann mir nicht helfen, aber frage mich, ob er wirklich liebt ihre Ich glaube, das ist was verletzen mich am meisten.

Es fühlt sich an wie diese ist ein schlechter Traum ging furchtbar schief. Letzte Nacht der Mann, der nicht ihm hat mir gesagt, war ich lächelnd in meinen Träumen. Ich habe nicht die Herzen zu ihm sagen, ich war zu träumen meiner verlorenen Geliebten. Ich habe nicht die Herzen zu ihm sagen, egal, wie süß er war ich bin einfach nicht bereit, loszulassen. Ich bin mehr gefühl jetzt als hoffnungslos Ich kann immer darauf zu erinnern. Kann jemand bitte rette mich?

No Shame In This

2008-05-11T21:28:00.000-07:00

So, we've gotten into the topic of rebounding. My perception on rebounding is a relationship that starts up very quickly after another relationship has ended. Rebounds are rarely based on love but are a way of alleviating the loneliness people feel when a relationship ends.

The are used for the security - The feeling of being in love and more than anything else they want to feel that security again. They convince themselves that they are in love when they are actually missing the safety and comfort of the relationship they left behind.

If an old relationship keeps interfering with the progress of a new relationship it means that the relationship is a rebound. When somebody is on the rebound they are not entirely over their previous relationship. They may still be trying to work out unresolved issues from that relationship.

Now I won't deny that you could say I am rebounding; or that I don't think of him daily. But I can say I no longer have love for him; but more of the person he used to be and the times we once shared - I am for the most part over them too.

You ask if I think he's rebounding. Well, that's something entirely different. Once he said to me, "I used to think love was any pretty girl who payed me attention."

Keep this in mind while you decide, friend. Maturity is something that is above all. It can not be taught, but must be learned.

I said no shame - Pay attention.

For the record, someone who's rebounding would still be impacted by unsettled feelings from the past - At this rate I'll be over it by next month.

I'll Take My Own Advice

2008-05-10T17:08:00.000-07:00

When we feel broken hearted it is all too easy to wallow in the emptiness and pain and forget that as with everything in life this to shall pass. Yes, it is true; you will get over your broken heart and live to love again, as will I.

What is not as certain is how well we will heal. While the pain of every love lost does eventually pass we do carry scars. Some of these scars are nothing more than memories of events with no recollection of the emotions those events once invoked. In these memories we learn lessons. We learn what we will and will not tolerate in relationships. We learn what our limits are, emotionally speaking, and we learn about our capacity to love. We learn what we want and don’t want in a partner, the traits we find attractive and those that we can live without.

By trial and error we learn what it is we really want in our love life and that makes all the heartbreaks worth the pain. We find out new things about ourselves when we lose love. Some of those things are hard to face because being human we are not perfect and when a relationship ends we are forced to confront our own role in its demise.

Relationships never ever end because of one person. It is an intricate web of many different factors contributed by both parties that determines whether a relationship works out or fizzles out. By treating a break up as a learning experience we can stop ourselves from making similar mistakes in the next relationship.

While it may be repetitive to hear nursing a broken heart is an essential part of having healthy well-adjusted relationships, it is the truth.

Note To Self, & You

2008-05-09T20:52:00.000-07:00

I was asked, "If I were to love, and then discovered it was a lie, would I still love this lie?"

I think this a very important question. One that is far too often overlooked as an obvious. Typically people see themselves as 'I'm too distanced/jaded to admit' that you could possibly be weak to those who burry themselves deep inside your heart - To love is unconditional is it not?

Yet all too often we can decieve ourselves with delusions of our own making and then perhaps, it is the delusion we love and not the person. Beware of this cause for some to say, "Love is blind."

On the one hand love of the delusion is shattered by the acceptance of the truth, but may I suggest that acceptance of the person's reality vouchsafes the love of the person. Therefore your love may remain even if the truth shatters the illusion inflicted upon you.

However, if it is the promise implicit in the illusion and not the reality of that person you need, then it is not love to remain with that person because this ultimately decieves the person and hurts you.

I think that being honest enough to disengage from someone who won't meet your emotional needs is a profound act of love, after all it is not love at all to live a lie.

Glorify The Object

2008-05-08T19:22:00.000-07:00

I wanted to write something profound but I am sitting here bleary-eyed and weary. I have received news recently that will reshape the outlook of my future . . .

I want to accept the fact that this is the life we have and that there are certain things we will and won't have to do/be in order to feel content - yet not so content that we become complacent.

Yes I would like to go back to Europe with a lover one day. Anyones lover for that matter.

As I judge, I can also be judged.

glo·ri·fy
–verb (used with object), -fied, -fy·ing.
1.to cause to be or treat as being more splendid, excellent, etc., than would normally be considered.

2.to honor with praise, admiration, or worship; extol.

Dear Lady,

2008-05-07T21:00:00.000-07:00

I stare into the mirror, but you've already left. Your make-up lingers on my cheek, a badge of your love, my devotion. Outside the heavens explode in an one-instrument harmony; the percussion of raindrops echoing down this lonely street. The crack and roll of the thunder, the encore to the beautiful symphony of the night.

Cut By Numbers

2008-05-07T15:06:00.000-07:00

these
broken bits
of bitterness
that self control
can't
confine have
sold me short
of pretending that
I am
safe.

II.

doing what i've
wanted has left me
miserable
but
hell,
at least
someone
was entertained.

III.

The ocean is beautiful and sad and people love it for a couple of days before leaving it. They call it their home, they say their blood runs thick with it, they breathe the air and finally feel at peace with all their pieces.

They leave and choose every time to continue their old life, the one without surprises and abounding with uneasy comfort. Secretly people long for the ocean, want to remember how happy they felt and be encompassed in wild wonder.

The ocean never changes. It watches as you sit and weep. It watches as you bring new lovers and pretend to have something worth while. As you stand and think and fall in love with crashes. It watches as you grow old and slowly fill with more frustration and anger for a life you can't be bothered to change.

There's a secret that it can't tell you. Something so deep and heartfelt and you can lie to yourself, but that never changed anything. It can't.

The ocean doesn't care. It can't.

IV.

I can't see the ocean from where I live,

but I can feel the pulses in my heart and
at one time
yours.
Mine is fast, fluttery,
will probably fail.

Yours is slow and steady
and strong, except
when I was
close
closer
closed.

My arms tangled with
your arms, my fingers tracing your
fingers, my body aligned
with your body, my mouth on your
lips. we covered each other,
saved each other.

Nothing
was said.

You called me nice as I showed every hateful part of my personality. We spoke of the woman you were going to sleep with that night, not a suitable replacement for me but one that won't ask as many questions. You laughed over my slipping words, my inexcusable panic. I stared you down as you tried to bring up the courage to look me in the eye. You watched my control dissolve into a scar, one that creates hard eyes and false smiles.

The rhythms are pounding in my
mind, in my lungs. I need escape,
but it will only be a
vacation, a few days of
quiet before chaos
catches up.
I can't escape my thoughts.
I want to scream, but I need
the silence so terribly.
I want to leave.
Every thing is so broken.
The ocean is too far away
(like yourheartbeat)
and the rain does believe in always.

Remember?

I wanted to ask if I was beautiful now that I have nothing to offer you. I told you that I wasn't willing to ignore the worst parts of your personality, that I accepted you as a whole being. You told me you have grown tired, so tired. (I couldn't wake you up. I can't make you see. You're just so scared.) You looked bored. It would have been the same reaction if I had told you I loved you. I didn't know real life could be this goddamn dramatic, this ugly . . . this sad.

It's a desolate
cold place.

Loneliness, that is.

A Reasonable Observation

2008-05-06T22:06:00.000-07:00

Today's blog is going to be about sex, so be forewarned.

A friend asked me , "Today I took a girl out, it went well. Everything seemed to go as planned and I just assumed I'd get some ass.. What's up with women not wanting to have sex?"

Unfortunately, as you approach twenty-five or so, you notice a trend shift. More and more often, you'll be expecting to get some and won't get any at all.

Here boys, I will let you know a secret of the ages... While a lady does not mind being single, and has no plans of becoming celibate, she will realise that there are certain rules and guidelines to the game of casual sex to which a woman in her twenties and thirties must adhere if she plans to protect herself from a rather juvenile case of broken heart.

Single, intelligent, sexually active women do not have casual sex with men they consider to be in the "candidate pool".

This "candidate pool" consists of men that a woman knows who have presented the requisite traits and attributes for being considered for an exclusive, progressive relationship.

In short, a woman should not "fuck" a man she considers "lovable".

Not "lovable" in the casual sense of the word, like a puppy or a friendly midget, but in the practical sense. That is, a man they could fall in love with.

I know, fellas. Absurd.

The logic goes as follows:
"If he's cute and he turns you on and you think he might be good in the sack, give him some. If he's all those things, maybe even to a lesser degree, but is also atypically kind and sensitive, cultured, mature, intelligent and ambitious, then make him wait."

Preposterous, right? But I shit you not, this is the way we think. And it's mostly your fault for being so callous in your kind of seek-and-destroy approach. We have adapted and evolved as a gender. Your covers are blown.

So, if you want sex from a woman, but you're not interested in anything beyond that, here is the trick. Be "just nice enough". Don't be a prick. That won't get you anywhere. Be nice. But just enough. Occasionally you must do something assholish to remind her that she could never be with someone like you. Something that will remove you from the candidate pool.

See, if you look at it like a spectrum consisting of four overlapping "zones" or "pools", then it makes sense.

It begins with the dreaded "friend zone". Here you have no chance of getting any because you have somehow trained her to regard your penis as an afterthought.

Then there is what they call the "yummy zone". Here she is planning to give up the draws just as soon as the opportunity presents itself because she finds you so "yummy".

Then there is the bittersweet "candidate zone", or "pool" as it were. Here sex is a possibility, but only under the "right" circumstances. And if it does take place, things will only get more complicated from there. This is my least favorite place to be.

Then there is the "asshole zone". There are many ways to get here, before or after sex.

Ironically, there is a strong possibility of sex here. She hates you, and for women, that is intoxicating. Fortunately, this is reversible. It's far better to be here than in the friend zone though. You're more likely to get laid.

So, there you have it. You're welcome.

Where Is The Beer

2008-05-05T18:10:00.000-07:00

Life is a series of ups and downs, a never ending and constantly changing cycle. Your life and your outlook on it greatly influences the lengths and severity of these inevitable changes. Right now, I am on a serious downer and the only thing that is cheering me up right now is the progress in my music and this blog.

As of now, I am dreading the coming weeks, hoping for some sort of catastrophe that will relieve me of this burden for a good long time. I know that everyone has gone through it, and for doing they are better people. I will survive somehow, but at this point in time, I do not quite know how.

It is constantly in the back of my mind, lurking there like the ghost of my past waiting to spring out an destroy everything that I have worked so hard to accomplish. The quicker that this month ends, the happier I will be. I know that I am going to have to stick this one out and that it will all be better once things settle down, but right now I am just not that into it.

My life is in the downer faze, my only reconciliation is that this weekend was a weekend, not a pseudo-weekend filled with false pretenses.

As they say in Latin, carpe diem.

Primative

2008-05-04T21:25:00.000-07:00

Yesterday's goals,
dim memories.
Dark saddened eyes,
blurring with tears.
Painful scars borne;
Love's history.
Futures crumble
when doubt appears.
No brightly lit hope envisioned,
When following after harsh words.
Hurt soul splits in twain, partitioned.
Swooned by appeal - when numbness lured.

Apologies made, never bought.
Price paid turned out far too costly.
Though never known what would be wrought -
Must walk into the night softly.

One wish, only to be released.
Granted - now receive this token.
Words written in rhyme, love's deceased.
When promises made . . . were broken.

At Second Glance

2008-05-03T19:04:00.000-07:00

These days, people do not care about the world around them. Nobody takes the time to just sit back and appreciate the things that are around them. No longer do people care about water flowing out of a beautiful fountain or the wonderful pieces of architecture dotting your locale main street. People are so caught up in the hustle and bustle of everyday life that they forget that there are things around them that took time and effort to create. There is no appreciation anymore for the wonders of humanity.

When the Empire State Building was first built, people marveled at the sheer greatness of humanity that was put into that building. Now, it's just an artifact of what used to be the tallest building in the world. Even some of the most beautiful pieces of architecture are thrust into the background of everyday living. Not one person truly stops to marvel at the truly amazing buildings that dot the cities of America. The things that are on people's minds are work and pleasure, with no space left for appreciation of beauty. This needs to change or eventually these buildings and creations of man's genius will be forgotten, reminiscent of an era when people gave a damn what their city looked like.

Is it so difficult to just stop and marvel in man's acheivements? Why can a person work twelve hour days, even on Saturday, but not find the time to just stop and appreciate? People need to change for their own good. Man needs to be taken down a notch; the god-like businessmen and women need to have something that is greater than even them.

Man is supposed to feel inferior, or else people come into power who have nothing left to fear. This lack of fear is what breeds dictators and serial killers. When you no longer feel that there is something out there greater than you, you lose sight of he common good. You lose sight of the true beauty of humanity and its wonders.

A building may be just a building, a fountain just a fountain, but not if you do not want it to be. The mind perceives what you want it to, so give it something nice. You will be a happier person and you will begin to appreciate just living.

As Randolph Bourne said, "Few people even scratch the surface, much less exhaust the contemplation of their own experience."

Whispers In The Wind

2008-05-02T18:54:00.001-07:00

Drifting eyes they met
Anticipation lingers
Walk with me tonight

Destruction lives on
Charred leaves mouldering ashes
The end of times

Perfection in white
Defeated in black

Repent now my girl
Feel what you once felt
Be me
Don't leave me to die

Soft

2008-05-02T15:58:00.000-07:00

today i turn my blood to sweetest wine

a holy sign imbued with the divine

today's the day the gods walk out on me

the great divide is crossed for you by me

We watch the dance of death

Through an open window

A shattered voice calls out

Above the whine of a siren

My heart is a machine gun

Shooting over your head

Piercing the night sky

The stars come out like tear drops

From the oceans of your eyes

Beklosopy

2008-05-01T19:25:00.000-07:00

1. Mistakes are great, they humble you. They make you a better person.
2. Being a failure for a lifetime is being a failure.
Being a failure and learning from that failure is being human.
3. There are successes in life and then there are failures. You take them cum grano salis.

As I sit here reflecting upon the night's events, I come to wonder about the breakdown of the moral fiber of just about every person that I know. What is it that causes such a compete change in character in so many of these good people? Why the sudden urge to throw caution to the wind and give into moral repreeve?

These questions came up tonight as I sat in a living room, listening to my mood being played upon the keyboard beside me. I realise morality is ever dwindling, decreasing as the stereotypes are played out before me. Ways of life are replaced by an edgier notion, one who has no morale fiber left intact.

"Why has this change occurred?" One might ask. The answer is I really do not know. Obviously, this is a select group of people who see it fit to partake in various acts of debauchery and youthen desire.

Aristotle once said that, "Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow ripening fruit." It seems, though, that this fruit has begun to rot.

Humility With Grace

2008-04-30T17:13:00.000-07:00

Human emotion is a powerful thing, something that should not be taken lightly.

The spectrum of these emotions are all-encompassing, truly suited to every aspect of life from birth to death. The actions made upon these emotions can be well calculated and thought out, but then there are the rash decisions made in the heat of an upsurge of emotion.

In my short life, I have not truly experienced the extremity or power of nearly all emotions because the need for some has not yet arisen. I am still out to experience the world and that is something that I intend to do. To truly fulfill one's life, I feel that one must explore the greatest emotional possibilities, always pushing the boundary to try and experience the next feeling. We are given our humanity through these emotions, so it is necessary to use them to the greatest extent.

The ability to feel love and hate and anger and fear is what separates us from the rest of the creatures on this planet. I love just living and feeling. I love the way music can make an individual feel such a wide range of emotions that is completely different from everyone else who happens to hear that same piece. I love how someone can read a piece of literature and take something out of it that nobody else will. I love the way that you can feel around one person and will never feel that same way about another in the scope of your entire life.

This is the true diversity of humanity. It does not stem from race or gender, but from the emotions that we feel throughout everyday life. We are separate in our feelings, but connected through the fact that we all inevitably feel them in every situation. I am beginning to see the merit of these emotions when I had often cast them aside without giving them much thought.

In my advancing years I have become more introspective, constantly taking a look at how I feel about certain things and situations after I have experienced them. I do not know if it's age catching up with me or I am going soft, but I am beginning to want more out of life than the same thing everyday.

Change is a welcome occurrence. I need to get out and experience new things and new people. I need to experience a wider spectrum of humanity if I am to ever truly be able to live a complete life.

Time Stands Still

2008-04-29T16:12:00.000-07:00

today the silent one does have her say
today all contradictions seemed ok
today's the day that I become the sky
a silent understanding, oh my

You with the sad eyes,
Light brown flecked with orange,
That can penetrate you
Like a bullet straight to your heart.

You with the sad eyes,
In your heart
Are unspoken grievances and hurts,
That I can only guess but will never know.

But I cannot help you ease the pain,
If you refuse to let go of it.
I cannot help you mend your heart,
If you refuse to leave your wounds alone.

You with the sad eyes,
I do not understand
Why you keep picking at your scars,
Like a child constantly fingering
The scab on his knee.

Re-opening the wounds,
Letting the bad memories spurt forth
Like a nightmare rewinding itself
All over again.

You with the sad eyes,
Unable to let go completely,
Afraid to move on
And search once more,
For the emotions that you’ve long forgotten.

Shiver In My Spine

2008-04-28T17:23:00.000-07:00

Fear can be described in many ways, but as most dictionaries put it:
“a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid.”

Fear is one of the greatest tools known to mankind, but is mainly known on the basis of being a weapon. It’s a weapon that was never given an official name and isn’t official recognised as a weapon. But it is the psychological equivalent of an atom bomb, capable of destroying hundreds upon thousands of lives in the mere mutter of a couple of words.

Fear is the voice on the other end of the telephone, saying “I know where you live”, fear is the bump in the night that makes you wonder what it was, and fear is what keeps you from looking into the dark, to forever discover shelter in the light. Fear is instinctive, one of our most primal recognitions, it’s that alarm in your head saying ‘not to go there’, and it’s the pump the fuels adrenaline into your body, making your heart beat so loud it drowns out your thoughts. Fear varies, whether it be standing up in front of a crowd to give a speech, or fleeing from a knife wielding psychopath. It tells you to stay away; it does the handy work of the mind, being the minds manager making sure nothing harms it. So it gives you a feeling of apprehension, making you aware that you are in danger of coming to harm, it doesn’t matter whether it be mental or physical, and it will attempt to stop you.

Fear is so abundant, mankind has even categorized it, simplifying it down to ones most dreaded fear, varying to a fear of open spaces, known as Agoraphobia, to a fear of spiders, known as Arachnophobia. But what I ask is what the name for a fear of time is. The undying fear of what’s to come, the fear of what tomorrow shall bring.

For my fear lies here, I find myself up at the early hours of the morning , not going to bed to when ‘late’ becomes ‘early ‘, and night becomes day. For my fear is a subconscious fear, for how can one avoid time, numbers with meaning attached to them. But it’s better to say that I fear change, for one’s own world to warp beyond recognition. I did not learn this until recently.

For I wouldn’t be able to comprehend how my world would collapse in on itself and regrown as something else, all within a year.

Looking back I thought that 2007 would be a lucky year, a year I would never forget, and I was right about one thing at least. Within that year, I fell through a door that accelerated my artistic skills further ahead within less than three months, than I had ever improved with the previous decade. My ideal place of refuge was blown out the door, in the processes I lost memories that had multiplied and spawned as inanimate objects. My kingdom of refuge was torn away from my grasp, for I was never to set foot in it again. My fear began to multiply with the feeling of utter dread at the start of a new year, a new beginning, a new person . . .

A new Fear.

In All Of Us

2008-04-27T13:14:00.000-07:00

I am an artist – not because I dream of glory or fame – those mean nothing to me now.

I am an writer not because I wish to master language, though as writer that is important for me, but because once upon a thousand times, I fell in love. Since then my life has not been without words.

I am a musician because as a lady I have decided to strive for one thing – to be alive – to live a life that means something, and singing is a way to keep myself accountable – if I’m not living, I’m not creating.

If I can’t write music, it must be because I am not pursuing life passionately enough. Writing at this point in my life, is life, just as drawing or painting once was, and I hope is again one day. The only life worth living is a life worth writing about. If you wouldn’t want to read a book about your own life, I’d venture to say you’re dead already, and I’d put forth the question, what are you living for? Is this narcissistic? Maybe . . .

We live in a dead and dying world – we walk and talk and work with dead people – living dead lives. The only way one can truly write something that means something is to go to great lengths to either live, or great lengths to die. To be mediocre, is to be forgotten. To be mediocre, is to be no one. To be mediocre, is to be mere dust blowing in the wind, dirt between your toes, sand on a beach somewhere.

Thank you for raping me of everything I hold dear.

It's never your fault.

Another Mile

2008-04-26T16:05:00.000-07:00

My sister has always got on my case about referring to perfume, as perfume. She tells me it’s vulgar.

Get her!

Apparently, ladies who have been raised correctly call it scent. She knows I wasn’t raised correctly, she was there after all. I was dragged up by the lapels of my Woolworths strait jacket, and so was she.

I'd like more choices. Two aren't enough.

When I choose not to decide no one listens.

He had the road maps on his ass. I just didn't care to follow it. Now I don't know where I am, except that no one else is here. I shunned those little conformitys. And now I've been shunned by the bigger ones.

I think God sells lemonade on the side of the road, in wooden stands. Out of plastic pitchers like any child would. Broke and naive to the conditions of humanity. I think God is the big bad wolf in all those faerie tales where children get eaten. Let's cut his belly open - save them!

Save everyone!

From the paranoia - The hysteria of those that would try to control us.

I think love isn't that different. Serving best only those that would abuse it. Taking advantage of the rest.

I think I'm thirsty and I'll gladly buy any one's lemonade. Including Gods- if it could cure my thirst.

But I'm just silly like that, I need results.

Sleep Demon

2008-04-25T23:28:00.000-07:00

I sat down and had a good think about things and my emotions were ranging through every aspect of the spectrum. And without giving it much conscious attention, I walked over to the wall where my guitar was hanging and took it down.

It was dusty.

For some reason, this surprised me.

All the dust floated off when I started playing it so all was well and by the time I was ready to go to sleep I had a new song in the tank. I was rhyming words without thinking about it and, given the subject matter, it was my frustration with my situation that really brought my art back to the surface. I'm thankful for that.

Bear's Lunch

2008-04-24T21:06:00.000-07:00

That certain tightness, right there, right in the middle of your chest, you swear it's your heart clanging around, beating itself against your rib cage, which is reflexively trying to contain it. Makes it a little tough to breathe. I thought things were getting better, but it seems reality is making things worse. I thought the numbness was going before, but now I realise that was just the complete shock wearing off. Look at that landscape, the fog of denial gives way to the chasms of depression, the sky is gray and the ground is bare. Being objectively lost in the wilderness is fun.

love and hate

Two supposedly diametrically opposed concepts, so why then do I flip back and forth between the two. Each flip is like a strong electric current getting close enough to create a huge arcing spark.

Heavy Heart

2008-04-24T17:02:00.000-07:00

My heart feels like it wants to plunge through my diaphragm, slip down my left leg and rest by itself on the floor. It is literally tugging, pulling, downward. I keep having these thoughts. When I say keep I mean perpetually smashing themselves vigorously onto the inside of my mind not allowing me to think much else. The most insidious is that thought that somehow if I could put the parts back together everything would be alright.

Of course this is surrounded by techniques for getting this to happen. Even worse the brain decides to build a detailed story board of how the reunification will take place, and then how wonderful it will all be. This is obviously absurd fantasy and the rational mind screams all the while that this road is a dead end track with cliff of fatal proportions waiting at the end. It is only inevitable that you do eventually go sailing off this cliff back into the abyss of despair. I'm still working out how best to avoid this road, or at the very least conduct a u-turn. In the mean time writing it out in odd metaphors seems to at least have a short term positive effect.

Sweet Lemons

2008-04-23T22:27:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about dreams lately. I've always been a self-professed day dreamer. I much prefer to spend my time dreaming about all the wonderful things I could be doing than wallowing in the pit of remorseful regret that is so damned easy to fall into.

I've been in that pit many times in my life, but it's always so much more fun living in a land of dreamy dreams than it is facing the harsh reality of what your life is. So much more giddy excitement dancing with women you've never met than moping about all the dances you left by.

The problem I have come to realise with dreams is that they are malicious little bastards.

Looking back on my life now I wish I had come to this conclusion a year ago. It is all well and good having a dream, just as long as you never ever ever try to solidify this dream into reality. You may want something badly enough, you may desire to be somewhere with every beat of your heart, yearn to change the very essence of your being...whatever your fantasy, I've come to the conclusion that it is better to leave it as just that.

However hard you try; no matter how many sacrifices you make; regardless of how much work you do to get those dreams close enough to hug whilst copping a furtive bum squeeze - something will happen to stop it.

Triggers suck. That one little smell, word, object and situation that has you fighting your past with full on effort. There are days when my triggers seem to have very little power but then there are others where something that seems so insignificant on the surface brings flashbacks that leave marks on my soul.

Help me escape . . .

Perhaps

2008-04-22T17:34:00.000-07:00

The other morning an angry woman called me at 9:30am. What was she angry about? I had not returned her phone call the night before. Of course, there’s more to it than that. Essentially, her charge was that I rarely ever call, that she is the one constantly pursuing me, asking me out to dinner, inviting herself over for a drink.

I did not argue with her. I sat and listened. I figured if I tried to turn it into a dialogue then it would only get worse. She laid into me for about five minutes. I wanted to scream at her, “I’m obviously not as interested in you as you are in me. Do I need to sit you down and state this implicitly, or are you going to salvage some of your dignity and take the various hints?”

But I didn’t say that. I listened quietly.

“You are so selfish!” she shouted. “Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings besides your own?”

For some reason, this comment struck a chord. It doesn’t take a licensed clinical therapist to know that I am damaged goods, that once upon a time I was quite the romantic, a hard-loving optimist. And you don’t have to be Miss Cleo to see that a series of bad relationships has sucked the sensitivity out of me. So my position on love and sex now, as logical as it may be, is purely reactionary.

But selfish?

I have never wanted to believe that about myself. Perhaps my selfless ways only apply when it's in my benifit, or I deem someone worthy.

What Cycle?

2008-04-21T04:35:00.000-07:00

Dear Dr. Blogspot,

Sometimes I sit alone in the dark, feeling incredibly sorry for myself, crying, and listening to my own songs on repeat, all for no good reason. Is this normal?

Thanks,
Bexiness

ROSES AND PINK COFFINS

2008-04-20T23:25:00.000-07:00

Do you ever get spacey from sleep deprivation, shaky from over-caffeination, and shivery from the miserable weather, all while teetering on the brink of tears and destruction caused by listening to a song on repeat too many times?

It's when I feel the most like myself.

Addendum:
It's a quarter til midnight, and I just realized that I've been wearing my shirt inside out all day.

Yes, I've truly never felt more like me.

Today was the best day. I love jam sessions good friends great dro and lots of laughs. Thanks to all who make me smile in the midst of my mental turmoil. Without you, every song would be sad. x33333

Selfless Creation

2008-04-19T21:16:00.000-07:00

Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

Yesterday had been a bad and sad day. I fell terribly sick and the whole day was filled with senti and emo moments. It sounds tragic but with those tears that fell incessantly, I reinstated my belief that the world has always been unjust; the same goes to the people surrounding you. I am not skeptical but perhaps far too contemplative for my own good.

I asked myself many questions; silently, when I lay on my bed trying to fall asleep with a cold towel on my forehead. Am I being too sensitive and too ardent to ask for a little attention? Am I someone with a horrible attitude when displeasure masks my face? Do they sincerely care? Will I find the truth and sincerity behind those incessant affectionate phrases that were said to me every time?

Maybe I am too sensitive and far too contemplative for my own good. Their actions hurt. I’m hurting without them knowing. All I want is to know how significant I have been in that person’s life because I don’t know the core of my existence. I could be asking too much but somehow I find myself entitled to the truth that I yearn to know but it will sound horridly selfish when asked bluntly.

At this moment, I feel so bare with all my emotions dried up. I feel fictional and have nothing to offer anymore. I have always enjoyed the role of being a giver and not taker but I am so bare because everything has been taken yet I’m still to give all I can. I’m hurting, without that person knowing.

Sometimes, I feel like I am an object for temporal happiness. When my existence is felt and appreciated, I will be painted in the abstract art but the sad this is that the form of art that represents my being will be erased when my existence is not felt. Thus, began my journey of learning the nooks and crannies of living an artless life and how appreciate this new form.

I feel so disengaged but to whom does it matter?

Tiny-Chia

2008-04-18T18:38:00.000-07:00

I think that retrospection is very close friends with reason and rationalization, which is interesting considering that reason and rationalization seem to have a love-hate relationship with one another. Retrospection is like the glue holding the other two together while simultaneously being the wall that separates them and forces one to choose between one or the other. Rationalization is a bit of an ass. It likes to dress up in reason’s clothing and parade around as reason, making everyone think that it is something that it certainly is not. Reason, while being more honest and altogether better for you, doesn’t always taste as good as you wish it to taste.

Grass Is Brown

2008-04-17T21:43:00.000-07:00

Satisfaction is more of an ideal than a simple state of being. The more that I think about it, the more I wonder if perhaps never being truly satisfied is merely another ugly aspect of human nature that we all prefer to ignore. Or, maybe, is never being satisfied a good thing? Does it force us to strive for more, to always keep looking towards the sky? I suppose it’s a double edged sword, really. Our inherent lack of satisfaction coerces us to always search for something more, but it also has the capability to blind us to something wonderful that is standing right in our vicinity.

Perhaps I am looking too much into my own experience, but considering that my experience is the only way that I can perceive the world I suppose that I cannot be too far off from whatever the truth may be. While I wish that I could say that I find myself to be satisfied with all aspects of my life, I know that it is simply not the truth. I am constantly feeling as if something is missing, as if there is something more out there which I just haven’t managed to find for myself yet. I do not think that I am the only person that has this feeling lingering in his or her chest. I think that it is possible to be satisfied with certain part if your life (e.g. your relationships, your work, your schooling, et cetera), but will you, can you be satisfied with everything?

I would suppose that, if things go as planned, a point comes in one’s life where all of the important things (whatever one deems to be important, anyway) are working out well, they are all fulfilled and then all the little disappointments do not seem so upsetting. Maybe you have an excellent spouse and the family you’ve always wanted, or perhaps your career is excelling at such a fantastic rate that you cannot help but feel proud of yourself. Maybe you believe that you are on your way to living a full rich life and so everything else, all of the little annoyances that ate away at you before just… don’t matter.

Is that satisfaction? Being happy with everything else? Is it contentment? Are satisfaction and contentment essentially the same, just a different amount of syllables? Will I ever be satisfied? content? or will I always be looking for something different, always something better? I have yet to reach a point in my life where better meant nothing, did not exist, but I’m sure that it’s possible.

I just wonder if I will recognize satisfaction when it finally comes knocking on my door.

Unmapped Isle

2008-04-17T16:45:00.000-07:00

I feel confused and yet my mind is so clear.
I am neither happy nor sad, perhaps simply content.
I wonder where I am going, but my mind is preoccupied with where I have already been, especially lately. I have never really been one to dwell on the past, but as the nights come I find myself staring up at the ceiling and thinking about what once was. It’s unusual for me. Foreign, but not necessarily unwanted. I know that no amount of thought can ever change the past. Maybe… maybe I can learn something new by analyzing, remembering. But change? No. I cannot change what has already occured, I can only change how I perceive it.

I feel so different and yet so the same.
I haven’t changed, but I’m not me.
I’m me, but I’ve completely changed.
Trying to make sense really isn’t my forte, I suppose. My mind is everywhere and no where at the same time. I can’t even really explain how I feel; I do not know if I have actually ever felt like this before. I saw people today and I wasn’t needy for their attention. I did not care much one way or the other. They could choose to talk to me, they could choose not to talk. I find that the less I care, the more people seem to enjoy my company. Probably because I am calmer, more sane when I am not in a fit of worry? Can others feel that?

I floated today. Like a cloud. A lax, easy-going cloud with no feelings one direction or the other. And while there was a very real emptiness lingering in my chest, I realized that the emptiness was due to the fact that somewhere along the line, I have lost a part of myself. That missing piece isn’t someone else that I need to find, it’s me. I suppose that finding that piece of yourself that you lost is like trying to find mythical buried treasure. You don’t know what the treasure is, or if it is even worth the effort, but you know that you’ll feel unaccomplished if you don’t try to find it.

Maybe that is the reason that I have been looking so much into the past as of late? Maybe I’m just trying to retrace my steps, trying to remember when I lost that little piece of my heart.

_{Too bad I already know . . .}

Keeping Fish From Drowning

2008-04-16T15:53:00.000-07:00

I think that this story requires parental supervision
Can you give an autobiography a rating like a movie?
Why is it that we all seem so much more scandalous on screen?
When imagination is superfluous, do reservations prevail?

Here’s the thing, Love
You and I, we won’t make it
I can see you shaking that pretty head of yours
But I promised you from the beginning that I wasn’t going to lie

Our eyes are going to meet from across the room
We’ll look past the mutilated bodies and the mountains of cocaine
You’ll glance up and smile at me just after taking a particularly potent hit
I’ll wink at you just as your pulling the syringe out of your arm
No, no, not the arm
Tonight, it is the back of your knee
There are a lot of tracks that I’ll run in life
But some of them you were never meant to see

You are never going to tell me the truth
Not completely
You’re going to fill our bed with half truths and insecure doubts
Or maybe that was me
I’m going to tell you how beautiful you really are and
Dear God
You’re going to hate me for it
We all need something to hate

Pause

Do you need an intermission, Love?
Take a break, get some water to replace the tears that you’re sure to shed
Then again, maybe that was me, too

Rewind <<

Play >

We all need something to hate

Sometimes after we’re done fucking, I’m going to despise you
I’m going to hate the way you taste
No
I’m not
I am only going to hate how your words feel while nibbling on my earlobe
Their favorite meal is my ego, which they devour with infantile eagerness and desperate need
I won’t stop it, though
I’ll only glare at you, the taste of you still fresh on my tongue
When you say nothing, I’ll turn my back
Secretly hoping that you will place your calloused hand on my shoulder and say something
Anything
To combat the silence

But you won’t
Ever
And I will wallow in my own self-induced misery while maintaining the stubborn silence

Every night you’ll tell me that you love me
And I’ll believe you
I don’t know why

You’re like a god, high on your throne among mere mortals
I’ll turn my head toward you one day and I’ll swear for a second that your throne is made from the anxieties and fear that you elicit from me
But only for a second
When I come back to my senses, I’ll realise that your throne is made of nothing so abstract
(How could you sit on that, anyway?)
But rather something concrete like the ladies you got bored with before me

One more hit, one more bump
One more round of sex because, fuck, we’re such fantastic lovers
You'll enter me slowly and then tear me apart
You'll do to my cunt what you did to my heart
So ironic, ‘cause I’ll like it

You’ll run right, I’ll crawl left
You north, I south
I’ll lick my lips as I dream about you
But you’ll only see me when your vision is filled with a cloud of white

Are you still listening, Love?
Are you still lucid?
This story hasn’t ended yet
Grimm hasn’t collected the conclusion to this tale
You know what really happened to the Little Mermaid?
She drowned

Baby, I love to swim

For a while, I will hold the belief that I will save you
But by the end of our story I’ll realise that I was only saving fish from drowning.

An Ode

2008-04-15T19:28:00.000-07:00

If you could see the path in its entirety, if you knew the broken stones upon which you would stumble, if you felt the shade you rest under, if you sensed the dark promise at its end - would you still walk it? Would you still say yes?

I whispered in your ear last night; the words were intimate and animate portraits of my state of mind, a view through the looking glass; did you see much of yourself in me? Did you think my words might be your own but for the distance of souls?

She is - Liquid sorrow trickled on asphalt memories and shattered upon flawless dreams
She is - Stone cold steel, a hollow vessel filled with shades of shadow
She is - Wilted white roses on the peeling windowpane captured in elapsed time
She is - An elusive tangibility forlorn and forfeit, remorse in repose
She is - Soft shallow silences of letters never written and things best left unsaid.
And I can't even see but I can see you, I can't focus. Yet one glimpse of you captures all my senses. Remind me why we do this? Why I do this to myself every day? We wonder, I wonder . . . Senseless and numb. To never breathe with you would be such a terrible waste of what I thought was untainted perfectionism.

I Am ♫

2008-04-15T16:15:00.000-07:00

We write into the quiet, the great expanse of night, our fingers clacking on keys as we scratch out our thoughts and desires. We define ourselves in small quotable paragraphs, determined to prove ourselves in a form palatable yet sublime.

Exhibitionists, one and all, we are addicted to the art of exposure, bequeathed status in the the approval granted by the unseen horde, the eyes that watch our confessions, both titillating and mundane.

We are redeemed not by our actions but by our sentiments. We have been baptized in the font of ennui - enjoyed the soft possibilities of spring and endured the stark emptiness of winter. Our words are spun in spools of self, the act of creation becoming the art of re-imagining, re-defining, until we no longer write what we are, but are what we write.

Salvation In Starvation

2008-04-14T15:53:00.000-07:00

Just how hungry am I? You dare entertain yourself with forces whose worries and pleasure you can not, if even attempted, understand.

Hungry enough to strip you bare and then clothe you in the firm grip of hands that know the fine places to touch you, and then the finer places - the places that make you go weak in the knees while anticipation drives your pulse to race and your skin to tingle. Hungry enough to reveal you layer by layer - removing all pretension and lies until you are completely exposed and yet anonymous in the truth of who and what you are.

Naked, you feel everything. Covered in your lovely armour you feel only the hate and love that resonate between my words and the warmth of the light orange flashes send by me into your eyes. They do say, I am quite the surgeon when it comes to soul-deprivation, well this time I am to be likened only to a butcher.

Hungry enough, I find myself, to see just how far you’ll go to find the edge. To see your boundaries - to push you over with one shoving hand while keeping your head above water with the other. Drown you in heat while giving you breath in kisses that never quite end, but move one into another, on lips, neck, curves.

Hungry enough to whisper of things that you’ve often thought of but never let touch your lips. Letting my own self divulge the seemingly innocent myriad of love and affection. Hungry enough to make you speak words that burn when spoken but taste like sweet indulgence. I make you speak of dependence. Dont for a moment think that I have forgotten your past and mine. We are both machinist killers of the contemporary world, psychopaths and psychopants beyond the understanding of the world.

What exactly do you think binds up, the lust we asphyxiate into as love, or the blood we have shed.

Always remember, how and why we met.

Hungry enough to draw out each desire with fingertips that find the most sensitive locality, and just the right timing - just behind your knees, the small timid bulge of the back of your neck, the side of your neck; fingertips that write naughty poetry on your thighs; fingertips that speak in a language you have to lose yourself in to understand.

Hungry enough to trap you. Havent I already done so with poetic injustice? Have you ever been caught in a gaze that knows you better then you know yourself?

Knows which way you’re going to run? Knows where you are most vulnerable? Knows how to go for your throat - and wants you to know she can. And she waits, until the tension is sharp enough that the delicate coiled heat inside of you can be set off with just one touch, one word.

Hungry enough to teach you what it means to be so bad that it feels good - and reminds you that you are, indeed, *alive*.

How hungry are you?

No Mistakes

2008-04-13T17:05:00.000-07:00

In my position, I must always be one step ahead of the game. When playing, it doesn’t matter what side of the board each piece is on; what is important is knowing what is possible with each piece in play. Where each move can lead. Grasp this, and it doesn’t matter if you control the board - you can make sure the end game is in your favor.

The truth of the matter is that recently, to keep both the queen and the king on the board, I have been playing a more passive role then I am used to; waiting to see where each move will lead.

Generally, playing passively will not, ultimately, win the match. But there are times where it is more valuable to bide one’s time so that a piece can be subjugated and made captive. Do you see the hidden lines, the invisible net on the board? Do you fall into the carefully laid trap or take the safer path?

The safer path is to stop reading now.

The safer path is to not let fear and desire find their way any deeper; they are dangerous, and together they can rip you apart.

The safer path does not go through dark woods; it does not remind you of your hunger to be consumed.

The safer path does not lead you into places too dark to see your own hands, where the hands that are needed to keep you from the sins in the shadows may feed you to them instead. In the darkness, there is no place to hide. Here, you are given the freedom to indulge without being judged.

The safer path is to not respond to this, to forget you read it, to go on with your life.

The safer path for you is to walk away.

No Words Spoken

2008-04-13T14:56:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I forget.

I forget how it is to want something.

I forget what it is I want.

It is impossible to stop human nature. People change. Feelings change. Thoughts change.

But it is possible to pervert human nature. To adjust its course. To put up a dam or two and watch how thoughts and actions alter course.

Sometimes you can stand in the river, an obstacle yourself, and despite the current, stand utterly still.

And wait

_{(Sometimes I forget how beautiful you are. There are nights that I fall asleep and I want to feel your warm bare body curled into mine.

Sometimes I forget that smile, when you let yourself love me more then you should. That slightly mischevious look over candles, or dinner, or just talking.

Sometimes, it is even enough.)}

False Pretences

2008-04-13T12:53:00.000-07:00

Of the two, seed and egg, I would rather the egg.

The planting of a seed within the mind will quickly lead
To roots that bury deep
In memories
Bear fruits of new quandaries
And other plausible metaphors

But an egg will hatch a serpentine, sensual succubus
Insidious in form
That will slither, slip, silent
Never content to rest
Rummaging through forgotten questions
And astounding observations
Down the spine
Taking shivering form
Ceaselessly hungry
Within the belly
Carelessly pressing
In knocking lose old morality
Cautiously expiring
Only when still

Of the two, sturdy tree and ghostly conniver, I’d rather the one that admits no false stability.

Shades of Sage

2008-04-12T21:42:00.000-07:00

What goes around, comes around.

I am deluded by a pond . . .
I watched it almost sardonically -
Anticipating the return of the lost ripple in the waters waves.

Can one see the folly of inconsistency?
And if it is identified, is it a correlative to its former process,
Or is it a derivative to a new phenomenon?

Oh weeping hell, oh sacred dirt where’s the diligence?

I watched my reflection drown, it muttered to me prior to its demise . . .
Why does a source seek its reflection to identify what it is?
It’s like essence finding salvation in its destruction

The scientists squabble so putridly contemplating and contriving directions and motives the cause of winds, the purpose of light . . .

What of evil or beauty?

Is it that brutal and mundane, simplistic symmetry, grotesque repetition?

This fungus just desecrates, it knows of no end, it feels only its own process

My pond is empty and I seek no consumption . . .

Nature Of The Beast

2008-04-11T18:56:00.000-07:00

My sweet simple hunger, cutting inward with desperate heat to the heart. I seldom know the truth in fingers where hands might take the place of words but I can’t quite figure the path from here to there and there to wherever it is I think I desire to go. But hey - why let something so simple as not understanding, not knowing, not existing in any real fashion stop me from doing precisely whatever it is I that I want.

I want people to read my words on my lips. I want my thoughts to be painted on my skin, so you can know just how good I am with them. My words are like blades, like tempo setting drums that can pace you to the end in a soft tempor of sweet lingering pain. I want people to know that I know- I know. Yet I don’t think you know what I can do with my lips.

Maybe I just need to tie you up, wrap my fingers around your wrists and throat like a reminder, a warm steady reminder of how it feels to be secure in a way that money, love and even friends can’t give you. I strip you bare of your everything; every face you wear during the day comes off with the snap of my fingers or the whisper of my name for you. Our secret language shared in a look when I have you completely exposed.

This is the moment of surrender, of complete replacement of all those things that hold you back. I tie you up to free you from your inhibitions. I hold you down that you finally struggle for life. I rip you open so that you can feel all the way to your core what it is to breath in synchronicity and breath out the remainder of your self in perfect rhythm to my fingers. I pretend to know you. But all those secrets I know about you I learned from myself.

I touch you like I want to be touched; I push you where I want to go.

2:22 Book Of The Beast

2008-04-11T14:10:00.000-07:00

How does one wake up a beast?

You approach, careful to stay far enough away that it cannot snap at your heels. It knows you are there - it has your scent and the length of your words to tell it where you are - but you are too far away to be more tempting than merely in it's dreams, and so it sleeps and dreams away in the lazed bestiality that is it's mind where it chases clever vermin and sleeps under a moon large enough to shelter a growing hunger, and in the sleep of the beast it dreams an older dream, one without moonlight or victims, or anything at all, really, except for those things which are best kept away from judging eyes.

But this isn't about that dream.

This is about the beast, the fear keeps you from coming any closer, and the curiosity that ensures you do.

Wake me up at 2:22 P.M.

I wont bite.

Not somewhere where it wont hurt.

What do you fear more?

Being bitten, or being bitten and it not hurting?

Half Past Moon

2008-04-10T11:54:00.000-07:00

A lie I carved out of words, and never blinked, not even once.

Even when what I forced out of you was the teary truth of your past, I almost laughed out my rage when you once broke my heart, and then, as I laid my hand on your shoulder, just before I walked away, I knew that I shall be remembered for ever, for pain is not easily forgotten, and a heartbreak is never forgotten.

I told you to have your beliefs close to your lips, for one day the darkness shall come, I never told you I would be it. I prepared you in the fires of lust and passion, the hazing mist of your eyes has given me much pleasure, only to disappoint me. You have disappointed me.

Feeling the return of my power, I have sensed my realm has returned. I have returned, to crush you and your words with my hand and light. The foundation of my being had just crumbled yet you could have buried me, but your inherent flaw showed, you showed your mercy. My battle has be long and weary, yet all it took was nothing, in its exactness - it took emptiness. I revel in the victory, and my return to the throne . . .

We treasure that which hurts us most

Greater the sacrifice

Better learnt the lesson

Deeper the gashing wound

Darker our desire to take the hand that wields the knife

Renascent Awareness

2008-04-09T18:32:00.000-07:00

Transcending the baseness of our physical beings, the moment spoke to the prurience of our minds. The softness of your lips is disparate with the decadence of my nature, but instead belies the implicit curiosity of yours. You elicit an unlikely candor from me with your gentle mouth; your bottomless eyes cause me to question the methods I have always embraced. Leading us away from the mundane and toward the incomparable sensation of deep understanding, you eclipse my reservations with your sweet syllogism.

Thank you kindly.

Soft sunlight shakes the sleep from my eyes

Life sighed upon me when I said goodbye

The earth stalled in its orbit just for me

A universe in sync with the perfect breeze

A flare of passion that died a violent death

Is now reborn an aching tenderness

An ember glow in the dark night

Rocks me gently, softly, with all it's might. . .

Bringing Death Back To Life

2008-04-09T12:52:00.000-07:00

Poor little ghost boy
It could've been a dream
Pray for the setting sun
of all these things we've seen

And I will run you far
and we can wash away
Oh the things they did to you . .
Yesterday

Nearly home
Nearly home
Another mile
Another mile
One foot in front of the other foot

Poor little ghost boy
A gift to you, my heart
We'll find a little ghost girl
they dreamt in the far

and this time little children
will sweetly play their games
Without a force to be done
grown up counting games

Nearly home
Nearly home
Another mile
Another mile
One foot in front of the other foot.

Where'd you go?
Where'd he go?
I don't know
Why?

Just a while..

Poor little ghost boy
swallowed since by sin
To reach into the lovely new sky
From bruised and bloodied scenes

To drift down as a feather
and settle down by the stream
We will find the waterfall
To dream, dream, dream...

Nearly home
Nearly home
Another mile
Another mile
One foot in front of the other foot.

Cant it stop?
Watch the moon
our whole lives

I feel crossed
and so lost . . .

Is This Remorse?

2008-04-08T20:14:00.000-07:00

I find myself on the threshold of being alone again, without the warmth I have grown used to, yet unencumbered by the onus of another’s emotions which has heretofore bound me in a torpid lull. All things that flare with passionate light must in turn fade; it is fallacy to fight the progression. Without your arms to hold me, without this crutch I have leaned upon for far too long, I stand unattached but not lonely, for what I have always relied upon, above all other things, has been myself. Solitarily, but with solidarity of purpose and volition, I go on.

Yet I can't help but to think that the moments of my youth have been replaced by the hours of maturity; I can feel the days slipping, converging on the years of aged aeons, pressing on headlong toward the decades of amenable existence.

The callow caprices of old fade unto cold rationality, and take with them the eyes of inexperience which saw only in shades of black and white, but viewed the world without reservation, without stipulation, and were not afraid to believe consummately or to act with conviction.

Today’s eyes are shaded by the inconsiderable daily details of life: we don’t have time to think in these old terms of black and white because gray abstracts and facts and figures obscure so may of our ideals.

I am convinced, this what they (you) want.

Here I will stay forever traveling through cryptic channels and electric wires of my mind, an image of starlight mingling with moonlight; the village of insane lies is risen once again. The truth and fiction melt together in a swirl of blurred delineations and muddy gray areas. Reality is lost to me forever, so I join them, the masked figures who dance in the park at a quarter to midnight. They are the Introspectres, the bringers of daydreams and the steganographic truths. Day by day they tell us who we are, but we do not listen. We choose instead to sit jaded and satiated at the feast of universal anonymity and drink from the cup of disbelief.

Seek To Define

2008-04-07T20:28:00.000-07:00

There exist so many different layers - whatever is immediately within the reach of focus becomes the focus. All points are relative to this focus; while the periphery is a wash of color and life, the reality of the moment is at the core, the center, the focus. Sarcasm. Sincerity. Truth or anti-truth in any form become confused in the verbal sense because all things are true, false, honest or unjustified relative to the focus. Anything is possible. Everything is real. You can never deceive a focused mind, for it will always and for eternity simply BE. Focus on the reality of the moment; to request any more is to ask too much. Diversifying the focus is such a lofty cause, and to what end? What purpose have we served in muddying the details with generalization and confusing the reality of the moment with ideas like "eternity"? Who needs "Forever" when there exists a "Right Now" within which all things are feasible? Who needs "Forever" when the space of one moment could conceivably define a lifetime? Lofty ideas can finally sleep because now, right now, we've got some real concerns to attend to, mainly consisting of life and the subsequent living of such. Real answers, the practical applications to all this spiritual, intellectual strife that I'm forever swimming in when I put the pen to the page, are right around the corner.

Seek to define -

What is the gimmick?

(It's all a matter of focus.)

If you cannot define a moment with words, what is lacking?

The moment?

Or the words?

An End To No Means

2008-04-06T21:04:00.000-07:00

As I watch the mice try to find the cheese at the end of the maze, I can't help but to laugh; I see them all scurry aimlessly from a vantage point somewhere above it all. I have missed the drama of our collective youths, it seems, but only for the plebeian amusement it provides me to watch it all go by.

Realise that these things do not revolve around you - I take no satisfaction in your discomfiture. Truth be told, I don't even really care. It is only now that your reaction is of any consequence, only now that I can watch you dart about within the labyrinth of your own device and never, ever reach the prize.

If you had ever bothered to exhibit even the cheapest modicum of civility, perhaps I would have done the same, told you a bit of what you wanted to hear and eased your mind with the gossamer wisps of kind words. It is likely the skeletons could have remained interred, never to see the light of day or reach the narrow gaze of ignorant eyes.

But no, this was not to be.

If purple sunsets are to be followed by night skies, I can do nothing other than resign myself to this period of darkness. I know that the dawn will emerge; in time I will be bathed in the warm sunlight again. If there is an imminent end, it is a necessary progression; all that lives must die, all that exists must cease, if only to be reborn again. And when you left, I did not follow.

If you feel that I have wronged you, I will not plead my case. If you believe what you have inferred from casual statements and ill-conceived words above all of what you know about me, I have no defense. If this is what you wish - this misgiving, this misunderstanding - you may have it. And when you left, I did not follow.

If you love an external ideal that cannot possibly exist, instead of the star that you are, and have always been, I do not feel compelled to apologize. If you allow a single event, either real or perceived, to shake your confidence, or breed diffidence within you, I cannot be held culpable. If you find that you have given me too much power over you, power that I do not deserve or desire, please take it back. And when you left, I did not follow.

Lush The Crush

2008-04-05T20:05:00.000-07:00

The arms of my favorite vice envelop me like a familiar lover, comforting me through the darkest hours of every season. I need it like I need nothing else on this earth. I need it because it is the only thing I have ever really wanted. I need it because to want, to need, is as close to humanity as I dare to get.

This aspiration, this most implacable intemperance, drives me ever onward toward the gentle embrace of my fixation. I find myself conquered again and again by my ignoble proclivities.

I am that which I desire; by becoming this, I cease to be all other things. This is the annihilation of self through the intensification of the ego. My unquenchable thirsts are as a mantra - built up only to be torn down. That being said . . .

The darkness begins to lose its battle with the daytime

The dawn creeps stealthily in through the gaps in the curtains

Undeterred by the growing light, we continue

Fighting the realization that this night will soon come to an end

Taking with it the pleasure of the clandestine darkness

And replacing it with the cold clarity of the day

In which we cannot hide, cannot help but to be laid bare

All of our flaws in perfect palpability

Fighting our carefully constructed dusk illusions

And the phantasmagorias of our twilight artifice

Primal Desires

2008-04-05T16:15:00.000-07:00

We crave food because we need it to sustain ourselves, to fuel our bodies. Food tastes good because if it did not, we would not eat and we would not survive.

We crave sex because we have a biological imperative to procreate. Sex feels good because if it did not, we would not reproduce and we would not survive.

But why does being bad feel so damn good? Why the thrill of going against convention, breaking the rules, or just doing something that is society says is wrong? Why is being wicked so deliciously exciting?

What’s the biological reason for that?

Regret Can't Change

2008-04-04T17:15:00.000-07:00

You transcend all the superficiality of my predisposed boundaries, binding spells with your words. You strip from me my apprehension; you tell me I am too good for it, and that I will no longer have it to hide behind it in your company. You need not ever ask why I feel as I do. I have never met someone with whom I can trade places so thoroughly. I have never felt so connected and yet detached from myself.

You tell me, "Deepest sadness, but I’ve pled my case; I do not know what more to say, as I feel there are no words left unspoken. If I can not give you all that you need, then take it, run with it, and revel in it. This life is meant for pleasure, not for pain, we were born for luxury, not for heartbreak."

Trust, the most illusory of conditions, is rained upon by the blows of a violation, left reeling, unglued, unscrewed and unable to rebound. It isn’t what was revealed (for I am not ashamed of either my words or my actions) but that it was revealed before its time . . .

You must now live with this revelation.
I must now live without my words.

Self Expansion

2008-04-03T19:58:00.000-07:00

The moment hits and I descend into the far reaches of rain-soaked deserts and tropical tundras of perplexity and color. I'm like a rock in a pond; consciousness and reality and coherence come and go like ripples of icy-cool water. Free of all encumbrances native to life, religion and politics, I dive down into the liquid emotion and find it is a long while before I must resurface for a breath.

I speak to the lights and the darkness the with the quietly cacophonous voice of existence beyond death. I dance with the denizens of my own private forest, who fill my as yet empty cup with premonitions of a history I've never studied. I float on like a mesmeric, majestic dragon and breath the fire of omni-sentient butterflies. Rainbows appear in a field of green grass, leading nowhere and everywhere at once. Halos of sunshine surround like an aura, illuminating all I have ever wondered or even thought to wonder. Cloud whispers dance seductively with my psyche. Wisdom hangs on the air like so much smoke.

I do not fear death, only a return from whence I came. Everyone and every thing is indubitably, unimpeachably, infinitely real in my sphere. Knowledge is ripe for the picking, shiny and red or green or gold, or black as the night, blue as the sea, or purple as the sunset. In the house with open windows and unlocked doors, I discovered the future and the past as one . . .

Perception Of A Broken Heart

2008-04-02T15:51:00.000-07:00

Never say I don't need you, or that your presence here was inconsequential. I am not deliberately harsh; however harshly deliberate I may be. If I am as the lightning bolt, then those about whom I care the most are as the pile of rubble I have made . . . but only momentarily, as their destiny is so much more than that. I am merely here to hold up a mirror, I am an instrument, an incentive, a way of catalyzing a change which is so direly needed. Further explanation is unnecessary, even presumptuous . . .

But know only this - this is the one thing I do without ego. You merit all due credit for crystallizing this notion and bringing it to light from out of the murkiest depths of my subconscious.

I finally understand what it is that I wanted from you . . . what I wanted is just to want, as it made me feel alive, just a little less jaded, just a little less indifferent. For so long I have strived to command such a consummate control over my life, only to find out that it’s boring me. And yet, even in my recognition, I endeavor to control this, too.

Restless, never satisfied, I either want it all or nothing. I ruin nothing by turning it into something, and turn all into none on a transient whim. Realisation does nothing to alleviate this inescapable cycle, this inevitable pattern. It still thrills me to get what I never wished to have.

For this, and all other reasons, I love you always . . .