| (no subject) |
[Sunday, 15th November 2009|22:29] |
' Whoa. '
That was all Marlon would say as he ran thick fingers through Ling's hair, feathers dropping out in their wake.
Ling winced.
' ... yeah. '
' Dude. At least you have an excuse for hair dropping out. Moulting though... '
Marlon sounded as if he was on the verge of laughter.
' Tsk. ' it was all Ling would say before pushing the hand away, pale face flushing slightly.
' It's a season thing? '
' Mm. You're taking this rather well, aren't you? '
The mohawk'd man spread his big hands out, shrugging his shoulders.
' After the past few days. '
Ling paused. True.
Feathers in his hair paled to what had happened the last few days.
' Why can I see it now, though? '
' I can probably come up with a whole theory about spiritual energies and such... '
' Save it. '
The bruised, battered man smiled oddly, and wrapped one arm around Ling's waist.
Another pause.
They were out in the streets, walking with people to see them. Of course, some people guessed and talked but Marlon -
Ling glanced at the other.
' Hmm? '
Maybe it was just a momentary psychosis.
But really, Ling did not mind. No, he did not mind - not at all. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sunday, 15th November 2009|02:17] |
Desecrated arm with flesh wounds and tattered clothes
Were once covered in tumeric and sparkling gold
Lying awake through the night, saddened and cold
Nightmares churning with the stories untold
No where to go, No one to see,
Is this a mystery or a misery?
Thoughts unfurling as you see her on the road
Arms filled with a waning child and a barss bowl
Clinging on with legs weakened by hunger of a four year old
A sight so mind numbing it bores holes deep down in the soul
No where to go, No one to see,
Is this a mystery or a misery?
So much could become of her tainted beauty
Such potential could be found in the cubicle next to me
Torn and broken down by circumstances' charity
Yet mourning out loud is only used as a means for a meager livelihood
No where to go, No one to see,
Is this a mystery or a misery?
I praise you, O women of infinite strength
A smile still seeps through each painful moment
Testing me with the courage to have the same sentiment
Cherishing each and every gift God sent.
No where to go, No one to see
Your life is an inspirational masterpiece. |
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| aitnemeD |
[Saturday, 14th November 2009|13:26] |
Last night I dreamt I killed you.
(I feel constricted, my voice
wavers.)
The knife was heavy, tons of tons of tons,
so I couldn't help but let it go
into you. I only had the strength
to pull it out three times.
Your heart was out,
and now it's all mine.
When I was dreaming,
my weight was pulled to you.
In death
you still pull me to you
as my earth.
(I am the moon, with shallow
craters, with big scars.)
In my dream,
the air whooshed past me as I fell
to your chest.
Grief crushed me down.
It was like cement
and it jarred me awake to
a shivering, lonely self.
I woke up whiplashed,
and saw my heart
in my hands, but I knew-
I knew, I knew, I knew.
I didn't do it, you did.
You you you.
I didn't kill you because
you killed me first. |
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| Shame. |
[Saturday, 14th November 2009|04:28] |
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I don't want to look at you. |
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| (no subject) |
[Saturday, 14th November 2009|09:39] |
The depths of the dark disclosed concealment
Reveals no hidden message
I’ve explored part of my life expectancy seemingly discontented
Striving the inner person’s freedom protected by an outer shell
A soul with fire energy everlasting
Passionate, predominant and precautious
A sense of charm with confidence and respectability
Working hard, not subjected to the majority that deform
I consider myself a part of the lifecycle
Continuous
Changing
Inexorable like toxic liquor
Pretentious with youth
Presumptuous with age
Fickle, fraudulent losing their identity to conform
Important is nature and creatures that live
The human existence deprecates the simple life
Possessions and money are valued with awe
People succumb to the prospects of gluttonous wealth
Choices are there to help us accomplish happiness
What is contentment when we fail to meet our expectations?
Obstructions protect the prospects of superfluous interest entering the heart
Uncertainties of people proving true
Lies the most painful
Sex outside monogamous relationship crude
Take the knife and run it through your broken heart
Love will never feel valid now the bond of trust is violated
Is forgiving necessary to those patterns of deceit?
How is the future going to help the present?
Expected to have plans for an outcome unknown
Living day by day considered reckless behaviour
There is a growing need for securing yourself as you age
All this pressure leaves little time to enjoy the full prospects of life
Provoking worries stress
Leading to breakdowns and suicidal thoughts
As a human are we too introspective with ourselves?
Are we frivolous or too serious? |
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| Living |
[Saturday, 14th November 2009|09:27] |
| [ | mood |
| |  blah | ] |
Darkness obscures vision
Trapped in idealism
Nature escapism
A cruel world rots
Perfectionism denied
Think or live
Die naturally or commit suicide
Hold onto hope for happiness
Accept the blunt reality
Enjoy what you have got
Forget existence
Consumed in misery that time was
Is the correct choice chosen carefully?
Are we left feeling blue?
Wasting life with emotion
Sticking to our loss like glue
No way to have everything we want
Lessons teach us
How to be a decent species
It is not a necessity but a must |
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| falling for a stranger |
[Saturday, 14th November 2009|03:13] |
How could you have so much power over me?
You, who I barely know.
Your almost a stranger, and yet you possess my entire being.
It seems Ive sought your soul
for centuries.
My heart searching for yours.
My pieces looking for (yearning for) your pieces
so that my heart could be whole.
How many others
had I tried to force in that place?
Others that would never fit quite right.
And here you come along
and fill the void so completely
each crevice of your heart matching the
jagged edges of my own
lock in place so perfectly
that I can hardly remember
how emptiness feels.
Alchemists have this notion
of the existence of something
they refer to as a perpetual flame
and that is my infatuation.
That is how the alarming sense of urgency
to soak all of you in, feels.
That flame.
Ever burning and ever bright.
And the mere thought of that feeling is scandalous.
Almost an entire recipe for disaster.
That I could invest so much curiosity and emotion
into someone
I know nothing about.
I must harbor, somewhere within me, a secret desire
for devastation.
Since there is no earthly way possible
we could ever be as one.
So heavens, tell me why
our paths have crossed in such vague and un-connecting ways.
Yet you always know what I'm feeling.
You know exactly who I am, the real me inside
though I am at best an acquaintance..
Am I that delusional, that foolish
that a strangers words could entrap me?
That a strangers words
could awaken foreign and intriguing
pleasures that I have never before
had the courage to claim.
What a novice I am to your peculiar brand of charm!
Perhaps its all in the mystery.
For I know I will never be a part of your world.
Just as you will never be a part of mine.
I will continue to dream of you, as the flawless phantom my imagination has deigned you.
after all the fantasy is always so much better than the reality.
and it's the fantasy that I would hate to lose. |
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| Pent Up. |
[Friday, 13th November 2009|22:16] |
| [ | mood |
| | blah | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Let's Break Up. | ] |
I believe I am making a mistake.
Alway, fruitlessly pursuing what isn't mine
I'm lying to myself.
Covering my eyes with his sappy lies.
He says to me, what he would say to any other girl;
What he dosen't know is that
his words mean more to me than any other girl he could say them to.
But he wouldn't know this.
And what he dosen't know
Can only hurt me.
I can't tell him it hurts
I refrain myself from telling him
I'm hurt.
Because it's alright
If I'm the only one that cries when he ignores me.
Or if I'm the only one that can't sleep
Because my mind is filled with the insomnia
Of images of him.
It's alright if I'm the only one that feels
Like throwing up when I see him holding hands
with some other girl.
I'll be okay, so long as he never knows.
And never cares,
about how much I suffer because of how I feel for him.
I'm satisfied just knowing
That I can suffer alone.
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| (no subject) |
[Friday, 13th November 2009|18:36] |
| [ | music |
| | Auf Kurs - OOMPH! | ] |
Capture paradise,
I am gone
In the swelling of your spawn.
Singing anthems,
kiss goodbye,
hide the pain we have inside.
Catching whispers,
leave me be.
I hold lies I wish you could see.
Drag me down,
and watch me fall;
I'll ignore the final call.
Keep me tied,
and remember me,
for everything I wished to be. |
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| (no subject) |
[Friday, 13th November 2009|08:41] |
Just a heads-up. If you were one of the people in this entry and haven't responded or followed the directions, I'm sorry, but I'm going to block you. |
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| Sophia |
[Thursday, 12th November 2009|07:00] |
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| (no subject) |
[Friday, 13th November 2009|17:09] |
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My mind suffocates me. all the time. never knew things could be that wild till something within me controlled me. i knew that i am about to end the close-life and dealt with it. looks like i am that wrong. i went from good to bad and hopefully stays as it is. thought it was that good till everything seems to revenge back. know something will happened and it did.. so i turned my way to something random and unexpected. looks like i am that inane. after 2 years of getting rid of you, all i care is not to be in your arms anymore. and 3 years before of wanting the bad karma to hit me. i am regretting it. |
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| Then give me hell |
[Friday, 13th November 2009|05:54] |
| [ | |
| | home | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Sum of me: the away team | ] |
Heaven: A wonderful place of perfect bliss and unimaginable joy. A city often said to be paved with pure gold and filled with many mansions. A place that is believed to to redefine pleasure and supersede even the wildest imagination of the most unrealistic optimist. Often upheld to be the final reward for "good" works done on earth, heaven is believed to be attainable by different people and for very different reasons.
A certain group of people believe they will end up in heaven just by adhering to the laws of planet earth. They just live with not much of an opinion and try to stay out of the way. Another large group of people derive their doctrine from a very similar source. They believe in one supreme and superior God but have managed to create irreconcilable differences as to how exactly this God operates. All the groups, subgroups and sub-subgroups under the one God movement also believe they are going to heaven. Another group also derive their doctrines from similar sources and believe that noble and decent practices will place you on a superior level of consciousness of which after all has been said and done you will ultimately "return to the creator" (heaven).
Now is it just me or is it looking like there are going to be a whole lot of people in heaven. The question then becomes who exactly is not going to heaven ? Almost no one. The categories above almost cover every demographic therefore everyone on earth is simply going to pack up their bags and move to heaven someday. Will heaven not just become a replica of earth ?
It is either one group amongst the groups going to heaven is right or all the groups are simply wrong because the heaven i will want to end up in must hold non of the characteristics of this crazy world. If everyone on planet earth is actually moving to heaven at some point, if all the people dead in the past and going to die in the future are all going to the same place, If Malcolm X and Martin Luther King are heading to the the same destination as David Duke and Nathan Bedford Forrest, If Christopher Columbus and queen Anacaona currently dwell in the same place, If George Bush and Rush Limbaugh are heading to the same place as Osama Bin Laden and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad to recreate all this craziness ... if that place is called heaven ... Then just give me "hell" |
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| fault |
[Thursday, 12th November 2009|22:05] |
| [ | mood |
| |  confused | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Castle Down-Emilie Autumn | ] |
"it wasn't my fault" i whisper
as you pass me in the halls
ignoring my very words
last nights angry words still on my very skin
living there like a disease that can't be cured
and you turn around
and answer
"then you should have saved her"
when you break her down with your words of cruelties
and seduce her with the mirrors of lies
and what she did
wasn't my fault |
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| Love |
[Wednesday, 11th November 2009|22:11] |
I know i usually do slams, but this is not even really a poem its just something I wrote running off my mind.
Every once in a while people step up, they rise above themselves.
Sometimes they surprise you, and sometimes they fall short.
Life is funny sometimes, it can push pretty hard,
but if you look close enough you find hope in the words of children,
in the bars of a song and in the eyes of someone you love.
And if you're lucky, and if you're the luckiest person on this entire planet,
the person you love decides to love you back. |
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| life without you in it |
[Thursday, 12th November 2009|21:05] |
and we moved through youth together like tied in a 3 legged race. we went through all the stages of youth side by side, dipped in the world of perceptional fun and changings, but got to experience a deep pool of joy without it beforehand. We were on a spinning plate, viewing it all together, discussing it together. We stoles all the natural highs of youth from this earth and threw it out of balconies. i have never felt so high as i did when my time was spent with you. You gave me eyes and tools and then you left like huge plate tectonics crushing and crushing and crushing the world apart at such a high speed. I can barely find my shoes these days.
i want to vomit everywhere till nothing is of me and punch everything and hit myself like i used to when you would stop me and i want to crawl out of my skin, change my name, stop speaking english, and live like a third world native. no one is happy like this. i am dizzy. my eyes are dissinigrating. and no one hears me. i spend most of my time with ghosts. or talking to myself. i don't care if i have lost it. "It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society."
i am not moving enough and this world is collapsing around me and it will collapse before i can see it all and it will end before i can live as i would like to live and love as i would like to love.
we are destructive.
i am destroying,
and you are destroyed.
this is the world we live in, and i want to find another way.
everything gold is buried. everything i touch turns to stone.
and i just want to tell myself and everyone else to shut the fuck up most of the time.
question: Although I have my hesitations of academically molded writing, are there any books you have found helpful in improving your personal writings or to help you better express yourself? |
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| Living In A Man's World: The Bathroom Shower Timer |
[Thursday, 12th November 2009|20:55] |
Shower;
An enclosure in which a person stands under a spray of water to wash.
A time of privacy, where most people feel they have musical ability.
Monday through Friday, I wake up at 4:30 AM. I sit up, slap my alarm clock off, and then I take a minute to rub my eyes. I stretch, yawn, and then I get out of bed.
My eyes are still fuzzy, but I manage to reach the bathroom and hit the light switch. Squinting in the light, trying desperately to let my eyes adjust, I pull back the shower curtain. Ignoring the grit and grime from the men who have showered before me, I push the timer on the shower head, turn on the water, and get in.
I now have five and ONLY five minutes to wash and rinse off. In five minutes, the wonderful warm water will kick off, and I will have to get out.
Five minutes is NOT a long time.
Usually, on slow days, the water will kick off and I'll be caught with a head full of soap. I'll curse my father for being cheap, my family for being poor, and then I'll wait five minutes and then press the button again.
There are ways of beating the system. You can take the timer off with a pair of pliers, which I have been known to do, and then you can relax and enjoy the fantastic water for as long as your heart desires.
Hot water is a luxury, not just to men, but to women, too. It's something that, at least in my house, can't be wasted.
Still, there is nothing I hate more in this world than the timer on the bathroom shower.
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| Me Again |
[Thursday, 12th November 2009|08:53] |
At the enda Interview with Vampire, we find out this once wild vampire's alive. But he's a shella himself - scared and scarred.
Hold that thought.
Contrary to what most people think, the fast food fight isn't between McDonald's and Burger King. McDonalds has about 31,000 stores across the world but Subway will have more than 32,000 by the end of the year. Cause during this yeara horrible economic times, Subway profits grew by 17%.
It went from number whatever to number one cause it saw it's chances and took them.
And Wayne Gretzky said that, You miss 100% of the shots you don't take. It's all about seeing your chances and taking them.
There's been debate as to JFK's notion that the Chinese word for crisis is an amalgam of the characters danger and opportunity - but that doesn't make it less true a concept. Crisis's when y'can take your shots.
The breakup, the theft, the car accident, my grandmother leaving, and the cancer scare took their toll on me. Once told someone that as a lawyer, a fencer and a kickboxer, wasn't afraida nuthin. But the last three years, was scared and scarred. Of everything (cept maybe the girlies).
A body can only handle so many crises.
Three years's enough to not take my shots, to be onea those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.
After three years, a twelveth of my life, not only am I home again, feel like I'm me again.
Gonna be in DC over the weekend. Catch you next week.
Music: Please allow me to introduce myself
YASYCTAI: Take your shots. (0.5 secs/3 pts)
www.loganlo.com
 Subscribe!
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| (no subject) |
[Thursday, 12th November 2009|03:12] |
there is an acid in my intestine that feels like an ulcer and causes a stinging sensation in my ear
tomorrow i wil rest for many hours and try not think about what i'm doing
when rest is painful is it rest?
tell me doctor, who is my body? why does she betray me? why am i not her? why have i had such a time trying to identify with her? why is she more of a she than me just because of her sexual organs? why do those organs betray her (and me) by rebelling against their own futility caused by my choice not to utilitze them to their fullest or part potential? why do i watch those reality shows about rabbits disguised as humans? doctor, why are you calling my mom? we don't talk anymore without awkwardness. sometimes menopause and periods come up as conversational pieces because they're fifty percent universal. mom has great advice about lower back pain but doesn't know what i should do about the vomiting. try not eating, she thinks but does not say because it sounds too ridiculous and possibly dangerous. even though it's awkward when mom and i talk, it would still break her heart if i were to die before her. i hope that does not happen - for her sake. i still care about the sake of her. she is my mother. i've heard child birth is wretchedly painful. i enjoy life. it's kind of cool and miraculous. thanks, mom. oh yes, doctor, what does talking to myself indicate? am i healthy? i would like to go to an authentic country bar and sqaure dance with a bunch of people who don't care that i don't know how to square dance save the grape vine and think i'm cute. it can be sexy-cute or kid-cute; i just want to feel affection when i'm square dancing in an authentic square dancing bar for the first time. can this be arranged before i die, doctor? doctor, you went to school with my friend, bushra. that scares me. it makes me think that you're fallible and not celestial. i would like celestial intervention durring my departure also durring my stay. do i go through you to arrange this or are there other channels? doctor? why are you undressing me? why are you draping my skin accross the nightshade? what will your wife say? will your children understand why you spend more time with your hands inside other worlds than you do teaching them to play baseball noncompetitively? |
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| (no subject) |
[Wednesday, 11th November 2009|21:43] |
Take a breath, you can do this. It's about to start so pay attention now!
I swing around to face my opponent and the games begin.
His eyes are a pale blue and his skin just as pale. He twitches one eye and I smirk. But he only scowls and we continue on.
Seconds pass and before long I'm not sure if I can keep it up. It's a harsh sport and excruciatingly painful. I have to take careful breaths now if I want to stay in the game. My rival only grips the sides of the table till it looks like he has a bad case of constipation.
Oh no. My eyes water and I can see that he's about to give up as well. Just..a bit....longer! Just until he gives in.... It's not that much farther- I can see him weakening and desperately longing for relief. Then again so am I.
-COMEON JUST DO IT ALREADY SO I CAN-
Too late.
In a slow-motion like feel, I reluctantly gave in to my inner urgings and my eyelids closed with a echoing 'thud'. I blinked.
"YESSSS-!", he crowed, leaping and pumping his fists. Dammit.
I lost the stupid staring contest. |
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tired
refreshed