tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66673608107703118372024-03-07T23:50:59.705-08:00Carpe Diem.A paradigm of procrastination.Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-1100833522989595512011-05-28T09:53:00.000-07:002011-05-28T10:04:55.776-07:00Tatters and Rags 4<span style="font-family:arial;">I don’t have excuses. Frankly I just stayed away. ‘Cause I was pretending to be too busy.<br />People do that sometimes, you know.<br /><br />Anyway.<br />Shitty shitty</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> luck is the topic of the evening.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Even though Word insists I 'delete repeated word' (yes: I type my blog posts on Word first, then copy and paste them onto the new post thingy –you can’t judge), I think the reptition does not stem from redundancy - but from necessity.<br /><br />Because I’ve got shitty luck galore. Yes, that much. You’d think the universe would be more caring and share my shitty shitty luck with more people so that there’s balance.<br /><br />I laugh as I even type that out. It’s quite blasphemous, the idea that the universe cares.<br /><br />But then one day, I bump right into someone with shittier lucky than mine, and I can’t very well complain. Reason doesn’t let me.<br />Reason understands chance. It does. It purrs at the numbers, and the rarity of combinations. Faith though, dispels notions of luck – they don’t add up in faith ... counting units? No, they all scream 'destiny'.<br /><br />Personally, I’d like to think luck is every human’s friction with earth. Luck is the reaction to everyone’s choice making and being.<br /><br />So I’ve made a lot of crappy choice – I tsk myself, really.<br /><br />Or maybe, the Earth doesn't rub right with my being? :O. Now that is total ruin.<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"></span>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-42851708266282233532010-09-04T08:50:00.000-07:002010-09-04T08:55:02.080-07:00A Container's Liquid."Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning." - Author Unknown.<br /><br />I came along and decided to try...<br /><br />_____<br /><br /><blockquote>Love is a liquid.<br />And you find it a container.<br />You’ll probably like it.<br />And you’ll probably not.<br />Maybe you’ll find another.<br />And maybe you won’t.<br />Perhaps you’ll wait a little.<br />Perhaps you’ll wait not at all.<br /><br />Love is many things, nothing and some other things.<br />Yet most of all, it’s a search for a container.<br />Not the perfect one.<br />Not the best one.<br />But one that you like enough.<br />One that you trust enough.<br />How much is enough?<br />I don’t know.<br />Perchance one day you’ll tell me.<br />Or one day I’ll tell you.<br />Either way, it’s a container we seek to find.<br />And find we may never.<br />But seek we shall, at some point, in some time.<br /><br />What’s in a container, you ask?<br />A liquid, I reply.</blockquote>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-28912002446259890132010-06-25T05:00:00.000-07:002011-05-27T11:40:11.860-07:00Tatters and Rags # 3.<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">I am very happy to announce that I have found the template of my dreams. *Strokes screen*. Ah, it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.</span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">Isn’t it so lovely?</span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">God bless the little genius that made it. May God give you wings too, so you can fly, ‘cause you’re awesome like that. </span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">Hmm, so I really have nothing to talk about. Well, not nothing, but ideas are just fleeting, and it takes too much effort to piece them together.</span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">*10 minutes later*.</span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">Oh yes. I have found a rant: ‘Altruism’.</span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">I want to find the guy that invented that word, and give him a sticker. Or beat him with a cane.</span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">I can’t decide which at the moment, because he could either be the most sarcastic guy on the planet for always having the last laugh at such mockery of the human race, or he could be a serious dolt, with wannabe Gandhi genes. I really can’t decide which.</span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">For the sake of flying unicorns in the planet next to ours, altruists do not exist. They simply can’t. It defies all that is distinctly characteristic of human nature. No one is selfless. No one. Unless you’re dead, in which case – you’re literally selfless. </span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">Otherwise, there is no such a thing as a selfless human; it’s an oxymoron of the highest grade. </span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">Humans are all selfish.</span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">Alongside ‘human’, you’d expect the word ‘self-centeredness’ to appear – and it comes as no shock, to me at least. </span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">Yes, we donate to the poor. But that’s driven by a need to obtain self-satisfaction, self- righteousness. It’s these accumulated drops of egoism that dilute the moronic concept of ‘altruism’. But they’re just drops you say – relative, it’s all altruism. It’s not. These drops define the nature of the act. That it is just as much for you – better yet, more for you, than it is for the poor man you donate to. </span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">So you see, there is always a motive: it’s called self-benefit. Even if the self-benefit is something as ‘pure’ as ‘feeling good’. It’s still for you. </span></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#666666;">So I say we make a petition, and cross the word ‘altruism’ off from the dictionary, and cane the baboon that put it there. No sticker for him at all. Heh.</span></span></span></p>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-52261171461824630752010-06-02T09:29:00.000-07:002011-05-27T11:41:12.752-07:00In and out of the blue, that’s all I’ll ever be to you.<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p><span style="color:#663366;">So I've been on hiatus for like...a while.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">But hey, it's my blog, so I can do whatever I want. Hmph.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">Yeah, that's right. *sticks tongue out*. It's my stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">Anyway, so with the passing of that childish moment, I shall continue.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">---<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">Its musical beats traveled ever so harmoniously together. A synchronized dance, really - never once did the beat falter, never once did the tune drop. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">An invisible composer, one would think.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">But the notion is then denied, as the perfection of its song registers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">It surrounds its victim; like a siren, ensnares, and latches on<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">But the melody is ever so soft, the tune ever so mystic.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">It sings of wants not given into, records not yet played, and deeds not to be made. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;color:#663366;" >It whispers of hope.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;"><span style="font-size:+0;"></span><br /></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">A crescendo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">It drums with the beat of a tomorrow - your tomorrow; my tomorrow; their tomorrow. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">A tomorrow so artfully designed, in the separate clandestine layer of yearning of the billions.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">A layer so thoroughly fortified. Yet its loudness, ever overwhelming, mocks those feeble safeguards. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">Its loudness breaks the chains, crushes the locks, and rumples the ‘Do No Enter’ signs. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">The music engulfing, takes over. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">It laughs at how easy it is, to overpower; at how easy it is to unravel the holding back.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">A decrescendo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">A lulling caress.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">An invisible enticement calling out every so softly, and yet so lucidly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;">Still, it holds on ‘till there’s nothing but the refrain; that jeering chorus, a constant reminder of the capitulation: ‘In and<br /></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#663366;">out of the blue, that’s all I’ll ever be to you.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="COLOR: rgb(153,51,153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%;font-size:85%;color:#663366;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="COLOR: rgb(153,51,153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color:#663366;">But you knew that. Yet you gave in anyway, because you learned a long time ago, that there’s no escape. For it always takes over - always wins. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-83109967655642512642010-03-03T09:12:00.000-08:002010-03-03T09:16:32.899-08:00Tatters and Rags #2<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 51, 102); line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Justin Beiber.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Justin who?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Justin Beiber?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Huh?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Justin Beiber!</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">:/</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">JUSTIN BEIBER</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You mean the baby-faced mama’s blonde boy that came out of his own ass and wasn’t breastfed long enough?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">JUSTIN BEIBER: What the shit is this?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">JUSTIN BEIBER: A fatal Global issue.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">JUSTIN BEIBER: The near end of the world. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">AAAAAHHH! </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Justin Beiber, I dismiss you.</span></span></span></span></span></p>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-71418288811770464522010-02-26T04:50:00.000-08:002010-02-27T06:44:55.498-08:00Tatters and Rags #1<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">So, as you can see, yes, I did change my template again.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">I can’t help it; I go all gaga when I see a new template.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">And look, it’s all pretty, that you just want to caress it, in a very platonic way.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">But I also like the previous on too :(</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">And therein lays my dilemma.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">Which, my fellow readers, do you like best-est?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"></span></span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">Apart from that…what was I going to say?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">Oh yes. I’ve decided to make a category of posts called ‘Tatters and Rags’, where I would put together the splints and wisps of my thoughts to constitute an awesome filled ramble for you to read.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"></span></span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">And so begins Tatters and Rags #1:</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">I am listening to sick guitar solos, and dying peacefully.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">I swear, they are SO incredibly awesome, that you could just sink into them and wait for the apocalypse, with a 'no boredom guaranteed' warranty.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">Sexiest shit ever, guitars. *Dreamy look*.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">They own, in every possible way there is to own, and then some.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">They own, like it’s nobody’s business.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">They just own, okay?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"></span></span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">So I’m currently happily Facebooking, and holyshit: they’re really all kinds of creatures in the vast space outside, called earth.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">I mean nothing says variety like Facebook. Really.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">You see them all.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">The ones whom you might as well live with, because they insist on telling you what they are doing all the time.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">The ones that keep forcing you to be exploited to disgusting lamenting romance songs sung by hillbilly High school dropout bimbos.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">The retards with the ‘gangsta’ statuses: ‘Ama go bang bang, aiight?’.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">Pft, you should go die die, aiigh?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">And the corny couples that keep writing disgusting stuff, all overfilled with hearts and gay endearing words, that could make honey melt. </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">Sheesh, just ‘cause you signed up for stickiness a-la- carte, doesn’t mean we have to endure it too, yeah?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">And they’re all such small people, they should do themselves a favor and just die, you know?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">It’s for the better of the planet, and things beyond the planet, even. Heh.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">But no, they continue living anyway. Because even if you did tell them that they suck more than Lady Gaga’s hair, hell entire 'iconic' figure soaked in neon pink paint, and then decorated with yellow glitter, they would still exist, if for nothing else than to plague you. </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">Lady Gaga should die too, did I mention that?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">She’s like a cross section between a small time Chinese noodle -seller and a Korean French-wannabe. ‘Ga ga oh la la.’</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">I tell you, the world is not okay.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;">The world will never be okay.</span></span></span></p><p></p>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-71694337161854111272010-02-12T06:06:00.000-08:002010-03-03T22:36:33.885-08:00A Temporary Keeping.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There is not much you get to keep in life. There is not much that you can really call yours.<br /><br />But it’s those few things that you do, in fact get to keep, that maintain your hold on them ever so strong, your grip ever so tight, and your will to never let go, ever so focused.<br /><br />Yet as time passes, you start to ponder, if even those keep-able things can ever really be yours: if they’re worth keeping after all. Because as the clock hands make their daily rounds in such casual airs, you come to realize that maybe you keep nothing.<br /><br />Maybe all you do is borrow, and it becomes a temporary ‘keep’.<br /><br /><br />Yes, that must be it.<br />It would explain why things go, why others stay.<br /><br />Maybe life is a sign out sheet.<br />I sign you out.<br />I sign it out.<br /><br />Then at the due date, we all return to our places in the shelf, until something else comes along; until someone else comes along:<br /><br />And it becomes the start of a new temporary keeping...</span></span></span>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-37088817170628331992010-01-07T07:29:00.000-08:002010-03-03T22:37:10.591-08:00Circles, Loops and Cycles.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">- Can I ask you something?<br />- Ask away.<br />- Why?<br />- I don’t know.<br />- How?<br />- I have no clue.<br />- When?<br />- Never.<br />- Where?<br />- No where.<br />- I don’t like this.<br />- What?<br />- Nothing.<br />- Evasive are we?<br />- Maybe.<br />- Such shrewish behavior.<br />- I do beg you pardon?<br />- You asked.<br />- You failed to reply.<br />- Oh, but I did reply.<br />- No you didn’t.<br />- I’m sure that mono-syllabic jumble is hardly considered a reply.<br />- I see, replies have standards.<br />- Of course they do.<br />- A reply is an answer to a question, last I checked.<br />- Yes, but a proper reply to a question.<br />- Proper by whose terms?<br />- The person asking the question.<br />- That makes utterly no sense.<br />- Oh, and in your backwards world, it is the person answering who deems a reply proper?<br />- Obviously. You ask, so I answer with whatever way I deem proper.<br />- Rubbish.<br />- You sound a tab bit British for my taste.<br />- You have trashy written all over you from where I’m standing.<br />- Touche. Still, you’re digressing.<br />- I was doing no such thing.<br />- I refuse to be belittled to saying ‘was to’.<br />- In the same manner I refuse to say ‘was not’.<br />- The end?<br />- No.<br />- That’s quite the monosyllabic answer you’ve got there.<br />- Yes, but you asked.<br />- And you answered.<br />- Does it leave you satisfied?<br />- Ah, that’s an entirely different matter.<br />- From whose stance?<br />- I believe the person answering the question.<br />- So then, you agree there is a proper answer.<br />- No.<br />- Then?<br />- There is a satisfactory answer.<br />- Yes, the proper answer.<br />- No, the more appealing answer to your individual is the satisfactory answer.<br />- And that would make it the proper answer.<br />- On the contrary, that would simply make it the most satisfactory.<br />- A proper answer is hardly a satisfactory answer.<br />- A proper answer is categorized by it’s degree of providing satisfaction.<br />- Am I dead?<br />- …No.<br />- Is that the proper answer.<br />- Yes.<br />- Is that the most satisfying answer, to you?<br />- No.<br />- You’d rather I was dead?<br />- From where I’m standing, oh very much so.<br />- Why you ungrateful piece of ish.<br />- I’d choose my words more carefully, say since I’m not making any attempts on your life.<br />- As if you could.<br />- My tongue is scissor sharp.<br />- Sadly, that is not a weapon.<br />- By whose principles?<br />- Mine.<br />- And since when are those of any importance?<br />- You see, there is your fatal flaw.<br />- In your eyes.<br />- Of course. I vouch for only this pair of eyes.<br />- Such perceptive eyes they are.<br />- How you flatter me.<br />- Just tell me what my fatal flaw is.<br />- You’re eyeless.<br />- You’re looking at my eyes right now.<br />- Don’t be obtuse.<br />- Do I add a tally to the “How Many Times I’ve Been Insulted” count?<br />- You have one?<br />- I deem that question not worth an answer.<br />- I rather thought you did myself, but fine, we shall leave you bathing in denial as of yet.<br />- You’re digressing.<br />- Eyeless.<br />- Elaborate.<br />- Your feeling won’t get hurt?<br />- I’m looking for something very sharp.<br />- What about that tongue of yours?<br />- I need something slightly sharper for what I have in mind.<br />- I shiver.<br />- I don’t like this banter.<br />- Ah, but I think you do.<br />- What happened to not vouching for anyone but yourself.<br />- I said I vouch for what I see. And I see that you are enjoying this.<br />- Now, you are proving to be quite eyeless.<br />- See, it did hurt your feelings.<br />- I don’t give you that kind of hold on my feelings.<br />- I see.<br />- You do?<br />- Yes, quite.<br />- So why is it then that I’m eyeless?<br />- Because you think a proper answer is a satisfactory one.<br />- That hardly supports your empty claim.<br />- A proper answer is seldom a satisfactory one. At a time where they are one and the same – it’s a rare joyous time. Sometimes the proper answers that we seek we’ve heard a hundred and one times over. Yet it is our reluctance to accept them, that keeps us repeatedly asking, and always wondering in circles, loops and cycles.<br />- Imparting wisdom are we?<br />- You asked away.<br />- I did.<br />- Why?<br />- I don’t know.<br />- How?<br />- I have no clue.<br />- When?<br />- Never.<br />- Where?<br />- No where.</span></span></span>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-78855793192258968262009-12-31T12:10:00.000-08:002010-03-04T01:18:42.153-08:00The Turning of A Decade.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Being the last day of 2009, and whatnot, I thought I should write something. Just so that it would show up on my archives.<br /><br />And you know...<br />Just to sort of make it look like I am an ever fervent blogger. *Rolls eyes*. As if.<br /><br />And I really really want to say something meaningful.<br />But meaningful seems so hard right now.<br /><br />Nevertheless, I shall try.<br /><br />So 365 days passed, just like that.<br />Just like last year this time, another set of 365 days passed.<br />And it seems every year we re-sit this scenario, and we feel burdened by the weight of all those days.<br /><br />To be honest?<br />I don’t feel in the least burdened.<br />I just want to sleep.<br />Pounding headache.<br />Too bad sleep is ever elusive these days.<br /><br />Anyway, as I sit here, typing ever so meticulously, I can’t help but noticed the soreness of my fingers from replying to the overflow of “Happy New Year” messages, and wait for it: the phone calls =/<br /><br />Ahh, now that that’s all dispensed with… I feel my inner calm resurfacing.<br /><br /><br />So where was I?<br />Yes, 365 days...<br />Can you imagine?<br />Three hundred and sixty five days.<br />300 + 60 + 5<br /><br />That’s like … a lot of days.<br /><br />Yet, we’ve managed to plow through them, in hopes of plowing through a new set of 365 days.<br />So, honestly? I think 2009, and I come up blank.<br />And then I think 2009 again, and small things come into focus.<br />Those small things that make it ever so defined in its commonness.<br />It’s funny how I find myself at a different predicament than the one I predicted I would be in. Not better, not worse, just different.<br />And I guess that’s what makes reality much different from our most analytic predictions.<br /><br />Here’s to new predictions.<br />Here’s to new joy.<br />Here’s to new despair.<br />Here’s to new events.<br />Here’s to new ice cream flavors.<br />Here’s to new awesome people that we'll meet.<br />Here’s to new inspiration.<br /><br />Here’s to a new year....2010.<br /><br />P.S I’m so going to have such a hard time writing the date. I can see it clearly: ‘Girl attacks paper: 2010, not so easy to write.’</span></span></span>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-2571162880859701462009-12-14T14:06:00.000-08:002009-12-20T07:15:50.715-08:00The Collector."A sour Skittle for your thoughts?" he asked.<br /><br />"I don't like sour Skittles", she replied.<br /><br />"They're quite amazing you know," he countered.<br /><br />"I find them vile, and evil".<br /><br />He arched his right brow, demanding an explanation.<br /><br />"They're sour, yet sweet, thought bittersweet would be the wrong word to use, and the minute they enter your mouth, you escape your own shell for minute, and focus all your energy on getting over that sour paralysis they seem to ignite," she explained.<br /><br />"Wow, sour Skittles analysis?" he murmured.<br /><br />"And you want in on my thoughts".<br /><br />"Please, by all means share those. I will not judge", he bargained.<br /><br />"It wouldn't matter if you did, and I think you know that, just as well", she uttered with a smirk.<br /><br />"Sadly, that is true. Still, on a more serious note...those thoughts?"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />"The many words unsaid", she stated at last.<br /><br />"What about them?"<br /><br /><br />"There's the said.<br />Selectively constructed verbalizations.<br />And then, there's the unsaid.<br />A disparaging mess."<br /><br />She paused.<br />And he sucked on another Skittle.<br />She looked at him - so very unaffected by the its tangy taste.<br /><br />"Do go on... a disparaging mess?"<br /><br />"Within every person, resides the said and the unsaid. <br />The said at times brings much relief, for it frees and rescues the soul, in a timely, yet miniscule manner.<br />The unsaid, is a constantly-procreating particle of lead. And one day, it becomes a sheet of lead, and then a block of lead ...<br /><br />Now, hypothetically speaking, if there was an 'unsaid words' collector - he would be the most engaged man* around.<br />Every minute, he would transport buckets of unsaid words to his small corner, and start fitting the interconnecting parts; start penetrating the thick layers of enigma obstructing the bigger picture.<br /><br />He would see what she can't see.<br />He would see what you can't see.<br />He would see what they can't see.<br /><br /><br />He would finally understand - make sense of the jumbles, and the odds and ends.<br /><br />And within his reach, would lay the key to everything. To everyone's souls.<br />Now, that's ultimate power."<br /><br /><br />He looked at her in masked awe.<br /><br />She silently implored him to reply.<br /><br />He ignored that urge.<br /><br />There was too much unsaid.<br />There was too much to unchain.<br /><br />Better keep the way it is, held by bare threads - yet held all the same.<br /><br />She laughed sardonically. "Look at us, having a heart-to-heart about the 'unsaid words' collected, when he's no more real than Tinker Bell herself. It's okay, I wasn't really expecting much of a reply anyway. It seems the fruitless 'said', is all we have. I'd explain more, but you wouldn't begin to grasp the gist of it."<br /><br />With that, she selected a green Skittle from his packet, popped it in her mouth, and let its sour-numbing effect take over - and in that little while she didn't think, for she didn't have to.<br /><br /><br />He started to say something, and then stopped. He stared at her walking way, becoming more and more distant.<br /><br />'<i>I</i><span><i> </i><i>understand'</i></span> he wanted to say.<br /><br />Many a day when he would dream of being that very same man.<br />Yet the much unsaid outweighed his understanding, and so he said nothing.<br />Nothing at all.<br /><br />*Note: 'man' here is derived from mankind, and not the other constituents of the population.Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-55599212703012985132009-11-22T05:56:00.000-08:002009-12-02T09:26:30.250-08:00Line Of Best Fit.<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" rel="File-List" href="file:///c:%5Ctemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link 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style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal">I don’t need to constantly speak of my greatness. My essence whispers it loud and clear.</p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal">I don’t constantly need to huddle in large crowds. My presence is all I need.</p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal">I don't feel the need to make myself apparent. I'm a kaleidoscope of a being, all on my own. </p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal">I simply stand out. </p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal">And you don’t.</p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal">While that may kill you -</p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal">It makes me smile in return.</p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal">And when you see that smile.</p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal">A part of you dies.</p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal">But I’m still smiling. </p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal">Because you’re no one.</p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>While, me: I’m my own light, my own darkness and everything in between.</p> Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-76226445192594522882009-10-17T06:21:00.000-07:002009-10-17T09:03:26.346-07:00I Hear No Footsteps Approaching.<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Dearest Fortress,</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >It’s sad how no one approaches your solid walls - walls whose solid stand is proof of their long existence. No one ever dares to give you even the slightest gentle push. They see you from afar, and plot to shatter you. And when they smell the enigma you radiate, they hover and try to break you, to see what’s inside. Then, when all fails, they turn and look for something more feasible. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />What happened to the thrill of being on unfamiliar ground?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Whatever happened to challenging that inner security shell, some work a lifetime to build?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />All those people out there, yet I hear no footsteps.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />I find it sadder that out of all those people, most of them are a waste of space. People have become so common that you can substitute one for the other.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Why?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >What happened to that sense of individualism?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >What happened to being your own self?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >What happened to having your own walls?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >People pale every hour, fortress: they become hollow blocks of solidity. They integrate themselves into the masses, removing all their walls, but forget that they are an individual unit within these masses.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >But you fortress, stand alone, away from the crowd. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >It leaves me engulfed in sadness - all these masses.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >It leaves me craving something original.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >It leaves me longing to savor something new and refreshing.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Something to take away this ever tedious aftertaste.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Yet again, I feel it’s just me that’s craving. The rest seem happy enough with the replicated commonness out there.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I understand it’s much easier to handle ‘normal’. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >It’s much easier to understand ‘normal’.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Because ‘normal’ is ‘normal’, and will always be.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >But ‘normal’ is predictably dull.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >It’s seamlessly replaceable.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >There is little to lose, and nothing to gain with ‘normal’.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >But you’re not normal, fortress.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And I am forever your captive. For I built you, strong and standing still, and then locked myself deep within.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Sometimes I wonder if I was right to make you look so intimidating, that you drive everything away. But when despair hits, and you absorb it all, I know I need you just as you are</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Sometimes I wonder if I was right to lock myself in, and not just wait by the door, for someone to knock. But when I see rocks flying at your windows, I know that I need to stay deep inside.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Sometimes I wonder what it would sound like if someone ever knocked on the door?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Or maybe climbed the windows, and crawled inside?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I hear no footsteps approaching, fortress.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >None have approached in a long time.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And that leaves me sad.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Why does no one approach, fortress?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">___________________________________________________________________</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br />If you think you can answer any of the questions above, please do!<br /></span>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-27123003179958544882009-10-02T06:49:00.000-07:002009-10-09T06:02:41.741-07:00To you, Self.<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link style="font-family: arial;" rel="File-List" href="file:///c:%5Ctemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link style="font-family: arial;" rel="themeData" href="file:///c:%5Ctemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link style="font-family: arial;" rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///c:%5Ctemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> 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Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Segoe UI","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoPapDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; margin-bottom:10.0pt; line-height:115%;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;">A while I know. Swamped, I swear :(<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">For the muse in an onesie: Yes, inspiration did hit at that moment :P and,<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">Chubby cheeks <3:> Msn remains better!<o:p></o:p></p> <u4:p style="font-family: arial;"></u4:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms"><u4:p></u4:p><u4:p>______________________________________________________________________________________________________<o:p></o:p></u4:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms"><u4:p></u4:p>Dearest self,<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms"><u4:p></u4:p>Here I am, again. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">Just me.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">The present you.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">In this very defining moment.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">I write to all of you self.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">From this defining moment.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">To that past ‘you’, to the present ‘you’, and to the enigmatic future ‘you’.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">I write to you all.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">United in this moment, yet set apart in the infinite wave of time. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">To all of you I write this-<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms"><u4:p></u4:p>It is my most profound wish for me to meet you Self. Not this present ‘you’ that I know, but all of you. You self, are segmented across time, and never whole for me to see. Could you try Self, time set aside, to give me just a glimpse of your entirety: a complete converged image, with all details in the correct place?<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">Is it too much to ask, to see you all- past, present and future? It seems so.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">And that leaves me here to contemplate and question the reality of things, and the outcomes such realities trigger. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">It is at this point in my contemplations that I feel the need to apologize to you Self.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">I’m sorry that at times you were shunned and overruled. Those were the times where I let superficial want take over, while your voice forever muted. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">I’m sorry for all the unnecessary internal wounds, you now bear as scars. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">I’m sorry for my disorientated states, where I left you an unfamiliar observer of my whirling.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">I’m sorry, the list is so long, that I cannot seem to recall all the things I should be sorry for.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">Sad, isn’t self, being reduced to this?<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">No? You don’t think so. Well, I do. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">But I promise you, I have learned much from those failings. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms"><u4:p></u4:p>I learned to love you more than all. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">I learned that you are all.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">And I’m just sorry it took me this long to come to realize such.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">Self, there comes a point in time, where insanity borders, and with its doubts baffles the mind. And at those times, it’s rather easy to erase limits, drop any borders and let loose.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">What’s the worst that could happen, Self?<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">My soul would suffocate and die?<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">No, it would eventually learn to feed off the chaos, and the world would continue spinning its same cycle.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">And then there are points in time, where reality hits at full force, and all comes to a nerve-wracking halt. The facts are all spewed like the whips of a leather lash. And denial becomes an ever taunting sin. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">It’s then that your importance grows self.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">It’s then where you come to find me, and push me forward, out of the void and into the lucid clearing. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">Thank you Self, for always being there.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">Every time, anytime and all the time.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">Because as I look around, I see no one here but you, Self.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">The rest are all residents of discontinuous scenery. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">All but you, Self.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms"><u4:p></u4:p>You have my endless love and gratitude, Self. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: arial;" face="trebuchet ms">I am forever yours.</p>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-18763747979261280262009-09-09T15:23:00.000-07:002009-10-02T04:56:23.699-07:00A Small Price To Pay.<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >For the first time, in a long time to come, the path in front of her came into focus.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >The past became a vague blemish of gray.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >And the air was forever tranquil. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >She tried to dress in black, but found herself attracted to those brighter shades - to those yellows and reds. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >A vibrant</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" > outside</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Her mind deduced she was better off.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Her eyes magnified indifference. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Her body felt forever light.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Her conscience numbed, retreating inwards.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Her inner self breathed its last words: “Rest in peace”, and then spoke no more. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >A still </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >inside</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >They clashed - stillness and vibrancy. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >She smiled and frowned throughout it all. It was all the same. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >They clashed again – vibrancy and stillness. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >She chuckled and wept throughout it all. It was all the same.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >A small price to pay, she thought. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >****</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >“What’s wrong?” a familiar voice asked.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >“My heart died,” she replied.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss.” the voice said.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >“I’m not. ‘tis not loss, but a great gain,” she claimed. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >“I see. Might I inquire as to how it died?” the voice implored.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >She shrugged, “the autopsy report declared its cause of death to be ‘over freezing’.”</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >****</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Yes, her heart died.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >And in its place lay a black veil in silence, recollecting memories of a colorful inside.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Yet, her outside is forever vibrant.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Her body forever light. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >And the air forever tranquil. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >A small price to pay indeed. </span>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-75948661090887724742009-09-02T13:45:00.000-07:002009-10-02T05:22:07.066-07:00The Boxer Effect.<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Why hello fellow earthlings that are way too cool to be on earth.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >About time for that new planet to appear and whisk us all away with its magical forces, eh?</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Anyway.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >So I was sitting in my overrated, life-sucking, death-advancing, sanity-stripping, soul-deteriorating, time and space –consuming eleven o’clock class.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >The walls are white, the tables are white. The ceiling is white. The tiles are white. The professor’s hair is white. Surprisingly though, the chairs are black. Talk about spur of the moment. Heh.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >My location? Second row to the right.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Why?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >'Cause I always sit in the middle row, 'cause I'm cool like that.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Nah. Its ‘cause in the third row, I wouldn’t think twice about falling asleep - to hell with decorum.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And first row. Well, first row is divided into two parts.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >First row left is saved for that special class of people who nod when the professor is talking and smile when he cracks a joke that is lame’s long lost ancestor and think no one can see them. Little do they know.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >First row right is saved for the imbeciles enough to show up very late.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Such detail, you say.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I like detail, so sue me. Hmph!</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >The row in front of me fills out to be an all testosterone infested row.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >So I sit, well more like wiggle around in my chair, to try and find that comfort zone. It doesn’t work, and I end up squirming like I have to pee the whole way through class. It’s not my fault the chairs are so hard!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I think they should adopt beanie bags, and screw ass-flattening chairs!</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >The lecture starts, and I can hear bits and pieces….</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Then fifteen minutes into it, my brain and ears just give way… and my eyes starts absorbing petty detail like how many lights there are in the classroom (12) and how many dots on each tile of the ceiling (45).</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I then look in front of me, and I’m blinded by an entire row of boxers surfacing to inhale fresh air. All colors, and sizes. I'm assuming boxers have one standard look/shape. If not, well...I don’t know ;( . Anyway... so a whole row of boxers! Imagine that.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >If I was any different, I’d blush and look away. Sadly, I’m not.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Instead, I realized that pubescent boys or ‘men’ (I believe that’s what they go by these days, correct me if I’m wrong), find, with great zeal, the concept of a shred of their boxers flowing out a very capital sex on stick idea.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Apparently their asses need to breathe? Meh.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And then, I get this idea, and it makes me all jumpy.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I’ll share I’ll share- I swear.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Here goes:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Imagine they have jokes (yes, little Timmy ones included), or little puzzles at the back of each pair of boxers?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I for one, would find myself forever entertained!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I mean, the boxer sticks out anyway...so it's just efficient use of material!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >As a result, when you look at someone's boxers you are no longer disgusted, but want to fixate them till you can coherently read the puzzle/joke.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And if they’ve got the right goods, in the correct proportions, you can check out their ass sans getting caught in flagrante delicto, and maybe ask them for the answer?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And thus concludes the Boxer Effect :)</span>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-22765389266218821912009-08-26T11:55:00.000-07:002009-09-09T15:32:28.397-07:00In Passing, One Day.<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >She saw the earth in passing one day, and asked after its greatest fear.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >The earth pondered, and then replied: "To remain still in one segment of time, and never progress. To be left behind - a traveler in my own land."</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >She saw the sun in passing one day, and asked after its greatest fear.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >The sun immediately answered: "A state of numbness, that no ray of warmth can ever penetrate through its shell of stillness. A state where heat is a solace beyond my reach."</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >She saw the moon in passing one day, and asked after its greatest fear.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >The moon heavily sighed and then said: "An ever encompassing darkness, where in exists no hope. It would wrap around you stealthily, till you are both one."</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >She saw the rain in passing one day, and asked after its greatest fear.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >The rain shivered, and with a far away look responded: "A dusty dryness so palpable, limiting all tactile sensory."</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >She saw herself in passing one day, and asked after its greatest fear.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >Herself fixated her, and asked her to follow.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >They stepped in front of a glass pane, and herself pointed at the face staring back. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >The empty dark brown eyes.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >The straight mouth.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >The taut skin. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >Her face. Her. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >She lifted her hand, and an identical hand lifted across the glass pane.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >Herself looked at her and whispered: "And now you know my greatest fear". And with that, Herself faded into the crowds. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" >She turned to the glass pane and stared momentarily, swallowed by two, familiar yet so alien dark brown pits.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" > </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;" > </span>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-83104999130920475962009-08-20T06:12:00.000-07:002009-08-30T15:42:10.096-07:00A Native Tongue.<p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Yes, its been a while.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">But I really have been busy.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Enjoy.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Carpe Diem</span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">;)</span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">____________________.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">"One loves with their heart," he proclaimed."Give me your heart and I'll give you mine." </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">A layer of silence settled down and thickened. Nothing was said. Yet, she spoke </span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">in a native tongue - that of silence.<br /></span></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /></span></span><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>One loves with their heart? </em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>The vital organ of life - that heart?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Give me your heart and I'll give you mine...</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>That heart serves only one purpose - that of keeping your temporary body alive. </em></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>A body that acts as a medium in which we 'live'.</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><br /></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>That heart is not really mine.</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>How can I give you something I do not own?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>The only thing anyone really owns is their soul.</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Still, what if you love someone with your heart, then when you no longer ‘live’, </em></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>does that mean you no longer love them?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>What if you give someone your heart, and they 'break' it, do you die?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>What if you want your heart back, but I want to keep it forever? What then? Do you die as well?<br /></em></span></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><br /></em></span></span><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>What if my heart has a mind of its own, and doesn't want to come back to me? Do I die?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>But if its not this literal, then what heart do you figuratively refer to? </em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><br /></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>What, then, do you really give someone you love?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Emotions? </em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Promises?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Hope?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Yet, emotions, grow, change, shrink, fade and disappear.</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Promises eventually become empty words.</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>And hope is scarce and indefinite- a glimpse of what could be.</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><br /></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>So when we speak of the heart do we refer to the design that we've </em></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>subconsciously sketched and associate with compassion? Are we talking about that 'heart'?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Where is this 'heart'?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Is it palpable?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Is it active?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Is it warm?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Do I have one?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Oh 'heart' of mine, do you hear me?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><br /></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Everyone has a heart. But does everyone have a 'heart'? </em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>In the same way, not everyone has compassion.</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Am I compassionate?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Do I deserve compassion?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><br /></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Then again, if you loved someone with your soul - does it last forever?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>It can't be eternal? Can it?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Surely the need to strive forward will cancel its perpetual state.</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Does a soul have a 'heart'?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Is that where you are, oh 'heart'?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>How do you love with your soul?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Do you give your soul?</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><br /></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>But my soul is me.</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>I can't give you me.</em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>I can only give myself me.</em></span></span></p><p><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><br /></em></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">But she spoke in a native tongue- that of silence.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Heed the silence and its message, he did not.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Hear its whisper, he could not.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Thus, he waited.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">And she finally replied: "I'm afraid I can't take your heart: I don't have space enough for two. I can't give you my own for I've yet to find what that really is."</span></span></p>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-84088607122092000292009-08-14T04:51:00.001-07:002009-08-30T15:10:00.254-07:00Maybe Is No Certainly.<p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can bring me back, you say.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can save my lost soul.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can bring out that shy me.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can please my inner child.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can help my battered self.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can restore my beliefs.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can attempt to revive those parts I put six feet under. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can make everything all well again.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can aid me in getting through this, you assure me.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can help me and I'll make it.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can try your hardest.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can let me dream again, you plead.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can bring back my innocence.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can dim the past.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can open my eyes.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe you can bring me back, you say yet again.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">But then again, maybe you can't, I say at last.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Because 'Maybe' is no certainly. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">'Maybe' is that hidden hope. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">'Maybe' is for the children of tomorrow.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I believe in now. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">'Cause that's all I have.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">'Maybe' is no certainly.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-family:verdana;">And so 'Maybe' isn't for me.</span></span><br /></p>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-58122995616711865482009-08-13T07:54:00.000-07:002009-08-30T15:11:14.847-07:00So in Sync.<span style="font-family:verdana;">Hello there. *waves*<br /><br />Before you judge the title I tell you this: No I'm not recruiting for a new boy band. I swear! <br /><br />Moving on.<br /><br />So, the other day I was out with a group of friends. And one of my friend's brother says something dirty. And mind you, it was subtle - he really wasn't holding a sign that says: "Perverted stuff, coming up".<br /><br />The minute it came out of his mouth, an entire circuit of fluorescent tube lights just went on in my brain. DING DING DING.<br /><br />It's not that I have a dirty mind - honest to God - I can just totally pick up on the perverted stuff. They're sort of transmitted at the same frequency that my brain picks up.<br /><br /><br />Wow. That frequency stuff, brought back to life a complete moving diorama of my physics class. *chants "I'm a survivor, I'm gonna make it"* Phew.<br /><br />Anyway. That incident got me thinking about how my brain became so in sync with the perverseness.<br /><br />And today, I have made a great discovery.<br /><br />Warning: If you do not wish to take a walk down memory lane - close window now.<br /><br />My, My. You're still here? You brave soul. <br /><br />Just keep in mind that just 'cause you had Lasik surgery doesn't mean we can't remember the pair of wheels on your face back in the old days ;)<br /><br />So...<br /><br />Remember back in the third grade, when you used to carry your<br />a) Scooby-doo/TMNT/Tom & Jerry lunch box if you were cool.<br />b) Barbie if you were dosed with extra X chromosomes.<br />c) Power Rangers/Batman if you were a mama's boy or a dyke.<br /><br />proudly and walk to the dingy school bus and sit according to your level of coolness?<br /></span><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">(How this was determined escapes me at the moment.) </span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Oh come on, you must be able to recall this sort of stuff!<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">There were all these other kids with you.<br /></span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">And there was Billy. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">You see Billy, but Billy is so far away. (Mind you, Billy can be a girl too, as in my case)</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Now. Billy was that kid at the back of bus - the one radiating out raw coolness. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">And Billy was all-knowing back then.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">The one with the big saucy mouth the million and two innuendos.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Everyone has at least one memory of Billy.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">For Billy taught you all.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Your mom remembers Billy.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Because you asked her if what Billy said what true.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">She probably denied it, blushed a profuse hue of red, and you were grounded for no reason at all.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">'She lies,' Billy told you.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">And lie she did.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">But Billy told you the truth.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Billy took away your innocence.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Billly made your eyes pop.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Billy changed your life.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">After that, you became officially synced. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Courtesy of Billy and Sons.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Remember that Billy? </span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Yeah *nods*, me too.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">I wonder where Billy is now?</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Hmm...</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">My theory?</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Your parents probably paid Billy to teach you all that stuff, so they wouldn't have to do it themselves AND they got to punish you regardless :) </span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">As for Billy…well Billy's training his/her kid. After all, somebody's got to keep the </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">family business running.<br /></span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />------------------<br />P.S<br /><br />Before I wrote all this down, I called my favorite cousin.<br />And told him all about Billy and my theory.<br />After literally 10 minutes of him laughing at me, he goes: "Yeah. I miss my being Billy days."<br /><br />Well, no shocker there.<br />Really.<br />I couldn't even pretend.<br /><br />*sigh*.</span>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-42447179100882208222009-08-12T04:12:00.000-07:002009-08-14T08:02:14.956-07:00The Secret of The World.<span style="color:#990000;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The secret of the world lies not buried deep within its bowels.<br /> <br />It does not roam the skies, nor wander amongst us.<br /><br />The secret of the world is not found in an hidden truth. <br /><br />It does not make any sound.<br /><br />The secret of the world is not heavily guarded. <br /><br />It does not wish to remain a secret any longer.<br /><br />The secret of the world offers little - yet to some it is all. <br /><br /><br />***<br /><br />And one day the world breathed its secret: <br /><br /><em>"My secret lies in an ultimate balance - a balance between letting go and holding on."</em><br /><br /><br />It went unheard. A forever dying echo.<br /><br /><br /><br />But you hear it now. <br /><br />And you now know <em>the world's secret</em>.</span></span>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-11211743066921165302009-08-09T09:07:00.000-07:002009-08-11T05:00:46.148-07:00Boredom, Amongst Other Things.<p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Is it just me, or is boredom the new swine flu?</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">I'm dead serious when I say that boredom is an epidemic as old as time.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">It infects you slowly until you become an inert chunk of matter lying about.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">So I guess you have, by now, concluded that I am overly bored.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">I feel like a chicken nugget.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">And the oil they fry the nuggets in, is the boredom.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">So I'm frying in boredom.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Does that even make sense?</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">I fail to care at the moment.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">It's not like I have nothing to do.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">No. I have shitloads on top of shitloads. In fact, </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">if you collected all the shit at the zoo from all the animals and piled it up it </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">would amount to no where near the pile of shitload I have to do.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">And still I don't do them.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">I procrastinate in buckets.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">No not buckets - barrels. Giant big ass barrels.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Yeah, I'm just really bored. Did I mention that? Because if I didn't - well, I'm so </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">friggin' bored, I could not only watch a Teletubbies episode, but show genuine interest AND overlook all the homosexual underplay.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Really.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">But I will not, courtesy of the shred of sanity I am clutching on to.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Everything bores me.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">And Puhleeze - wipe that ''ungrateful piece of meat' glare off your face, because </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">if you made it this far into the post then I've got news for ya: you're just as goddman bored.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Yeah. Anyway. That was me exploring my boredomeness. I know, I know - not a real word.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Do I care?</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Nah.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Do you care?</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Nah.<br /></span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />P.S I'm on my phone. Excuse the retarded spaces out of no where. </span>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-16741610111657475042009-08-08T05:30:00.000-07:002009-08-10T02:22:41.865-07:00If Only For A While.<span style="font-family:verdana;">A small capture of human nature.<br />Maybe you can relate, and maybe you can't.<br /><br /><strong>Carpe Diem ;)</strong><br />_________________________________________________________________<br /><br />Climbing the stairs two at a time, she made it to her room.<br /><br />She changed into more comfortable clothes, and threw herself down on the bed, closing her eyes in attempt to yield to the enticing whispers of sleep. <br /><br />Ah, yes. That ever elusive sleep. The last she indulged in sleep was quite sometime back. If only she could count the hours of stolen slumber and sleep them all in one go. <br /><br />A knock penetrated through her last thoughts and echoed within the confines of her head. <br /><br />"Yes?" she answered drowsily.<br />"You're sleeping?" her mother asked in all inquisitiveness.<br />"Mhm, I'm drained," she explained.<br />"Before you sleep, go pray first."<br />"Yeah, okay," she let that demand blur by, as if unimportant.<br /><br />After her mother left the room, she got up, went to get her prayer things and prayer carpet. She arranged them in such a manner where it would look like she prayed, and fully gave in to those tempting whispers.<br /><br />While she still resided in the realm of sleep, her mother came back in once again to be greeted by the orchestrated prayer scene. Her chest swelled of pride as she said more to herself than anything else, "Mashalla 3a binti," and then quietly left. <br /><br />She woke up a while later, feeling less drained, yet not fully restored. Still, some sleep was better than none. Following a lifetime tradition, she gathered the sustenance of her life, or the 'goods' as she liked to call them from the kitchen storage. They consisted of deceptive neglected masses of cholesterol disguised as Lays Salt and Vinegar, Skittles, and Reese's cups. But who could ever resist them? Evil, yet blissful.<br /><br />She turned on her laptop, watched as the msn icons twirled together harmoniously before loading her contacts. It was a waste time more than anything, she knew - but it was a habit. An old habit. Old habits don't really ever die.<br /><br />The first 'ding' came, alerting her that she had one pending conversation. Many dings later, juggling Facebook and blogging in between, she had had enough conversations to open her own version of Communications Central. <br /><br />Her father came in to check on her, having just flown home, and asked if she prayed. Again, she pointed to the set up carpet and praying things from earlier.<br /><br />"I'm very proud of you, my eldest," his voice full of love. "You work hard, and with your prayer, Allah y3een, you'll see."<br /><br />She smiled, gave him a peck on the cheek and expressed her love for him. With that, he left. And once again, she was alone in her room to do her work. Oh, and she not only did it, but she excelled at it too. True, her time management could have been better, but she got it done regardless. <br /><br />At 2:00 in the morning, she called it a night. <br /><br />And thus ends her day, only to be replayed again tomorrow, and the day after...<br /><br />*****<br /><br />She woke up one morning to be welcomed by the day of her first final.<br />She showered, and dressed.<br />She had her morning latte, drinking along a healthy dose of nervousness with it.<br /><br />And then she remembered that today was one of those couple of days during the year- one day of those few.<br /><br />She headed back upstairs, and found her praying things set up as habit dictates them to look as if she prayed. She faced her carpet and began to pray for her success and triumph. <br /><br />Yes, today was one day of those few. A day where old habits die - if only for a small while. </span>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-34495910094168125932009-08-04T06:54:00.000-07:002009-08-11T04:57:38.381-07:00Just A Stop.<p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Since I completely trashed my last post with my rambelings, I'll give this one a break.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">I found no better way to convey what I want to say than through this short dialogue. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Some things are meant to be but stops, to discover a little more about who you </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">are and move on to put your mark else where. Moreover, happiness, completion and what not, does not lie in another individual. Actually, they lie within ourselves. Sometimes our interaction with others is a way we subconsiously communicate to the self- a call to look beyond the superficial image and claim our own happiness. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">In the end, life is all about self discovery. The people you meet, and the places </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">you go, are but littles of peices of yourself, either yet unfound or yet to be</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> understood. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><p><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;">Carpe Diem ;)</span></strong></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">_________________________________________________________________</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"No No No. That wasn't how it was supposed to happen".</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"But it’s the way it happened nonetheless."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"It was great. It was supposed to grow, and develop and become something nice."</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Well, it didn't grow. It ended instead."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Ugh. Aren't you mad, sad, frustrated?"</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Should I be?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Yes. Yes you should be. It was perfect. It was supposed to last."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Perfect was far from what it was. And last, it did not".</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Fine. He was perfect"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"No. He has his flaws."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Okay. You were perfect for each other."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Apparently, life doesn't agree with you on that point."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"I don't care about life. Do you agree with me on that point?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"No, sadly I don't either."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Why the hell not?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Because he resurrects an old part of me that drags me farther away from the me I want to be."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Yeah, but it's all you in the end you know - past and present. Besides, everything else was fine."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Maybe. But only because you couldn't see the invisible barriers."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Barriers are nothing, if not made to make it all harder. But you overcome them."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"What if I secretly don't want to? Because they provide a rare comfort as opposed to vulnerability?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Shouldn't you be feeling crushed?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Not really, no."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"I know I would be."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"No one has that kind of power over me. It's lethal."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Then how are you feeling?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"A part of my mind mourns the loss of a worthy adversary.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">It will wear black for </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">a</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">long while. But a bigger part of my mind claims its need</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">to make new footprints along a fresh path."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"So this was all just a place where you left footprints?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"I guess"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"I fail to understand. You finally meet someone you can bond with on that high </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">up plane. And when it's over. You're okay."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"I'm not okay. I'm just aware that it has happened and is no longer happening."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Listen, things don't just 'happen' like that. You were fine, happy for a while. It </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">should of continued being happy."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Things always 'happen' just like that. A mere action, a spoken word or a perception can change larger outcomes." </span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Look just tell me really, what happened?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"It's simple really. I am who I am, right? Yet, I am not enough of who I want to </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">be. Me and him was just another way for me to find out more about the person </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">that I am, as opposed to the one that I want to be . And when I found out all I needed to know, then that just marked the end."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"You know I hate when you go all philosophical on my ass."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"No. I'm saying he was just a stop, as nice of a stop as it was - he wasn't my </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">destination. Just a stop."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Like a bus?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Ugh. You have a very skilled way of just killing everything."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"And you have a very skilled way of just being numb. Feel a little."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"I try feel enough. Not more, not less. Just enough to keep me going."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Uhuh. Brick"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"I beg to differ."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Block of steel."</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Dropping topic."</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-3799832109831399092009-07-29T10:02:00.000-07:002009-08-11T05:03:21.006-07:00A True Liberation.<span style="font-family:verdana;">Hello =)<br /><br />I'm worried :/. <br /><br />Everything is falling! <br /><br />And no I don’t mean that in the "the whole world is going to end because I can’t live without him, and she backstabbed me, and they want my popularity and my heel snapped and my make up is ruined and I can't find anything to wear and the whole world is going to end just because " sense. <br />*rolls eyes at the excess of melodrama and the fact that some people out there do use this when referring to the phrase ‘everything is falling’*. Oww, eyeball burn (?).<br /><br />What I really mean is that everything is falling- literally! <br />I think I have one of those accelerated aging hormones :S.<br /><br />I swear, every time I shower, I shed hair like a dog! It just scares me :(. And every time I see the hair fall shampoo ads, I go and buy the shampoo, to find out its worse than the previous one. *Sigh*. The stupid things I do.<br /><br />And my nails! They just grow too fast and chip off.<br />I tell ya! Everything is falling off!<br /><br />Leaving my sad case of nails aside, but not the topic of nails - I shudder in disgust whenever I see a guy with a long ass pinkie nail, and the rest of his nails are nicely trimmed. It's nasty. 'Cause every time I see that nail, and it’s just that one nail, I imagine it being scratched across a chalkboard. *goosebumps*. Wow, overuse of 'nail' much? Meh.<br /><br />Anyway. Way too much oversharing. The above is of zero relation to the actual post. So just forget about all that. Yes, yes, the nails, the hair and the hormones.<br /><br />Below, are my thoughts on a matter that has intrigued me of the late. <br />Hope it makes sense. <br /><br /></span><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong>Carpe Diem ;)</strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">_________________________________________________________________</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;">We exit, suspended in time and space. We occupy. We breathe.<br /></span><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">That's what the human being is.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Yet the human being lives in his mind, not his heart. A mind composed of both </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">the conscious and the subconscious. He lives in his consciousness, where his thoughts and feelings act as a silent guide.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">His consciousness and subconcsiousness work together, side by side.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">The consciousness in its acute sense of awareness, is where he is most alert.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">The subconscious is where the rationality of things pales - a part of the mind yet unknown. It's where his memories recollect. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Together, they form the greatest optical illusion of all time. One that cannot be matched. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">An illusion where his desires and realties combat. Where his ignorance </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">sometimes prevails.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Where his quest for his personal truth begins and ends. Where his affections arise. Where his morals, or lack of are engrained. Where his dreams float and his goals are formed. Where his ambitions are pursued, and his failures and sucesses are reflected upon. Where his affections grow.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">It's his inner security. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">It's his greatest prison.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Invisible bars that cage him in, allowing him to retreat in his shell, restricted to his own pleas and cravings. To select and bestow his affection to those 'special' few.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Its where his personal bias resides and nourishes. <br /></span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">****</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">We all self indulge in our illusions. They make the world a prettier place. But pretty is nothing when compared to the purity of things. To the clarity and correctness which we overlook. A purity shielded by our perception.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">To seek true freedom, is not to be legal. Nor to be accepted in society. Nor to be </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">allowed to walk the earth as one pleases. Nor does it lie in being able to say </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">what comes to mind.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">No. True freedom lies in the liberation of the mind. It lies in stepping outside of </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">the bars, penetrating the illusion and seeing our suspension in time and space as a whole - a chance to experience one's self with in a system. A system known to us as 'the universe'. A system of which we are a part, but nothing without. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Agreed. Such freedom is asymptotic in its very nature. But we can get very close. </span></p>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6667360810770311837.post-18862866519811678612009-07-20T06:09:00.000-07:002009-08-11T05:13:19.383-07:00An Early Ultimatum.<span style="font-family:verdana;">So I was sent to my room, after being scolded for apparently not having any sense of direction, to develop a vision and plan ahead. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Nothing is wrong with my vision: wait until my series download, and then watch them. Oh, and make it through Uni alive.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">As for planning ahead. Well I'll give you planning ahead:</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">1. Now it’s the uni.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">2. Next its cats, romance novels and cookie dough ice cream. Maybe work.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">3. And then, guess what? I'm getting married. And I'm doing it on my own terms too. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">It can't be that hard. I mean, please: If I can live with the cats, I can live with the hubby too. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Marriage:</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> When- n/a</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Where- Preferably on some set in Bollywood ;)</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> How -n/a</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Who - TBA.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">=). </span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">This is me making provision for my future:</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">_________________________________________________________________</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Hey Honey aka Hubby!</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Wherever you are.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Whoever you might be.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I decided to write you. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Why you ask?</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I'm late for everything. Late for applying to uni. Late to uni. Late to the airpor</span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">(I'm the person who's name you hear being called out in the speaker asking me to *hurry my ass up and get on the goddman plane*). I'm late growing my wisdom teeth (they haven't showed up yet). I'm late remembering birthdays.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So yeah. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I'm being early for once.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">And I'm writing to you.</span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">You know. Just so you're prepared.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">And so I have the satisfaction of being early!</span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Weird, you say.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Mutually beneficial, I reply.</span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></span><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So yes. Hi there honey.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Oh, consider yourself lucky, 'cause 'honey' is all the endearment you're ever going </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">to get from these lips of mine. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">"Love" *snorts* - The only person I call love, is when I'm in a meeting with me, myself and I. They're the love.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">"Baby" - If I call you that, then what I am going to call the baby we're going to </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">procreate?</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">"My Other half" - *pfft*. I was born complete. The first half is me. The second half is me. A half and a half, well that makes a whole me =). </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></span><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">"My Soul Mate" - Lucky for you I don't believe in that crap, honey, because well that might mean when I marry you, and you're not my soul mate then I'll be miserable and blame you. And that won't be your cup tea. Hell, it won't even be close to your glass of guava juice. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">"Dear" - That's what I plan on calling the baby when she/he grows up.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">There, now that's all settled - and no hard feelings honey, all this is for our future happines, whenever that might be - we can get to the details.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Hmm. Yes. The details.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Honey, do me a favor. Go to www.dictionary.com and look up 'marry'. </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">You'll get something like this:</span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">"mar·ry [márree] - transitive verb- to join two people in marriage: to officiate at somebody's marriage ceremony and give legal sanction or a religious blessing to the marriage."</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Now read that again honey.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">And then make sure you never associate that with the word 'marry'. Ever. 'Cause guess what? This time the dictionary's wrong!</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Here's what 'marry' really means and if I were you, I would start memorizing:</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">"mar·ry [márree] - transitive verb - to share your life with someone, making every </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">single nano-second matter. They become your paparazzi and you in turn become </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">theirs, just no where near as annoying. You don't expect anything out of them that you're not willing to do either. You treat them as your equal, in the full </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">meaning of the word. And never ever give them the bullshit about the men women issue."</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Commit that to memory honey.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Oh, and notice how I didn't change the 'transitive verb' part - that's because </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">that's what it is. When and if its over honey, you'll just be another transition to go through. Don't for a second think my life will end with you. Save that idea for the 1000 episode Mexican soaps. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So where was I?</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Oh yes- When I marry you, don’t for a second think you can go Macho on my ass. I'll just go all blowtorch on your balls =). I don't have any, but believe me; I can imagine it would kill. De-manned. Impotent for life. So think twice honey before you do something stupid like that. Your balls are on the line. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Speaking of balls honey, when we pro-create, I want you experienced honey, so </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">you can take me high up to the seventh sky.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Oh, and honey try showing those balls of your to anyone else when I marry you, </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">and guess what you'll be. Yup, you got it. A eunuch. Aka castrated human male. And I'll keep ‘em in a jar for you to look at. And when they shrivel up and die, remember that's what happens when you smother a rose in a jar too. And right again honey, I'm the rose and you're the jar. So don't smother me honey, I don't like it. I need my air and space, so don't take ‘em from me. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">What's more, you have to get my dry sarcasm honey. Because it's a dry as saw </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">dust right now, and I don't know what state it will be in when I marry you. But one thing's for sure - it'll only get drier :p</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Also, honey, you can't tell me what to do, unless you want me telling what you do. That's what kids are for honey. Tell them what to do. </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I'll tell you a secret honey: they made disobedience and then they made me :P. So, </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I'll be in charge of what I do.</span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> Guide me- sure. Help me out- no problem. Give me your opinion -with arms wide open.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">You don't have to love me honey, you just have to get me. Love alone is for fools. You just have to match me stroke for stroke every step of our time together- how ever long that might be - and throw back at me my caustic remarks with corrosive ones of your own. You have to neutralize me honey. That's all I'm asking. If you want to love me too, well I'll consider it a bonus, and you a paragon of generosity. And if that happens, then I'll negotiate with me, myself and I, and I'll try to give you a small corner of my heart. I can't promise you anything but a corner. And even that you'll probably have to work overtime to earn - extra nightshifts; p etc. Maybe you'll slowly work your way up. Who knows honey. Anything is possible. The Jonas Brothers are a hit band, and Hannah Montanna is not just your ordinary cowgirl - or so I'm told. See, I told you anything is possible. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">And that little corner of my heart's got no warranty, honey. 'Cause once you damage it, you can't just go back and fix it. Damage it, and the Wrath of Con will be something bearable, by far. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So don't damage it honey. Take good care of it. It's that simple really. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">But don't worry honey. This is just an early ultimatum - a life buoy if you must. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">How considerate of me, you say.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I know, I reply. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Honey, its common sense. Handle me properly, and I'll give you wings. </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Fail to do so, and an early retirement to the underworld might not seem like such a bad idea.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">That's all I really have to say for now, honey.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Thanks for listening honey.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Till we meet officially honey ;)</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Bye Bye honey. </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">___________________________________________________________________</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Future outlook: Promising? Yes? No? Meh. I tried.</span></span></p>Carpe Diemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06846231532839945558noreply@blogger.com6