كُسر الصمت في جو غائم
بزئير معدة تشكو كالصائم
تصبو لأكل شيء ملائم
بقرة, دجاجة أو حي كائن
(!قُتل ليُسكت الكلب النائم (معدتي
لكن موعد الغذاء مع غير المؤمن
و الحديث المطوَل بصيغة المتشائم
لم يحن بعد...و الجو غائم
selected works of the self-indulgent rantings and ravings of a deranged pseudo-feminist...(and works she admires) and, no, I don't take myself too seriously!
كُسر الصمت في جو غائم
بزئير معدة تشكو كالصائم
تصبو لأكل شيء ملائم
بقرة, دجاجة أو حي كائن
(!قُتل ليُسكت الكلب النائم (معدتي
لكن موعد الغذاء مع غير المؤمن
و الحديث المطوَل بصيغة المتشائم
لم يحن بعد...و الجو غائم
I like meeting strangers, I like talking till sunrise, I like feeling like a kid again, I like sticking my toes in the sand, I like finding all the layers in the person in front of me, I like being surprised by a misconception, I like being right about things without knowing it, I like that there might be nothing more to it, I like that I don’t particularly care, I like having shared a moment.
I don’t like how things get clearer when the sun’s out…and there are people all around peering into your moment…
…but it’s still my moment
Fuck you. Fuck you for getting inside my head. Fuck you for haunting my subconscious sleep. Fuck you for being in my conscious. Fuck you.
Fuck you. Fuck you for telling me everything I wanted to hear. Fuck you for taking it all back. Fuck you for moving on without batting an eyelash. Fuck you.
Fuck you. Fuck you for being so nice. Fuck you for being an asshole. Fuck you for being everything in between. Fuck you.
Fuck you. Fuck you for ruining other guys for me. Fuck you for breaking my one month rule. Fuck you for snaking your way back in. Fuck you.
Fuck you. Fuck you for every time you weren’t there for me. Fuck you for the one time you were there. Fuck you for being there when I didn’t want it. Fuck you.
Fuck you. Fuck you for breaking my heart. Fuck you for blaming me for it. Fuck you for doing it all in a half-assed way. Fuck you.
Fuck me for ever wanting you back. Fuck. Show me you’re not worth it.
No, fuck you, ya binit…get it together already…
out of the shared selfishness of intimacy….
my heart no longer pounds
NOW…
onto better things
That one person is given the power to decide for all who you are
That people will believe what they are told about you
That you can feel it & pretend it’s not happening
That a story can get so twisted without words
That a reputation may make or break you
That you let it happen
That it is so common
That it is the norm
That it happens
That it is…
.
.
.
….is disgusting
Woe not the treachery of time; the bodies of lions have long been danced upon by dogs - Though they intend to rise above their masters, lions will remain lions, and dogs will remain dogs.
…so you start writing, just like that, mid-sentence, mid-thought, mid-???…fumbling blindly with a pen & paper (not metaphorically blindly, although…) in a darkened corner of your room, late at night, sacrificing legibility for the sake of not interrupting your flow…there’s something about light that a moment in space & time when you need things to just be still for a moment so you can gather all these…emotions, sensory inputs…inputs, nuances…no interruptions…which also explains the need for a pen & paper over your keyboard…your keyboards kills – scratch that – your keyboard stifles something about the whole process that, for some reason, needs to feel more organic…hell, if I had a twig and some fresh mud, I’d be writing in that instead. Even charcoal on a cave wall must have seemed a little too advanced for early man at some point in histo…at some point in this time-loop…continuum? Then, just as easily, randomly as it started in the middle of a…something…just as easily, it all comes to an abrupt -
NB: Wrote this while half asleep, sorry…not just barely legible, but also barely comprehensible!
Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Pass it on to 12 people you like and include me. You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "My Life According to (BAND NAME)"
Pick Your Artist:
Pearl Jam
Are You Male or Female?
Daughter
Describe Yourself:
Given to fly
How Do You Feel?
Rockin’ in the free world
(Ok, technically they covered that song)
Describe Where You Currently Live:
Insignificance
If You Could Go Anywhere, Where Would You Go?
In my tree
Your Favourite Form Of Transportation:
Footsteps
Your Best Friends :
Strangest tribe
Your Favouite Colour Is:
Yellow ledbetter (or) Black
What's The Weather Like?
Even flow
Favourite Time Of Day:
Low light
If Your Life Was A TV Show, What Would It Be Called?
Nothing as it seems
What Is Life For You?
Long road
Your Relationships: Push me, pull me
Last: Parting ways (or) animal (!)
Looking For: State of love and trust (or) betterman
Have: Nothingman (lol)
Wouldn't Mind: Fuckin up
Your fear: Hard to imagine
What Is The Best Advice You Have To Give?
Spin the black circle (the music will save you)
If You Could Change Your Name, What Would You Change It To?
Aye davanita
Thought For The Day:
Timeless melody
How would you like to die:
Release
My Soul's Present Condition:
I am mine
My Motto:
Why go?
I hope you find peace someday soon. I’m not in a hurry to see you go, but you’ve given as much to life as one to give, and you’ve passed on all a woman can. It’s your turn to rest and you deserve it. I love you.
Whether that day is today or 10 years from today, I’ll be sorry to see you go. But it’s your turn to rest and you’ve earned it. I love you. Now and always.
I wish you serenity.
*This day has come and gone, and we couldn't be happier for you, teta...but know that your 7 crazy children and their 22 crazier offspring will miss you sorely.
THINGS MY SON SHOULD KNOW AFTER I’VE DIED
by Brian Trimboli
I was young once. I dug holes
near a canal and almost drowned.
I filled notebooks with words
as carefully as a hunter loads his shotgun.
I had a father also, and I came second to an addiction.
I spent a summer swallowing seeds
and nothing ever grew in my stomach.
Every woman I kissed,
I kissed as if I loved her.
My left and right hands were rivals.
After I hit puberty, I was kicked out of my parents’ house
at least twice a year. No matter when you receive this
there was music playing now.
Your grandfather isn’t
my father. I chose to do something with my life
that I knew I could fail at.
I spent my whole life walking
and hid such colorful wings.
I don’t want babies, keep you period to yourself, you merciless bitch!
Also: OUCH!
“I don't have a girlfriend. But I do know a woman who'd be mad at me for saying that.” – Mitch Hedberg
I’ve been told that I can be very hard on people…and I’d have to admit that it’s true. I might not have seen it at first, but I suppose I am a very principled person; even if I do have a set of principles very distinctly different from most.
I realize, though, that I’m only hard on people that I care about. Brutally honest, maybe, because that’s the only way I know how to make a point or…express the gravity of a situation.
Maybe I think you’re worth taking the time to help you become a better person. Why would I waste all that energy (and risk of alienating myself from society) if I didn’t think there was potential for more in you? Do I expect too much of people? Sometimes I wish people would do the same for me, only every else seems too afraid.
So many people have said the words “I love you just the way you are”. Bullshit. Everyone can be a better version of themselves. Everyone.
I prefer to say “I love you. So you need to hear this now, and I’m not so sorry that it’s going to hurt.”
Fear of the consequences = bad reason not to make a decision.
I’m not asking much of the world, but I was raised on honesty. I’m not saying I’ve never told a white lie (God, the blank canvases I could cover with my white lies); but I don’t recall ever lying about something I thought really mattered…
A little honesty can’t kill you. It might get you in a fuckload of trouble, but Goddamn can’t you see the shitstorms that come wailing on you when you try to cover something up?
I cannot respect a liar…I think the filthiest thing you can do to someone is withhold their right to the truth.
If not for the sake of principle, then for the sake of basic decency: when you lie to someone and you expect them to believe it, isn’t that just a huge insult to their intelligence?
Do I have trust issues? Yes. But they’re not based on thin air.
It seems I’ve forgotten how to listen – or…
I was once the vessel of your endless bounding emotions, my friends – you came to me.
Now I fear I’m falling deeper into myself: becoming a model of a person I might one day hate. Hold your tongue and learn to absorb, to listen, to want & to need to be a vessel again.
My words run from me not because I don’t want to listen, but because I have so much I want to say. I’m sorry, I’m interrupting again; speak.
This is my therapy. I speak. I cry. I manifest my emotions in a tangible form. Only then are they out of me, no longer trapped. And then I am at ease. And then I am sure.
"Most men are unprepared to meet you."
"I know, isn't it hilarious? It's like watching someone fall down a flight of stairs, except the stairs are their ego and I'm the cold hard reality that is the floor."
We are all alone, together.
Each of us furiously working towards our selfish ends...
We are all alone.
So let's be alone, together.
I can't make promises to help you.
But I can promise not to get in your way.
I only worry about my own well-being (physical, mental and emotional) because I can't expect you to do that for anyone else but yourself...
So take good care of yourself.
And I'll take good care of myself.
But we'll do it together.
Solidarity in solitude? Absolutely.
I'm in the worst place I can imagine. That stupid, selfish, dark loop of self-indulgent depressive bullshit.
Nothing is going right. Nobody is treating me well. The world will not embrace me.
I am not a functioning and accepted part of the universe.
I am the loose screw that rattles in a piece of still-functioning machinery. I am the broken filament amongst the millions of lighted bulbs on a marquee.
By my own hand, I am but an outsider on the inside.
So, my mind, will you let me resolve to be happy again?
I think it's time we rejoin and restructure and force our way back in. I'm ready to be stable again.
Please.
No, it's not a cuss word (actually, that really depends on your relationship with the concept of it). What I'm talking about is...(no, wrong again, not love)...this is about LUST...
What an absolute waste of time and energy.
What a fleeting, fickle, empty "emotion".
What a way to make you forget and fall.
What?
Words mean so little when you're both all caught up in it.
Where are your words when you are sober?
...don't hold my hand...
People tend to forget that there is a distinct & discernable difference between God and organized religion. The two don't have to be mutually exclusive...but they can be :)
...and, for the record, I believe in God...and I don't think that's an entity that has to be found. Like you said, God and I, we are one and the same...whereas, religion, as it has come to be interpreted and practiced, has very little to do with that relationship.
By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying -
Lady make a note of this:
One of you is lying.
-Dorothy Parker