Did you ever just feel like crap because... It is like beating yourself up or beating your head against the wall and not even making a dent in your head. It is not that I can't change certain aspects of the way I think because I can as it has been done before: it is called adjustment. Usually, if something causes me pain, I put it to the back of my mind and keep it there for future reference. You would think that I would want to get rid of it. Nah. Some pains are not worth parting with.
This feeling of pain has been buried before yet it always rises to the surface with or without my doing. That is what I find fascinating about memory. I can remove all or most of what is associated to the cause of my self-created grief, yet I can't erase what my mind holds. Reprogramming can be done so that I can look at things in a different light and gain strength or knowledge from an event while at the same time that event will pull triggers of yet earlier events and help me in later events. It is called experience and it is wonderful. Therefore, in the long run, I am back at square one with the original pain only this time I am better armed, but still open to hurt.
Sometimes I wish I were I heartless bitch who did not could care less for others, but that is not me. It would be a safe way to live, but safe sucks when you think about it. Risks are what make life worth living and if risks involve repeated pain, then so be it. Please realize that I am not referring to repeating the same mistakes over and over again as that is totally foolish. What I am trying to say is that no matter what choices you or I make in life, there will be ups and downs and sometimes the downs will hurt, however, it will make the ups so much more appreciated and valuable. Hell, I sometimes look back at what hurt me and smile as the experience was so worth having.
Maybe the reader will think that I am mental case in writing this, however, I don't care. This is me so take it or leave it. I don't really give a rat's ass one way or the other as these are my feelings. ~ 11/29/06 @ 1:16 p.m.
Post Script: With any luck, I will get Alzheimer's. ~ 1:40 p.m.
This blog consists of thoughts, poems, stories of fiction, and stories of fact. In a nutshell, this is my life. Being that I started to write in 2006, I am posting from the date I started to write up until the present. Therefore, I will be posting a great deal as four years of writing IS a great deal. NOTE: all pieces will appear as new until I have the time to place them in their correct time slots. To those of you who happen upon my blog, I thank you for dropping by.
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Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Monday, November 27, 2006
Come Out and Play:
Looking
ever so sweet in his jeans and Converse sneaks, he jumps off the cannon
and heads towards me. I take his hand and we head out into the setting
sun to go on an adventure that will lead us to strange and new places
that only our imagination can take us. With the innocence of children,
we laugh and joke and enjoy the moment for what the moment brings is
magickal and thus never ending.
The world is our playground and, like two children, we take full advantage of it. He is the king and I am the queen. Although not of royal blood, we have ascended the monkey bars and thus we run the grounds as far as our eyes can see. The hobby horses are not only our court, but also our steeds on which we gallop the grounds. Granted, the coil that holds them in place keep us in place as well, however, only those who would lay eyes on us would see that. Actually, we are like the children who jump through the chalk drawing in Mary Poppins. We may not have carousel horses, but ours are just as grand if not more so.
He has a surprise for me at a special park. There in the middle lies a giant spider web made of cable and oh so craftily suspended. Not even the great weaver Arachne herself could weave such a design to withstand our weighted passions. As this is my surprise from him, I too must give him a surprise. Being the good little spider that I am, I head to the center of the web and beckon him to join me. The playful child quickly begins to lose her childlike innocence and turns to a woman and then from a woman to "the black widow." Her invite to be joined does not go unnoticed by the boy who turns to a man and then from a man to a mate. He heads toward me.
Although he enters the web with anticipation, I too have anticipations. Under the full moon, we are many shades of gray and yet our true colors show through. I entwine myself within the web rather than entwine him and wait for him to prey upon me. This widow shall not kill her mate, however, she will allow him to devour her. ~ 11/27/06
The world is our playground and, like two children, we take full advantage of it. He is the king and I am the queen. Although not of royal blood, we have ascended the monkey bars and thus we run the grounds as far as our eyes can see. The hobby horses are not only our court, but also our steeds on which we gallop the grounds. Granted, the coil that holds them in place keep us in place as well, however, only those who would lay eyes on us would see that. Actually, we are like the children who jump through the chalk drawing in Mary Poppins. We may not have carousel horses, but ours are just as grand if not more so.
He has a surprise for me at a special park. There in the middle lies a giant spider web made of cable and oh so craftily suspended. Not even the great weaver Arachne herself could weave such a design to withstand our weighted passions. As this is my surprise from him, I too must give him a surprise. Being the good little spider that I am, I head to the center of the web and beckon him to join me. The playful child quickly begins to lose her childlike innocence and turns to a woman and then from a woman to "the black widow." Her invite to be joined does not go unnoticed by the boy who turns to a man and then from a man to a mate. He heads toward me.
Although he enters the web with anticipation, I too have anticipations. Under the full moon, we are many shades of gray and yet our true colors show through. I entwine myself within the web rather than entwine him and wait for him to prey upon me. This widow shall not kill her mate, however, she will allow him to devour her. ~ 11/27/06
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Lust
Lying before him, my head rises and I see his body of masculinity in all its glory. I gaze into his eyes and maintain my sights and wit while bearing witness to his hands that press firmly upon me. His hands are like no other in that they are sculptured like fine marble in pristine manner made possible by a master. He lays grasp upon my thighs and pries me to his way. Better and more beautiful hands could not be found on Adonis as his tone is human. Aye, a bit of a struggle is given, yet in all sincerity, my longing does not want him to waver. Steadfastly, he lays claim to what is justly his and pours forth his rod into my fever and feeds the very fire that he has ignited. - 11/21/06 at 7:03 p.m.
Monday, November 6, 2006
Is it a human being or a human doing?
"Is it a human being or a human doing?"To err is human, to forgive is divine...
Can it be said that divinity can evolve out of forgiveness? Humans err more oft than not yet see more so in others than themselves. Shortcomings of status occur when reflections are not seen in those akin. Thus, those that can extend forgiveness without piety are more akin to god than human.
Who shall cast the first stone? Many. They are oh too human in doing. ~ 11/06/06
Inspired by and written to "Nathan"
Can it be said that divinity can evolve out of forgiveness? Humans err more oft than not yet see more so in others than themselves. Shortcomings of status occur when reflections are not seen in those akin. Thus, those that can extend forgiveness without piety are more akin to god than human.
Who shall cast the first stone? Many. They are oh too human in doing. ~ 11/06/06
Inspired by and written to "Nathan"
Sunday, November 5, 2006
Where Dost Madness Dwell?
Where Dost Madness Dwell?
If insanity dwells within
And heresy is accused
Rest on the laurels of thy base
Or be defiled of thine own being
Madness is what controlled men fear
Their animal lurks beneath their wool clothes
Like a wolf in sheep's skinned stealth
The true blade lies within this sheath o skin
Double edged yet bloodless
More runs through the veins in a leaf
Than bears metal in thine arteries
O petrified forest of men
Whose hearts have turned to stone
Whose legs have taken root to ground
Whose branches no longer expand
Dare to think like a mad hatter or a March hare
And allow Sherwood to thrive ~ 11/5/06
If insanity dwells within
And heresy is accused
Rest on the laurels of thy base
Or be defiled of thine own being
Madness is what controlled men fear
Their animal lurks beneath their wool clothes
Like a wolf in sheep's skinned stealth
The true blade lies within this sheath o skin
Double edged yet bloodless
More runs through the veins in a leaf
Than bears metal in thine arteries
O petrified forest of men
Whose hearts have turned to stone
Whose legs have taken root to ground
Whose branches no longer expand
Dare to think like a mad hatter or a March hare
And allow Sherwood to thrive ~ 11/5/06
Saturday, November 4, 2006
Dreams Disturbed
Over the course of months, I have had a few dreams about a particular person which caused me to wake each and every time.
In the first dream I was awake and received criticism for something as silly as spelling mistakes. His chastisement woke me out of my sleep.
The second dream, I was asleep within. However, he again roused and aroused me in a way that I will keep to myself. The seeming reality of the dream woke me from my actual sleep and delightfully so.
Within the dream last night, I was again asleep, but the method of his crafty kiss succeeded to wake me in the dream and in reality.
Damn, I only slept about 4 hours. Help! What is going on here? Hum. ~ 11/4/06
In the first dream I was awake and received criticism for something as silly as spelling mistakes. His chastisement woke me out of my sleep.
The second dream, I was asleep within. However, he again roused and aroused me in a way that I will keep to myself. The seeming reality of the dream woke me from my actual sleep and delightfully so.
Within the dream last night, I was again asleep, but the method of his crafty kiss succeeded to wake me in the dream and in reality.
Damn, I only slept about 4 hours. Help! What is going on here? Hum. ~ 11/4/06
Letting out some stream
Whaa I am in thinking mode and I want to pull my hair out by the roots! It is just another day of feeling like shit. Yeah okay I have put myself in this situation, but would I have it any other way? NO. You may ask why do I do this to myself? Feelings at any level, whether it is pain or pleasure, is a feeling had. Sometimes what feels like pleasure for one second, makes you feel like shit for years after and therefore it is a pain. I am trying to figure out if pain and pleasure are one and the same.
So I don’t sound too off the wall I will try to explain this. When you love someone (it doesn’t matter who it is in your life), even if it is briefly (briefly could even be 20 years in the course of a lifetime), that love stays with you regardless of what they do to/for you. The absence of that individual for whatever time between the end of the relationship (due to parting of ways or death) and the end of your life is a hell of a long time.
This may sound like I am dwelling in the past, however, the past is a connection to the present and the future and does not only apply in a love situation.
Now think on this: What hurts more...physical or emotional pain? Not for anything, but I would rather take a beating. Black eyes, broken bones, cracked head, and many other things are not so bad in comparison. After reading this over, I realize that they can tie into each other because I would have to look at who is causing the pain and why.
If the person is a stranger who punches your face, you see black and lash out at them with everything you have built up inside you with a massive fury. The impact of the punch that they have given you does not really hurt. It is almost like you want them to give you an excuse to vent. Then again if a person you love hits you, you may or may not lash back. If you do lash back, it would be mild in comparison. Pain does not even have to be delivered by blows as it can come from words that cause scars and internal damage. Boy could I chase my tail on this one. When I start to think about it, it is all fucked up!
There is negative and positive attention. As a kid, I sought attention from my parent in any way that I could get it. While in the custody of a care giver, I did not seek attention at all, but I did receive negative and destructive attention. In conjunction with the negative and positive attention I got from my parent, I started to tune out and stray out into oblivion to deaden all feeling or find a hole in the ground. In the end, even though I found what I believe to be myself after recovering my feelings and trying to deal with them, myself and my feelings turned out to be what a mishmash. At least I did not succeed to the hole in the ground even though it was sought a few times. Coming to terms with myself was not an overnight process as it is still a work in progress. Hell, I may never find out who and what I am, but I won’t give up my evolution regardless of the bumps and bruises that occur along the way. At this point, I allow myself to feel, but at the same time, I realize that I can turn it all inward and disappear. ~ 11/4/06 @ 10:36 a.m.
So I don’t sound too off the wall I will try to explain this. When you love someone (it doesn’t matter who it is in your life), even if it is briefly (briefly could even be 20 years in the course of a lifetime), that love stays with you regardless of what they do to/for you. The absence of that individual for whatever time between the end of the relationship (due to parting of ways or death) and the end of your life is a hell of a long time.
This may sound like I am dwelling in the past, however, the past is a connection to the present and the future and does not only apply in a love situation.
Now think on this: What hurts more...physical or emotional pain? Not for anything, but I would rather take a beating. Black eyes, broken bones, cracked head, and many other things are not so bad in comparison. After reading this over, I realize that they can tie into each other because I would have to look at who is causing the pain and why.
If the person is a stranger who punches your face, you see black and lash out at them with everything you have built up inside you with a massive fury. The impact of the punch that they have given you does not really hurt. It is almost like you want them to give you an excuse to vent. Then again if a person you love hits you, you may or may not lash back. If you do lash back, it would be mild in comparison. Pain does not even have to be delivered by blows as it can come from words that cause scars and internal damage. Boy could I chase my tail on this one. When I start to think about it, it is all fucked up!
There is negative and positive attention. As a kid, I sought attention from my parent in any way that I could get it. While in the custody of a care giver, I did not seek attention at all, but I did receive negative and destructive attention. In conjunction with the negative and positive attention I got from my parent, I started to tune out and stray out into oblivion to deaden all feeling or find a hole in the ground. In the end, even though I found what I believe to be myself after recovering my feelings and trying to deal with them, myself and my feelings turned out to be what a mishmash. At least I did not succeed to the hole in the ground even though it was sought a few times. Coming to terms with myself was not an overnight process as it is still a work in progress. Hell, I may never find out who and what I am, but I won’t give up my evolution regardless of the bumps and bruises that occur along the way. At this point, I allow myself to feel, but at the same time, I realize that I can turn it all inward and disappear. ~ 11/4/06 @ 10:36 a.m.
Friday, November 3, 2006
The Fight in Sheepshead Bay
The Fight in Sheepshead Bay
More memories...
Everyone that knew me, knew I had one vicious temper as I never held anything back. What made Roxanne and Julianne think that I would let it go after I went after them with a baseball bat and threw Andrew down a flight of stairs? Their idle threats that I should watch my back fell on deaf ears. I don't think Andrew let them know what they were up against. That is too bad. At least Andrew told the boyfriend of some Jersey bitch who I bloodied by the pit, to leave before I did more damage to her face. He also warned this other bitch named Sue to leave before I stabbed her. * Clarification...I was wielding a knife and I sliced something and told her she was next. Trust me when I say that her ass moved real quick.
Let's get real here. Not for anything, these people were warned. Some people don't take warnings seriously. Duh!
I had gone looking for Roxanne with a chain wrapped around my fist. Prep work was done prior to leaving home such as making sure that I took off my earring, necklaces, or anything that could bring me down. My blood was boiling and my intent of finding her was great. If I would have found Julianne, her ass would have been kicked instead. Both of them would have been fought if I had to. These two bitches violated respect in a big way and deserved to get hurt. However, Roxanne deserved it more than Julianne. I was in front of the train station in the Bay when I saw her with some of her friends and I called her out to fight. All is fair...I was alone and she had her friends. Right in the middle of the street we had a brawl and I was nailing her. This ass of a guy, whose name escapes me at the moment, but whom I later became friends with jumped me from behind so I flipped him and gave him a heel in the gut. It must have hurt because he held it while lying on the ground. The sound of his head hitting the asphalt sounded like a coconut. Clunk! Everyone heard it. The crowd was laughing at him for getting nailed by a girl. His male friends also gave him shit as it was not fair that he jumped in. Damn it is funny that I can remember his house and could find it tomorrow, but his name is gone. What is funny about this story is that Julianne, the guy I flipped, and their friends became friends with me. Roxanne moved. ~ 11/3/06 ** The guy's name was Billy.
More memories...
Everyone that knew me, knew I had one vicious temper as I never held anything back. What made Roxanne and Julianne think that I would let it go after I went after them with a baseball bat and threw Andrew down a flight of stairs? Their idle threats that I should watch my back fell on deaf ears. I don't think Andrew let them know what they were up against. That is too bad. At least Andrew told the boyfriend of some Jersey bitch who I bloodied by the pit, to leave before I did more damage to her face. He also warned this other bitch named Sue to leave before I stabbed her. * Clarification...I was wielding a knife and I sliced something and told her she was next. Trust me when I say that her ass moved real quick.
Let's get real here. Not for anything, these people were warned. Some people don't take warnings seriously. Duh!
I had gone looking for Roxanne with a chain wrapped around my fist. Prep work was done prior to leaving home such as making sure that I took off my earring, necklaces, or anything that could bring me down. My blood was boiling and my intent of finding her was great. If I would have found Julianne, her ass would have been kicked instead. Both of them would have been fought if I had to. These two bitches violated respect in a big way and deserved to get hurt. However, Roxanne deserved it more than Julianne. I was in front of the train station in the Bay when I saw her with some of her friends and I called her out to fight. All is fair...I was alone and she had her friends. Right in the middle of the street we had a brawl and I was nailing her. This ass of a guy, whose name escapes me at the moment, but whom I later became friends with jumped me from behind so I flipped him and gave him a heel in the gut. It must have hurt because he held it while lying on the ground. The sound of his head hitting the asphalt sounded like a coconut. Clunk! Everyone heard it. The crowd was laughing at him for getting nailed by a girl. His male friends also gave him shit as it was not fair that he jumped in. Damn it is funny that I can remember his house and could find it tomorrow, but his name is gone. What is funny about this story is that Julianne, the guy I flipped, and their friends became friends with me. Roxanne moved. ~ 11/3/06 ** The guy's name was Billy.
Thursday, November 2, 2006
Art of the Time
From out of the Dark Ages there was light
The light was the art of the schools
By whose hands gave us insight to past minds and their view of history
We can note in the paintings of Giotto (1266 - 1336), Duccio Di Buoninsegna (1260? - 1319?), Sassetta (1392 - 1450), and Antonello da Messina (1430? - 1479?) that they viewed past histories from in their own time rather than in its actual time period.
In essence, we are given a good view of the painter's point in time and life in that time.
When thou casts and eye to literature, do cast an eye to art. ~ 11/2/06
The light was the art of the schools
By whose hands gave us insight to past minds and their view of history
We can note in the paintings of Giotto (1266 - 1336), Duccio Di Buoninsegna (1260? - 1319?), Sassetta (1392 - 1450), and Antonello da Messina (1430? - 1479?) that they viewed past histories from in their own time rather than in its actual time period.
In essence, we are given a good view of the painter's point in time and life in that time.
When thou casts and eye to literature, do cast an eye to art. ~ 11/2/06
Beckon Thy Ear
Shard o shard
Dig deep within thee
Let not simmering peace be known’st
Burrow that of malicious intent
Speak naught of that which is arbitrary
And pulls at and upon thy reason
Tis known that birds of plunder are put asunder
By axe or arrow doomed be known
Be not shallow engravings on tin
But grave wounds to the heart
Ready a spit for the harvester
As the sacred lamb shall be put to death ~ 11/2/06
Dig deep within thee
Let not simmering peace be known’st
Burrow that of malicious intent
Speak naught of that which is arbitrary
And pulls at and upon thy reason
Tis known that birds of plunder are put asunder
By axe or arrow doomed be known
Be not shallow engravings on tin
But grave wounds to the heart
Ready a spit for the harvester
As the sacred lamb shall be put to death ~ 11/2/06
Humanity by the Wayside
Lying across my bed I weep tears of sorrow
As the smell of decay has penetrated and provoked my nostrils
And has entered my throat
Escape as I try
These savage scents do not grant me rest
And its residual taste lingers upon my buds
Putrid in form and order
That oft lie overwhelmed is the state of it
My eyes are not blind
Nor are my ears deaf
And I feel as I do
Alas, my senses have not been deprived
The battery thereof has been pushed to excess
So much so that if all and all could be placed in a sphere
Not even Atlas himself could hold charge
Of what I am sent to borrow from those of less fortune
Grant me strength that I may share my load
With those of heart
With thee who see humanity where humanity has been abandoned
Do take heed ~ 11/2/06
As the smell of decay has penetrated and provoked my nostrils
And has entered my throat
Escape as I try
These savage scents do not grant me rest
And its residual taste lingers upon my buds
Putrid in form and order
That oft lie overwhelmed is the state of it
My eyes are not blind
Nor are my ears deaf
And I feel as I do
Alas, my senses have not been deprived
The battery thereof has been pushed to excess
So much so that if all and all could be placed in a sphere
Not even Atlas himself could hold charge
Of what I am sent to borrow from those of less fortune
Grant me strength that I may share my load
With those of heart
With thee who see humanity where humanity has been abandoned
Do take heed ~ 11/2/06
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