Its nice to finally have my girlfriend be able to come out and do something with my bestfriend at the same time.
I am relieved.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
I didn't want to tell you then, I was worried it would upset you. Seeing as you have tomorrow off I don't feel so bad saying it now.
I traded shifts with Mitch so I could have Sunday off.
I'll see you tomorrow. I'll give you a call and we'll sort it all out so we can meet up with J and L and see our movie.
I love you Devon.
I traded shifts with Mitch so I could have Sunday off.
I'll see you tomorrow. I'll give you a call and we'll sort it all out so we can meet up with J and L and see our movie.
I love you Devon.
Friday, January 30, 2009
I won't say a word to you
If you will listen to my silence
I won't walk a mile to reach you
If you'll stand beside me
I won't remind you of anything
Since you always remind me
I won't hold your hand
Because its already wrapped around me
I won't kiss your cheek
Because I'm too busy being kissed by you.
Mariya made me laugh today. So she's bagging for me after a couple of carts of people who had WAY more items then 12 got into my express line. We're kind of goofing off and stuff and I make a joke that, "Every woman I've ever met has it out to aggrivate me!" and she was like, "Its because its fun!" and I was like, "I think its because I'm cute when I'm angry." And she was like, "No you're not! You're not cute at all." and I was like, "Whatever, I'm just so cute you can't notice it." Then she was like, "Gosh, how could anyone stand being around you!" jokingly of course and I was like, "It takes a lot of patience and skill."
"Your girlfriend should get a medal!"
Then we started talking about me and you haha. She was suddenly all curious as to how long we'd been dating and stuff. It was kinda fun.
If you will listen to my silence
I won't walk a mile to reach you
If you'll stand beside me
I won't remind you of anything
Since you always remind me
I won't hold your hand
Because its already wrapped around me
I won't kiss your cheek
Because I'm too busy being kissed by you.
Mariya made me laugh today. So she's bagging for me after a couple of carts of people who had WAY more items then 12 got into my express line. We're kind of goofing off and stuff and I make a joke that, "Every woman I've ever met has it out to aggrivate me!" and she was like, "Its because its fun!" and I was like, "I think its because I'm cute when I'm angry." And she was like, "No you're not! You're not cute at all." and I was like, "Whatever, I'm just so cute you can't notice it." Then she was like, "Gosh, how could anyone stand being around you!" jokingly of course and I was like, "It takes a lot of patience and skill."
"Your girlfriend should get a medal!"
Then we started talking about me and you haha. She was suddenly all curious as to how long we'd been dating and stuff. It was kinda fun.
Together they sat quietly in the ravaged ruins of the library. (Expand on imagery here.)
Many a great book once found its home on the shelves for whomever might choose to grace this place with their scholarly pursuits. Since the bomb however, people didn't come here for anything. There weren't any supplies to be had and most of the books had been burnt beyond repair or recognition.
(omit)Still, that hadn't stopped those two from sneaking in that night.
A small fire hung near their makeshift camp, nestled amongst the bookshelves between fiction and romance. (Expand)
Half-burnt scraps were piling up beside them as the taller of the two, a brown haired boy, sifted through book after book, searching for any readable pages. Laying, curled around his shape, but not touching him, was a girl of similar age. Her eyes were closed and her hair was chopped short, taking on the ragged look that often hangs with those who survive and care nothing for physical beauty. Yet, she seemed beautiful for a moment as she curled near the boy, soaking in the warmth from the fire and his body. She smiled occasionally as well, although from far off one could never notice the casual beauty that accompanied such a thing, nor the reason for the smiles. (elaborate/expand)
(add paragraph or two on boy)
See, every time the boy found a page or two, even just a passage, of unburnt text, he would softly clear his throat. Giving it a look over for clarity, he would read it with as intriguing a tone as he could muster. Of course some of the sentences didn't seem to fit together, in fact they hardly ever seemed to come up with an intelligible meaning. Yet, between these two, it was like its own secret story, understood only by them. they enjoyed it, if not for the creativity of it all, simply to spend a moment of peace listening to the voice or sigh of another person.
Eventually, the girl pulled herself closer to the boy, laying so that she could place her head in his lap once she felt he'd found a suitably unharmed book. Tonight, he had scavenged the entire climax of some long forgotten fantasy novel. Some chivalrous peice involving mice and rabbits and badgers and hares and other manner of animals which had not survived the bombs. Still, holding the spine of the book with his left hand, the boy read aloud each sentence. He spoke no louder than was nesscessary for the girl to hear him as he gently ran his spare hand through her hair. Slowly, his voice faded until it dropped into silence; the steady breathing of the girl in his lap evidence that she had drifted to sleep. Now, he stay awake alone, reading for his own pleasure so that he might better set the mood for tomorrow's continuation of the peicemeal novel...
Many a great book once found its home on the shelves for whomever might choose to grace this place with their scholarly pursuits. Since the bomb however, people didn't come here for anything. There weren't any supplies to be had and most of the books had been burnt beyond repair or recognition.
(omit)Still, that hadn't stopped those two from sneaking in that night.
A small fire hung near their makeshift camp, nestled amongst the bookshelves between fiction and romance. (Expand)
Half-burnt scraps were piling up beside them as the taller of the two, a brown haired boy, sifted through book after book, searching for any readable pages. Laying, curled around his shape, but not touching him, was a girl of similar age. Her eyes were closed and her hair was chopped short, taking on the ragged look that often hangs with those who survive and care nothing for physical beauty. Yet, she seemed beautiful for a moment as she curled near the boy, soaking in the warmth from the fire and his body. She smiled occasionally as well, although from far off one could never notice the casual beauty that accompanied such a thing, nor the reason for the smiles. (elaborate/expand)
(add paragraph or two on boy)
See, every time the boy found a page or two, even just a passage, of unburnt text, he would softly clear his throat. Giving it a look over for clarity, he would read it with as intriguing a tone as he could muster. Of course some of the sentences didn't seem to fit together, in fact they hardly ever seemed to come up with an intelligible meaning. Yet, between these two, it was like its own secret story, understood only by them. they enjoyed it, if not for the creativity of it all, simply to spend a moment of peace listening to the voice or sigh of another person.
Eventually, the girl pulled herself closer to the boy, laying so that she could place her head in his lap once she felt he'd found a suitably unharmed book. Tonight, he had scavenged the entire climax of some long forgotten fantasy novel. Some chivalrous peice involving mice and rabbits and badgers and hares and other manner of animals which had not survived the bombs. Still, holding the spine of the book with his left hand, the boy read aloud each sentence. He spoke no louder than was nesscessary for the girl to hear him as he gently ran his spare hand through her hair. Slowly, his voice faded until it dropped into silence; the steady breathing of the girl in his lap evidence that she had drifted to sleep. Now, he stay awake alone, reading for his own pleasure so that he might better set the mood for tomorrow's continuation of the peicemeal novel...
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Color Me
If I had to give you a color.
To shade you for everything I know about you.
To fill you in and create a glow of its own.
I wouldn't know where to start.
If I had to pick one color
To describe your many aspects of personality
And remarkable sense of style and suave
I think I'd be rather lost indeed.
Red is passion, lust, and hate.
Love and bliss and the senseless way you're lost in work.
The color of an artist who can do nothing but paint.
But this isn't your color.
Blue is sadness, thoughts, and dreams.
The past and future and inbetween, the way you want things to be.
The color of dreamers and long distance lovers.
But this isn't your color.
Green is for nature, grass, and freedom.
The unbound way you can expand ever outwards and encompass those you meet.
The way you're self sufficent and constantly capable in your own right.
But this isn't your color.
Yellow is sunshine, happiness, and joy.
Too bright to stare at for too long, too easy to overdose and not realize until its too late.
The shade of you which makes you most beautiful of all even to your closest friends.
But this isn't your color.
Black is morbidity, seriousness, and realism.
Very much like logic and the way one can take things into account regardless of their emotions.
The part of you which both scares me and draws me in the most.
But this isn't your color.
White is innocence, faith, and hope.
The uncanny ability to let the things you can't affect be the job of someone besides yourself.
Even faded, or discarded, its still very much a part of you even if you can't see it.
But this isn't your color.
My dear. I can paint myself a color, because I am myself. I cannot paint you, to do so would only disgrace the complexity of your character. Downgrade the beauty I've come to adore in all the aspects of your person that are beyond my eyes.
Oh but you can paint me if you'd like.
To shade you for everything I know about you.
To fill you in and create a glow of its own.
I wouldn't know where to start.
If I had to pick one color
To describe your many aspects of personality
And remarkable sense of style and suave
I think I'd be rather lost indeed.
Red is passion, lust, and hate.
Love and bliss and the senseless way you're lost in work.
The color of an artist who can do nothing but paint.
But this isn't your color.
Blue is sadness, thoughts, and dreams.
The past and future and inbetween, the way you want things to be.
The color of dreamers and long distance lovers.
But this isn't your color.
Green is for nature, grass, and freedom.
The unbound way you can expand ever outwards and encompass those you meet.
The way you're self sufficent and constantly capable in your own right.
But this isn't your color.
Yellow is sunshine, happiness, and joy.
Too bright to stare at for too long, too easy to overdose and not realize until its too late.
The shade of you which makes you most beautiful of all even to your closest friends.
But this isn't your color.
Black is morbidity, seriousness, and realism.
Very much like logic and the way one can take things into account regardless of their emotions.
The part of you which both scares me and draws me in the most.
But this isn't your color.
White is innocence, faith, and hope.
The uncanny ability to let the things you can't affect be the job of someone besides yourself.
Even faded, or discarded, its still very much a part of you even if you can't see it.
But this isn't your color.
My dear. I can paint myself a color, because I am myself. I cannot paint you, to do so would only disgrace the complexity of your character. Downgrade the beauty I've come to adore in all the aspects of your person that are beyond my eyes.
Oh but you can paint me if you'd like.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Pensively Creative
That's how I feel today. Yet, all that wants to pour out is something depressing, or something concerning religion. I spent many minutes last night speaking to a girl who is distraught at how she has fallen from the graces of her father.
Not her biological or adopted father, but 'Our Father". The big guy.
God.
Strangely, I feel slightly responsible.
At the same time, I'll be entirely honest, I can't say that I care.
I want her to be happy, but when it comes to religion caring has never been my strong point. On paper I just feel better saying it. Its not one of those things you can say to anyone's face without attempting to offend them, but writing it at least has the possibility of having some integral point or carrying an opinion as opposed to an offensive tone.
I remember I once had a conversation with a friend who was unsure of her religious stand. I would like to add that, after speaking to me and making a couple of her own judgements, she has now decided she isn't religious but (as of last I knew) refuses to tell her family for fear of being disowned.
I didn't pat her on the back or congratulate her on her decision at all. That's not nesscesarily a good decision.
I'll admit that faith makes people have an intrinsic and extrinsic motivater at all times to strive to be better people. Without that faith, that guidance, that ever-watched feeling, you end up with people like me.
Lazy and unmotivated.
Yet, I am entirely unrepentant...its almost sad really.
Back on topic, she had asked me at a point in the conversation something to the extent of, "Well why exactly do you feel religion is a pointless concept?"
I'll answer that question, as I didn't offer anything save a circular proof which had almost NOTHING to do with the question. I hadn't given it thought then, but now I have.
Quite frankly, I have viewed religion in many ways in my own rights and my own opinions. After much study through my own eyes, they're all attempting to show you the EXACT SAME THING from different lights and in different ways. Yet, we still slit each other's throats and spit upon those of other sects, viewing them as little more than ignorant cows who worship false dieties and, inevitably, will be damned to eternal suffering for their ignorance.
Yet this Lord, in many religions, is supposed to be forgiving.
...Fuck that.
If the Lord is at ALL forgiving, perhaps the single most forgivable state is to be entirely unaffiliated and to view all religions as equal and, perhaps, simliar. That would provide an open mind capable of being taught the truth of things in the all important after-life.
Even an angry god, "Holding us like spiders over the flame, only his own hand keeps us from eternal damnation..." which is likely not the exact quote, would be able to work better with an unrepentant scholar of all religions than a blind acolyte to a single faith.
Isn't eternal salvation supposed to be accompanied by knowledge and understanding? Compassion for others and a devout state of mind?
I have been called ignorant before, and I scoff at such things. I've openly been told that I will suffer for my sins and when I choose to repent it will have been too late and I shall burn.
Quite frankly, I don't buy it.
If there IS a god, there is absolutely no religion on earth, or any faith capable of being lead by man or written by men, that is capable of capturing the essence of an omnipotent being capable of such feats described in any text or concept.
In fact, omnipotence is SO vast a concept its almost insulting to say we can grasp the idea in any way.
My opinion on God, the Lord, or any kind of 'Over-Being' that rules all or at least oversees everything...
Is that they are so powerful and so omnipotent, that they have reached a state of being which has created an all around apathy for society as a whole.
In lament terms...
He's so powerful and so ever-encompassing that, frankly, he doesn't give a shit.
Religion has created both virtue and vice in this world. A code of laws and behaviors. Morals and ethics.
I'd be a fool to say we'd be better off without it.
However, I do not believe religion is about a greater being. If there is one, and he is at ALL described in any book...my mind set is perhaps the most salvagable of any mind set. With an equal view of every faith known to mankind (or at least documented) and no discrimination between them...perhaps different personal opinions, but no overal disdain for a culture's beliefs...
Well I could die and head to the pearly gates, or enlightenment, or my second life, as a more knowledgeable person. I would be more capable of stepping up to good old Peter and saying, "How are ya man. I'm here to learn. I've been a scholar of faith my whole life."
Personally, I'd be very easy to convert to a true believer.
That's what Purgatory is, right? A chance to repent and truly convert yourself to the right faith assuming you had the capability to change and repent?
A second life, or third life, or fourth life...or any reincarnation is so that one has a better chance to feel empathy for all beings in the world and all states of mind and states of life so they may one day be truly enlightened and join the dieties in omnipotence?
Enlightenment itself also came from the idea of purifying your body and mind so that you might be pure enough to pass into the spiritual world.
Or the muslim concept of self-sacrifice being the purest thing you can do in order to head to heaven and join allah? Disregarding physical things and letting your spirit be your guide?
If you can't see it...whatever.
If you don't want to see it...whatever.
If you see it and want to believe it...whatever.
If you see it and don't want to believe it...whatever.
Pretty much...whatever.
This is my opinion and is in no way intended to sway other people's opinions.
I felt like voicing this as the answer to a question I never fully answered a long time ago.
I hope, friend, this was good enough for you.
Not her biological or adopted father, but 'Our Father". The big guy.
God.
Strangely, I feel slightly responsible.
At the same time, I'll be entirely honest, I can't say that I care.
I want her to be happy, but when it comes to religion caring has never been my strong point. On paper I just feel better saying it. Its not one of those things you can say to anyone's face without attempting to offend them, but writing it at least has the possibility of having some integral point or carrying an opinion as opposed to an offensive tone.
I remember I once had a conversation with a friend who was unsure of her religious stand. I would like to add that, after speaking to me and making a couple of her own judgements, she has now decided she isn't religious but (as of last I knew) refuses to tell her family for fear of being disowned.
I didn't pat her on the back or congratulate her on her decision at all. That's not nesscesarily a good decision.
I'll admit that faith makes people have an intrinsic and extrinsic motivater at all times to strive to be better people. Without that faith, that guidance, that ever-watched feeling, you end up with people like me.
Lazy and unmotivated.
Yet, I am entirely unrepentant...its almost sad really.
Back on topic, she had asked me at a point in the conversation something to the extent of, "Well why exactly do you feel religion is a pointless concept?"
I'll answer that question, as I didn't offer anything save a circular proof which had almost NOTHING to do with the question. I hadn't given it thought then, but now I have.
Quite frankly, I have viewed religion in many ways in my own rights and my own opinions. After much study through my own eyes, they're all attempting to show you the EXACT SAME THING from different lights and in different ways. Yet, we still slit each other's throats and spit upon those of other sects, viewing them as little more than ignorant cows who worship false dieties and, inevitably, will be damned to eternal suffering for their ignorance.
Yet this Lord, in many religions, is supposed to be forgiving.
...Fuck that.
If the Lord is at ALL forgiving, perhaps the single most forgivable state is to be entirely unaffiliated and to view all religions as equal and, perhaps, simliar. That would provide an open mind capable of being taught the truth of things in the all important after-life.
Even an angry god, "Holding us like spiders over the flame, only his own hand keeps us from eternal damnation..." which is likely not the exact quote, would be able to work better with an unrepentant scholar of all religions than a blind acolyte to a single faith.
Isn't eternal salvation supposed to be accompanied by knowledge and understanding? Compassion for others and a devout state of mind?
I have been called ignorant before, and I scoff at such things. I've openly been told that I will suffer for my sins and when I choose to repent it will have been too late and I shall burn.
Quite frankly, I don't buy it.
If there IS a god, there is absolutely no religion on earth, or any faith capable of being lead by man or written by men, that is capable of capturing the essence of an omnipotent being capable of such feats described in any text or concept.
In fact, omnipotence is SO vast a concept its almost insulting to say we can grasp the idea in any way.
My opinion on God, the Lord, or any kind of 'Over-Being' that rules all or at least oversees everything...
Is that they are so powerful and so omnipotent, that they have reached a state of being which has created an all around apathy for society as a whole.
In lament terms...
He's so powerful and so ever-encompassing that, frankly, he doesn't give a shit.
Religion has created both virtue and vice in this world. A code of laws and behaviors. Morals and ethics.
I'd be a fool to say we'd be better off without it.
However, I do not believe religion is about a greater being. If there is one, and he is at ALL described in any book...my mind set is perhaps the most salvagable of any mind set. With an equal view of every faith known to mankind (or at least documented) and no discrimination between them...perhaps different personal opinions, but no overal disdain for a culture's beliefs...
Well I could die and head to the pearly gates, or enlightenment, or my second life, as a more knowledgeable person. I would be more capable of stepping up to good old Peter and saying, "How are ya man. I'm here to learn. I've been a scholar of faith my whole life."
Personally, I'd be very easy to convert to a true believer.
That's what Purgatory is, right? A chance to repent and truly convert yourself to the right faith assuming you had the capability to change and repent?
A second life, or third life, or fourth life...or any reincarnation is so that one has a better chance to feel empathy for all beings in the world and all states of mind and states of life so they may one day be truly enlightened and join the dieties in omnipotence?
Enlightenment itself also came from the idea of purifying your body and mind so that you might be pure enough to pass into the spiritual world.
Or the muslim concept of self-sacrifice being the purest thing you can do in order to head to heaven and join allah? Disregarding physical things and letting your spirit be your guide?
If you can't see it...whatever.
If you don't want to see it...whatever.
If you see it and want to believe it...whatever.
If you see it and don't want to believe it...whatever.
Pretty much...whatever.
This is my opinion and is in no way intended to sway other people's opinions.
I felt like voicing this as the answer to a question I never fully answered a long time ago.
I hope, friend, this was good enough for you.
Untitled
There are many great things in life which are umistakably better
unnamed.
Concepts, feelings, all kinds of things that can drive the very soul to tear itself asunder with conflicting thoughts and opinions that have
no direction.
Expanding in every direction until it has spread itself too thin and is enveloped by the very thing it had attempted to ward off in its
compassion.
Like rays of light in the dark, peircing through with unbending will until it too oversteps its abilities and is
lost.
I feel that way sometimes, as if I'm searching constantly for something, anything, to pull me closer to that which helps someone work towards something,
a purpose.
Yet I feel always like the taste at the tip of the tongue which you cannot name, the thought that has just escaped you as you're about to speak, the idea which fades as soon as you try to put it to paper,
utterly lost.
Some will see this and think of me as spiraling into despair, depression, or overall unhappiness but those who know me know the truth behind it all and how I have always felt
at blame.
For everything has a cause, a driving source for every problem, and everyone who knows me has come to the realization that I am quick to blame myself for anything and everything that arises in the lives of others because
its easier to blame someone else.
I want to be blamed, that's the funny part, because to me...if I can be blamed and relieve others of their misery or personal responsibility for whatever haunts them then
I have purpose.
I feel untitled. Purposeless. No goals. No direction. Just writing, scribbled hap-hazardly on paper and left nameless as I have little more use than to be discarded or tucked away as a personal secret, a waste of paper, ashamed.
unnamed.
Concepts, feelings, all kinds of things that can drive the very soul to tear itself asunder with conflicting thoughts and opinions that have
no direction.
Expanding in every direction until it has spread itself too thin and is enveloped by the very thing it had attempted to ward off in its
compassion.
Like rays of light in the dark, peircing through with unbending will until it too oversteps its abilities and is
lost.
I feel that way sometimes, as if I'm searching constantly for something, anything, to pull me closer to that which helps someone work towards something,
a purpose.
Yet I feel always like the taste at the tip of the tongue which you cannot name, the thought that has just escaped you as you're about to speak, the idea which fades as soon as you try to put it to paper,
utterly lost.
Some will see this and think of me as spiraling into despair, depression, or overall unhappiness but those who know me know the truth behind it all and how I have always felt
at blame.
For everything has a cause, a driving source for every problem, and everyone who knows me has come to the realization that I am quick to blame myself for anything and everything that arises in the lives of others because
its easier to blame someone else.
I want to be blamed, that's the funny part, because to me...if I can be blamed and relieve others of their misery or personal responsibility for whatever haunts them then
I have purpose.
I feel untitled. Purposeless. No goals. No direction. Just writing, scribbled hap-hazardly on paper and left nameless as I have little more use than to be discarded or tucked away as a personal secret, a waste of paper, ashamed.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Can you kiss the sky?
Here, sit on my shoulders so you can reach higher.
Can you see your dreams?
Curl up in my arms when you close your eyes and I'll whisper a thousand images for you to see.
Can you hear my heart beat?
I'll pull you closer to my chest so you can listen better.
Can you feel my hands?
I'll press a little harder against your back so you can know I'm still there.
Can you love me better?
I couldn't love you any better right now than I already am, but damn I try.
Here, sit on my shoulders so you can reach higher.
Can you see your dreams?
Curl up in my arms when you close your eyes and I'll whisper a thousand images for you to see.
Can you hear my heart beat?
I'll pull you closer to my chest so you can listen better.
Can you feel my hands?
I'll press a little harder against your back so you can know I'm still there.
Can you love me better?
I couldn't love you any better right now than I already am, but damn I try.
What is your favorite quote from anything you've ever heard?
I have one, and its simple and sweet. Catchy and cocky. Yet, at a glance it is senseless and pointless.
Its just like me.
At the end of Cowboy Bebop, the Hero is at the end of his life. He's just killed the last link to his past and he's fading fast. Turning back towards the camera, and the awe-struck posse who has entered the room, he staggers part way down the stairwell between them. The foes quiver, taking a step back in tentative fear as he grows closer staggering step by staggering step. Then, he lifts his right hand and curls his ring and pinky into his palm. Pointing his middle finger and his pointer finger at them like a gun, he lifts his thumb up and smiles.
"Bang." He whispers, letting his thumb click down as if he'd shot his final round. Then, he collapses on the stairwell and the credits roll.
The End.
I have one, and its simple and sweet. Catchy and cocky. Yet, at a glance it is senseless and pointless.
Its just like me.
At the end of Cowboy Bebop, the Hero is at the end of his life. He's just killed the last link to his past and he's fading fast. Turning back towards the camera, and the awe-struck posse who has entered the room, he staggers part way down the stairwell between them. The foes quiver, taking a step back in tentative fear as he grows closer staggering step by staggering step. Then, he lifts his right hand and curls his ring and pinky into his palm. Pointing his middle finger and his pointer finger at them like a gun, he lifts his thumb up and smiles.
"Bang." He whispers, letting his thumb click down as if he'd shot his final round. Then, he collapses on the stairwell and the credits roll.
The End.
Smells like chocolate...
Was the only thing that came to his mind as he lounged lazily at his desk.
It was the way many of his nights were spent lately, and he chalked it up to insomnia every time. He knew it wasn't the truth, but that wouldn't change the stories he told his friends. Letting his eyes drop low, he noticed the slightly metallic grey of his desk's paint blending subtly with the dulled shade of blue attached to his old blue jeans. Frowning, he reached forwards with his unoccupied right hand, scraping his nail across the off-white stain beside his right pocket. His jagged half-chewed nails caught uncomfortably in the threads of his jeans and he decided to let the mark stay where it was; he'd clean the jeans later.
He did lots of things 'later'. Later he was going to get a job, later he was going to hang out with his girlfriend, later he was going to clean the kitchen. In fact, later on he planned to sort his life and move out.
Everything he planned to do was set for 'later'. Later hadn't come yet.
Reaching up, he ruffled his brown hair, unkempt and unwashed, until it settled into a comfortable place on his head. Despite the seemingly trashy way he carried himself, he was a rather good looking young man, washed or not. Yawning a little, he turned his attention back to the only glow of light in the dimly lit living room of his parent's house.
The LCD's of his outdated laptop flickered occasionally when he jostled the desk before him. Not that he'd have wanted to touch the desk, considering it was steel and the winter's chill lurked in every corner of this unwelcome abode. The image that had formed on the monitor was that of a blank page. Obviously, he was going to be writing later too.
There it was again. That faint scent of chocolate filled his senses as he watched the clock change to 1:39, A.M of course.
Snapped from his momentary lapse of thought, he closed his eyes. Deep brown eyes which hinted intelligence and a certain kind of patience that only displayed itself to those who were willing to speak to him in person. He let his hearing take over, his thoughts drifting away from the chocolate for now. Hayley sung her heart out beside him, coming quietly out of the speakers beside him. Strange, he wasn't a huge fan of Paramore, but he didn't like to mention that in public. Lots of people loved them, his girlfriend included. He could bare them, but after a couple of minutes he got tired of the sound.
Not just chocolate, dark chocolate. Warmed up just enough to melt and mix up nicely with milk, only this flavor was deeper. It wasn't quite milk.
Opening his eyes, he recapped the Sunday he'd just left behind an hour or so ago. Such a strange thing Sunday. Its like a weekend but at the same time, its the beginning of a new week so should we enjoy it or prepare for work instead. Judging by his personal experience with Sundays, this young man used them strictly for entertainment. Kind of a last hurray that couldn't be fit into a glorious Saturday.
Stopping for a moment, he tilted his head as he pulled the coffee mug to his lips once again and took a sip. Not quite a strong flavor luckily, however it didn't have quite enough of that chocolate flavor to it to keep him focused on the coffee and away from the day.
At this rate, 'later' was going to be sooner.
Eying his empty coffee mug, he debated on whether or not to fill it up again. Smirking a little, he shrugged it off and placed his hands on the keyboard.
He'd hang out with her later, but tonight he'd give her a peice of his mind.
Tonight, he'd tell her that his coffee reminded him of Hot Chocolate before Christmas. Of a little red truck that was more than enough to get him around. Of a sunrise that reminded him of real life and not a movie or a book; a cloud covered sunrise that beat any perfect sunrise he'd ever read about.
Of 15 minutes he took to think about how he really looked at that moment so she could get another taste of the little world that held him tightly when he wasn't hiding in her arms.
It was the way many of his nights were spent lately, and he chalked it up to insomnia every time. He knew it wasn't the truth, but that wouldn't change the stories he told his friends. Letting his eyes drop low, he noticed the slightly metallic grey of his desk's paint blending subtly with the dulled shade of blue attached to his old blue jeans. Frowning, he reached forwards with his unoccupied right hand, scraping his nail across the off-white stain beside his right pocket. His jagged half-chewed nails caught uncomfortably in the threads of his jeans and he decided to let the mark stay where it was; he'd clean the jeans later.
He did lots of things 'later'. Later he was going to get a job, later he was going to hang out with his girlfriend, later he was going to clean the kitchen. In fact, later on he planned to sort his life and move out.
Everything he planned to do was set for 'later'. Later hadn't come yet.
Reaching up, he ruffled his brown hair, unkempt and unwashed, until it settled into a comfortable place on his head. Despite the seemingly trashy way he carried himself, he was a rather good looking young man, washed or not. Yawning a little, he turned his attention back to the only glow of light in the dimly lit living room of his parent's house.
The LCD's of his outdated laptop flickered occasionally when he jostled the desk before him. Not that he'd have wanted to touch the desk, considering it was steel and the winter's chill lurked in every corner of this unwelcome abode. The image that had formed on the monitor was that of a blank page. Obviously, he was going to be writing later too.
There it was again. That faint scent of chocolate filled his senses as he watched the clock change to 1:39, A.M of course.
Snapped from his momentary lapse of thought, he closed his eyes. Deep brown eyes which hinted intelligence and a certain kind of patience that only displayed itself to those who were willing to speak to him in person. He let his hearing take over, his thoughts drifting away from the chocolate for now. Hayley sung her heart out beside him, coming quietly out of the speakers beside him. Strange, he wasn't a huge fan of Paramore, but he didn't like to mention that in public. Lots of people loved them, his girlfriend included. He could bare them, but after a couple of minutes he got tired of the sound.
Not just chocolate, dark chocolate. Warmed up just enough to melt and mix up nicely with milk, only this flavor was deeper. It wasn't quite milk.
Opening his eyes, he recapped the Sunday he'd just left behind an hour or so ago. Such a strange thing Sunday. Its like a weekend but at the same time, its the beginning of a new week so should we enjoy it or prepare for work instead. Judging by his personal experience with Sundays, this young man used them strictly for entertainment. Kind of a last hurray that couldn't be fit into a glorious Saturday.
Stopping for a moment, he tilted his head as he pulled the coffee mug to his lips once again and took a sip. Not quite a strong flavor luckily, however it didn't have quite enough of that chocolate flavor to it to keep him focused on the coffee and away from the day.
At this rate, 'later' was going to be sooner.
Eying his empty coffee mug, he debated on whether or not to fill it up again. Smirking a little, he shrugged it off and placed his hands on the keyboard.
He'd hang out with her later, but tonight he'd give her a peice of his mind.
Tonight, he'd tell her that his coffee reminded him of Hot Chocolate before Christmas. Of a little red truck that was more than enough to get him around. Of a sunrise that reminded him of real life and not a movie or a book; a cloud covered sunrise that beat any perfect sunrise he'd ever read about.
Of 15 minutes he took to think about how he really looked at that moment so she could get another taste of the little world that held him tightly when he wasn't hiding in her arms.
I can feel the music
I can taste the breeze
I can walk taller, even with scraped knees.
I can hear the silence
I can know the pain
I can see tomorrow, even with blind eyes.
I can dream higher
I can dive lower
I can hold tighter, even with no arms.
I can have thoughts
I can have dreams
I can have my own way, that's what she has taught me.
I can taste the breeze
I can walk taller, even with scraped knees.
I can hear the silence
I can know the pain
I can see tomorrow, even with blind eyes.
I can dream higher
I can dive lower
I can hold tighter, even with no arms.
I can have thoughts
I can have dreams
I can have my own way, that's what she has taught me.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
To my lover
Let me keep this sweet and as simple as I can.
My love, you've beaten me to many things in our relationship.
You kissed me first. You asked me out. You "loved" me first. You took me in first. You confided in me first.
I still remember those conversations. They seem farther away then they are, but I still remember them.
Well, I wanted to try and beat you to something for once. I'm still trying.
I like to think that I liked you first. That I talked to you first. That I wanted you most.
I don't think so anymore though.
You said yourself that you kind of wanted to just talk to me more that night.
And it was you who pulled me aside to say hi first.
Its you who misses me even when I'm there.
Is it wrong of me to be scared of my happiness?
To be scared of how much I need you now?
I like to think I was the first one...
Who stole your heart completely and took it for my own...
Then cradled it softly and offered you mine in return...
Before hiding it away in the safest of places I could imagine...
Your hands.
My love, you've beaten me to many things in our relationship.
You kissed me first. You asked me out. You "loved" me first. You took me in first. You confided in me first.
I still remember those conversations. They seem farther away then they are, but I still remember them.
Well, I wanted to try and beat you to something for once. I'm still trying.
I like to think that I liked you first. That I talked to you first. That I wanted you most.
I don't think so anymore though.
You said yourself that you kind of wanted to just talk to me more that night.
And it was you who pulled me aside to say hi first.
Its you who misses me even when I'm there.
Is it wrong of me to be scared of my happiness?
To be scared of how much I need you now?
I like to think I was the first one...
Who stole your heart completely and took it for my own...
Then cradled it softly and offered you mine in return...
Before hiding it away in the safest of places I could imagine...
Your hands.
Friday, January 23, 2009
I miss your kisses.
Your body pressed against mine at the stomach where shirts can slide quickly to hide us.
Your jeans laying against my jeans, our legs uselessly complacent within.
The quiver and sigh that come with my electric touch.
Lets get physical.
I want to kiss every inch of you again, relaxed in our private hours before unforeseen arrivals.
Hold you beneath blankets that are too short to cover my toes because I'm too tall.
Giggling at each stupid face and awkward sound we hear as we try to get comfy.
I want you.
Baby I can't shake the feeling or the taste in my mouth that I get lately.
Hovering over my shoulder like some spectre of lust and passion asking all manner of things.
I miss your kisses, and where they took us on those days where it was just me and you.
Your body pressed against mine at the stomach where shirts can slide quickly to hide us.
Your jeans laying against my jeans, our legs uselessly complacent within.
The quiver and sigh that come with my electric touch.
Lets get physical.
I want to kiss every inch of you again, relaxed in our private hours before unforeseen arrivals.
Hold you beneath blankets that are too short to cover my toes because I'm too tall.
Giggling at each stupid face and awkward sound we hear as we try to get comfy.
I want you.
Baby I can't shake the feeling or the taste in my mouth that I get lately.
Hovering over my shoulder like some spectre of lust and passion asking all manner of things.
I miss your kisses, and where they took us on those days where it was just me and you.
Dreaming Dreamers Dream
Hey there dreamer
What is it you see
Is it the stars shining brightly
Reflected in your morning tea
Is it deep like the ocean
Which is just like your bathtub
Or shallow like yourself
Somewhere lost inside
Hey there dreamer
What is it you see
Is it your long lost lover
In your cereal bowl
A turbulent tornado
Which you tame with your spoon
And the hands of the gods
Stirring it up again
Hey there dreamer
What is it you see
Is it your first discovery
Of weaving music into a masterpeice
That you see in his eyes
Or that story of 15 years work
That you haven't quite started yet
Hey there dreamer
What is it you see
When you look to the sky
And dig that much deeper in the dirt
Searching for gold where no one goes
Grasping victory tighter and tighter
As you head towards the core.
Hey there dreamer
I don't know what you see
But I see you laying beside me
An empty glass upon the table
An empty bowl alongside it
The spoon hangs lazily
at the edge of the bowl
Occasionally, you glance at me
Then back to the ceiling
Lost in thought
You grip my hand tightly
Lost within
Hey there dreamer
Tell me what you're dreaming
I promise I'm listening
I just look like I'm sleeping
What is it you see
Is it the stars shining brightly
Reflected in your morning tea
Is it deep like the ocean
Which is just like your bathtub
Or shallow like yourself
Somewhere lost inside
Hey there dreamer
What is it you see
Is it your long lost lover
In your cereal bowl
A turbulent tornado
Which you tame with your spoon
And the hands of the gods
Stirring it up again
Hey there dreamer
What is it you see
Is it your first discovery
Of weaving music into a masterpeice
That you see in his eyes
Or that story of 15 years work
That you haven't quite started yet
Hey there dreamer
What is it you see
When you look to the sky
And dig that much deeper in the dirt
Searching for gold where no one goes
Grasping victory tighter and tighter
As you head towards the core.
Hey there dreamer
I don't know what you see
But I see you laying beside me
An empty glass upon the table
An empty bowl alongside it
The spoon hangs lazily
at the edge of the bowl
Occasionally, you glance at me
Then back to the ceiling
Lost in thought
You grip my hand tightly
Lost within
Hey there dreamer
Tell me what you're dreaming
I promise I'm listening
I just look like I'm sleeping
What's this?
Did you forget?
All the meaningless words you say
Those stupid things you say to me
Is this?
What you wanted?
To chase me off your property
Chase me down onto the beach
Where I
Become one with the waves
Where I
Drift away
Where I
Join the sea
Where I
Drift away
Drift away
Who's this?
On your shoulder?
Did you think you think for a second
That this boy is my replacement
Do you know?
How this feels?
To finally be liberated
Freedom so sweet I can taste it
Where I
Become one with the waves
Where I
Drift away
Where I
Join the sea
Where I
Drift away
Where I...
Lose myself
I...
Drift away
Drift away
Drift away...
oh yay. Lame song. I'm happy!
Did you forget?
All the meaningless words you say
Those stupid things you say to me
Is this?
What you wanted?
To chase me off your property
Chase me down onto the beach
Where I
Become one with the waves
Where I
Drift away
Where I
Join the sea
Where I
Drift away
Drift away
Who's this?
On your shoulder?
Did you think you think for a second
That this boy is my replacement
Do you know?
How this feels?
To finally be liberated
Freedom so sweet I can taste it
Where I
Become one with the waves
Where I
Drift away
Where I
Join the sea
Where I
Drift away
Where I...
Lose myself
I...
Drift away
Drift away
Drift away...
oh yay. Lame song. I'm happy!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Days like these make me wish I were blind.
Worse days make me want to take out my eyes.
I want an excuse for blundering into everything that I do.
I want to blame it all on something else besides my own poor judgement.
I want to be different and say it was the sound of your voice, not the way that you smile that drew me in first.
Days like these make me wish I were deaf.
Worse days make me eye pencils thoughtfully.
I want an excuse for being so ignorant to the obvious things that are said to me.
I want to blame all my carelessness on a lack of understanding or ability to hear.
I want to be unique and devote all of my senses to giving you something so beautiful words can't express it.
Days like these make me wish I were stupid.
Worse days make car wrecks look like easy ways out.
I want an excuse for my lack of comprehension and my in ability to remember things.
I want to blame all my inattentiveness on a lack of comprehension and stability.
I want to be unique in all the simple ways that I can't help but overlook in all of my overly logical or compensationary ways.
However, days like these leave me as me.
Worse days remind me how nice it is to be me.
I don't need excuses for all of my faults and all the annoying things about myself.
I don't need to blame my mistakes on some horribly dehabiliting injury or situation.
I'm unique in the way that I have you and I get to shower you in the best and worst of me.
My overly logical, know-it-all, smart mouthed, smart ass, obliviously obvious, stubbornly, nerdy, lame, well-traveled, rub-it-in-all-the-time, off-key, well read, introspective, likeably friendly, and slightly charismatic way.
Mildly handsome in my own way, I bring a little bit of chaos into your life.
Free-spirited and openly imaginative, I take flight on wings made of dreams. I'll nest in your branches which reach happily to the sky with tall ambitions and deep rooted plans, greeting me everytime I fly by.
I'm no seasonal bird, I'll stay all winter.
Green leaves or bare branches, I'll stay all year...
Green leaves...or bare branches.
Worse days make me want to take out my eyes.
I want an excuse for blundering into everything that I do.
I want to blame it all on something else besides my own poor judgement.
I want to be different and say it was the sound of your voice, not the way that you smile that drew me in first.
Days like these make me wish I were deaf.
Worse days make me eye pencils thoughtfully.
I want an excuse for being so ignorant to the obvious things that are said to me.
I want to blame all my carelessness on a lack of understanding or ability to hear.
I want to be unique and devote all of my senses to giving you something so beautiful words can't express it.
Days like these make me wish I were stupid.
Worse days make car wrecks look like easy ways out.
I want an excuse for my lack of comprehension and my in ability to remember things.
I want to blame all my inattentiveness on a lack of comprehension and stability.
I want to be unique in all the simple ways that I can't help but overlook in all of my overly logical or compensationary ways.
However, days like these leave me as me.
Worse days remind me how nice it is to be me.
I don't need excuses for all of my faults and all the annoying things about myself.
I don't need to blame my mistakes on some horribly dehabiliting injury or situation.
I'm unique in the way that I have you and I get to shower you in the best and worst of me.
My overly logical, know-it-all, smart mouthed, smart ass, obliviously obvious, stubbornly, nerdy, lame, well-traveled, rub-it-in-all-the-time, off-key, well read, introspective, likeably friendly, and slightly charismatic way.
Mildly handsome in my own way, I bring a little bit of chaos into your life.
Free-spirited and openly imaginative, I take flight on wings made of dreams. I'll nest in your branches which reach happily to the sky with tall ambitions and deep rooted plans, greeting me everytime I fly by.
I'm no seasonal bird, I'll stay all winter.
Green leaves or bare branches, I'll stay all year...
Green leaves...or bare branches.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Don't let me lie
Don't let me lie, you'll only let me let you down.
So baby I won't lie, it'll only hurt you more.
You're my vice, my own cocaine, I can't stop what I've began.
Can't you see? Can't you feel? You're quickly everything to me.
Be my air, be my dreams, be my skin, make my heart beat.
But lover lover, don't relent, there's cures a million,
just you wait.
I'll fix it all, the only way, I'll fix me up and keep us sane.
All the yelling, its only words, and words can't hold us back.
You told me once, and once again, and several times after that.
Look not for approval, but what might make you smile.
Not quite like that, but close enough I'd say.
Shelter me in time of need, just give me a hug as I'm crumbling.
My dear I need to be held back, back from all my little thoughts.
Of packing up and stepping out, closing doors and burning bridge.
Please hold my hands and hold me down,
don't let me burn us to the ground.
So baby I won't lie, it'll only hurt you more.
You're my vice, my own cocaine, I can't stop what I've began.
Can't you see? Can't you feel? You're quickly everything to me.
Be my air, be my dreams, be my skin, make my heart beat.
But lover lover, don't relent, there's cures a million,
just you wait.
I'll fix it all, the only way, I'll fix me up and keep us sane.
All the yelling, its only words, and words can't hold us back.
You told me once, and once again, and several times after that.
Look not for approval, but what might make you smile.
Not quite like that, but close enough I'd say.
Shelter me in time of need, just give me a hug as I'm crumbling.
My dear I need to be held back, back from all my little thoughts.
Of packing up and stepping out, closing doors and burning bridge.
Please hold my hands and hold me down,
don't let me burn us to the ground.
What is Bravery?
Is it half of a hero?
Is it the reason why people like Batman and Superman are so revered despite their fictional status?
Is it something only held by the selfless and caring?
Is it the element of fearlessness that everyone seems to lack?
Is it what makes a friend a friend?
Is it what stands between you and peer pressure?
Your dreams?
Your vices?
Is bravery an obstacle or a boon in your endeavors?
Is bravery what got you where you are?
Earned you who you're with?
Taught you what you know?
Is bravery what got your first kiss?
Physical adventure?
Is it what got you through the first time you had sex?
Is bravery something you possess?
Oh my dear, I'm just not brave enough for you. Ask me to kiss you and I'll falter a moment, afriad you might reject me still. Scared to leave you, scared to be with you. Scared to sleep and find it all a dream.
Better to have loved and lost? Sometimes that seems wrong to me.
Better to have missed out and miss nothing than to be let in and crave constantly.
Oh my dear, I wish I had never had sex. I wish I were as virgin as you. You would have a much easier time with me then. I have no overt cravings, but oh there are times where I wake up in the morning and do more than just think about it. Days when I count my change and frown in the mirror. Days where I want nothing else. Oh my dear, don't let me let you down. We've come so far and I'll fight on...but baby...
I don't know if I'm brave enough to face me for you.
Is it the reason why people like Batman and Superman are so revered despite their fictional status?
Is it something only held by the selfless and caring?
Is it the element of fearlessness that everyone seems to lack?
Is it what makes a friend a friend?
Is it what stands between you and peer pressure?
Your dreams?
Your vices?
Is bravery an obstacle or a boon in your endeavors?
Is bravery what got you where you are?
Earned you who you're with?
Taught you what you know?
Is bravery what got your first kiss?
Physical adventure?
Is it what got you through the first time you had sex?
Is bravery something you possess?
Oh my dear, I'm just not brave enough for you. Ask me to kiss you and I'll falter a moment, afriad you might reject me still. Scared to leave you, scared to be with you. Scared to sleep and find it all a dream.
Better to have loved and lost? Sometimes that seems wrong to me.
Better to have missed out and miss nothing than to be let in and crave constantly.
Oh my dear, I wish I had never had sex. I wish I were as virgin as you. You would have a much easier time with me then. I have no overt cravings, but oh there are times where I wake up in the morning and do more than just think about it. Days when I count my change and frown in the mirror. Days where I want nothing else. Oh my dear, don't let me let you down. We've come so far and I'll fight on...but baby...
I don't know if I'm brave enough to face me for you.
A Play Today!
We're putting on a play today.
A play today, about today.
What shall we put in our play today?
We must put a play in our play on today because...
There is a play today!
But my dear, you are the star!
Our greatest actor with all the best parts!
You have the happy lines and the sad lines.
The monologues and internal thoughts.
The simple scenes and clever plots.
Ah my love, I am no actor at all!
I've never liked the crowd you see.
All those eyes watching scare me you see!
Rhetoric and prose are not my forte afterall!
I think I shall fly then and see just how far...
She's gone my friends! Our star is gone!
The poison she drank and the wounds within,
she's fallen my friends into the darkest of sleeps.
What shall we do without a star now?
How ever shall we save our play?
Well, you see, I'm the narrator and I tell the story.
I will tell the story of today. A tragedy it is you see.
All about the play today, the play about today, today.
A tragedy so complex and beautiful no one can appreciate the subtle way it shapes itself.
In every day of this today it molds and churns in subtle ways!
The catch you see, is not the death, but the birth resulting in our tragedy.
For, you see, her life has left her body, but in it we have our story!
A play today, about today, is on today.
We have no star, as you can see...
Will you be the star of today's story?
A play today, about today.
What shall we put in our play today?
We must put a play in our play on today because...
There is a play today!
But my dear, you are the star!
Our greatest actor with all the best parts!
You have the happy lines and the sad lines.
The monologues and internal thoughts.
The simple scenes and clever plots.
Ah my love, I am no actor at all!
I've never liked the crowd you see.
All those eyes watching scare me you see!
Rhetoric and prose are not my forte afterall!
I think I shall fly then and see just how far...
She's gone my friends! Our star is gone!
The poison she drank and the wounds within,
she's fallen my friends into the darkest of sleeps.
What shall we do without a star now?
How ever shall we save our play?
Well, you see, I'm the narrator and I tell the story.
I will tell the story of today. A tragedy it is you see.
All about the play today, the play about today, today.
A tragedy so complex and beautiful no one can appreciate the subtle way it shapes itself.
In every day of this today it molds and churns in subtle ways!
The catch you see, is not the death, but the birth resulting in our tragedy.
For, you see, her life has left her body, but in it we have our story!
A play today, about today, is on today.
We have no star, as you can see...
Will you be the star of today's story?
Sunday, January 18, 2009
The fastest way to fall asleep is to
hold your breath before you
dive right into the ocean
waves lap upon the sand
castles rise into the
sky touches the tan earth as it
reaches into the depths of the mind
as you hold your breath and take
a trip to your favorite place in the
whole world just to spend a few more
minutes is all it takes to plunge into
darkness creeping closer to the shore with each
wave of nausiea as you feel your lungs
burst forth with each spectacular crash as it dances in the
morning light is all that greets you after it all.
Did you know the fastest way to fall asleep...
is to hold your breath?
P.s - totally just random so ya know. Also, g'night. I'll call tomorrow or something.
hold your breath before you
dive right into the ocean
waves lap upon the sand
castles rise into the
sky touches the tan earth as it
reaches into the depths of the mind
as you hold your breath and take
a trip to your favorite place in the
whole world just to spend a few more
minutes is all it takes to plunge into
darkness creeping closer to the shore with each
wave of nausiea as you feel your lungs
burst forth with each spectacular crash as it dances in the
morning light is all that greets you after it all.
Did you know the fastest way to fall asleep...
is to hold your breath?
P.s - totally just random so ya know. Also, g'night. I'll call tomorrow or something.
My phone battery died
I hope you have/had fun today...
I have a lot of work to do around the house right now.
I need my work schedule sent to me.
I wish I could talk to you soon.
I think I might see you Monday since its a holiday.
Maybe.
I think I like simple sentences today.
I have a lot of work to do around the house right now.
I need my work schedule sent to me.
I wish I could talk to you soon.
I think I might see you Monday since its a holiday.
Maybe.
I think I like simple sentences today.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
1:16
Take me home.
The second left.
Yes,
Right here.
Don't go farther.
forget the 4th.
The mainway.
The way to my
house.
No, lets go home.
The second left.
Go too far,
get lost with me.
Please just drive,
lets keep going.
I'll take the wheel,
you like it better
when I drive.
I always seem to know where I'm going, I think that sets you at ease. Even when I'm utterly and hopelessly lost, I'm always somehow found.
So let me drive, and we'll head into the sunset, we don't have to say a word to anyone, just climb inside, climb aboard.
I'll drive until we reach the shore. We'll strip right down and dive right in.
Baby, I'll dive right in.
to the ocean.
To you.
The second left.
Yes,
Right here.
Don't go farther.
forget the 4th.
The mainway.
The way to my
house.
No, lets go home.
The second left.
Go too far,
get lost with me.
Please just drive,
lets keep going.
I'll take the wheel,
you like it better
when I drive.
I always seem to know where I'm going, I think that sets you at ease. Even when I'm utterly and hopelessly lost, I'm always somehow found.
So let me drive, and we'll head into the sunset, we don't have to say a word to anyone, just climb inside, climb aboard.
I'll drive until we reach the shore. We'll strip right down and dive right in.
Baby, I'll dive right in.
to the ocean.
To you.
Friday, January 16, 2009
It is 1:14 in the morning.
I have work tomorrow at noon and I promised to write for 15 minutes. Not only did I promise...but I set myself to it because it kind of turned out to be a bit of a challenge and my ego accepted it. I really wish I'd gotten up and gotten something to eat before I started though. I'm feeling cookies and I'll likely eat a few before I go to sleep. Though, I'm most likley lying to myself so that I will sit here and go through with this whole thing and stop thinking about cookies.
Its kind of funny though, here I'm trying to get all my thoughts to be split by the breaks in paragraphs...or at least the different strains of thoughts, and I seem to be in a moment of flow because I feel other trains of conversation rushing past me as I sit here and try to get a different one out. Look, there goes the one I really wanted to segway into. I totally don't have anything to talk about now. Kind of rediculous don't you think?
Its kind of like when I open my mouth you know. I just kind of start going because I feel that I might actually say something decent if I keep up with the topic I'm on. Afterall, if you aim for something long enough you're likely to get it right don't you think?
There we go! Found what it was. Won't bug me like unknowns seem to bug you. I am too apathetic at times I guess. Funny, the change in music is what reminded me of what I wanted to say. I guess that's because I was going to mention something about the music. Cognition and stuff.
Ok, before I forget here's the first thing. It took me a long time to get into a comfortable enough spot and get the right music to play before I felt confident enough to sit down and get to work on this. I'll have you know I'm kind of sweating the idea of typing for 15 straight minutes without much stops. Its actually kind of funny because I'm typing pretty much EXACTLY what I'm thinking so it makes me feel like I'm thinking a little slower than usual. Oh well.
Its kind of like one of my conversations if I look back over it as I type. Which is weird...reading and writing two different things isn't a common skill I'm told. But hey! Whatever works and gets me through this. Anyways, back on topic...if there ever really was one...this is a mildly daunting task considering that I type pretty fast and all in all I think all kinds of random stuff so I'm likely to get a lot of space covered. Up! 6 minute mark. I think I'll just write until 15 minutes or weariness sets in...whichever is longer. I am honestly curious as to how much I can get down in one sitting if its all just random thought.
Woah...big paragraph...
Man, did you know some of my favorite bands don't even exist anymore? How gay is that!
Ugh, I really hope I can do something unique and suprising for you and with you...I really want to stand out no matter what happens. I mean, in all hopeful natures now, I don't ever ever want to have to leave. Lets just fight and then make up or look around it later. Lets work over the distances and times, lets just live together somehow. That's how I feel. Honestly its all kinds of emotional passion that trancends anything sex could describe. I don't even need sex at all to find myself lost inside you. I think that's why we're able to be so 'complete' without sex.
Anyways, I hope I can suprise you or at least be kinda sly with something. I have to get you a gift the 20th (that is your B-day in Feb right? I hope I'm not wrong >.< It'd be nice to ACTUALLY remember someone's birthday besides my brothers and my own...) and I kind of think I have something planned for the future...not sure though...I guess its something we've always kind of planned to do...right? Maybe...I'm not even sure if I am going to do it. Whatever, not a concern. I'll think about it when the time comes...else it'll bug me just like the concept of me mentioning doing ANYTHINg without specifically telling you what it is bugs you. Cause its like secrets and secrets both scare and excite you...so you prefer it to all be in the open so that you don't have to be frightened.
At least that's how I see it.
I find that to describe you kind of well. You like me for two things in particular. At least, you like me more than other people because of these two things. I'm predicitable. I will come back to you, I'll call when I say I'll call, I'll be there for you. I'm like a loyal dog. You whistle loud enough and eventually I'll stroll right back to your side. At the same time, I'm absolutely spontaneous once I'm there. I break up any monotony you have in your life and I bring a kind of lame joy and light into it. I'm good at brightening up your "I just don't want to see anyone today" days. At the same time, I'm a fun person to be around and I'm easy to introduce to your friend and family (except when I dude'd your dad...) so you don't mind taking me alone cause of my bubbliness. I just fit in with you so well and I don't make you feel trapped or cramped. In fact, sometimes I make you feel freer than usual.
Mind blank.
I like you because you're just...well...mind blank...amazing in all kinds of ways. I think I am going to invest more time to describe that since I JUST hit my 15 minute mark.
Fuck 15 minutes, its my turn to describe how I feel about you, not how I feel about how you feel about me...and my opinions thereof. You like me for whatever secret reasons you like me. Its not my business to know, else it'd influence how I act. I'll just keep being me and hope it keeps you smiling.
There's a good spot to start...I love your smile. Its just happy and brightens up anymood I'm in. Even when I demolish my eggnoodles and clean my counter with what was going to be my dinner, just your little, "I'm sorry..." and a giggle or something from my overtly lame voices are enough for me to just let it die and move on. I can find something else to eat. Its not so bad. When I make you happy, it just defeats any sadness that was encroaching on my 'ever-sunny' skies.
You make all my rainy days end in rainbows.
I felt that was corny and sweet and lame enough...and even witty enough...to get its own line. I went back and changed it just because!
I know...explainations ruin both jokes and cute moments...but its how I work.
There's another thing I love about you...well 2 things...but 1 at a time. Firstly, you're real with me. Liz and other girls...but I know you kind of like 1 upping liz so I mention her specifically here...will pretty much laugh constantly. Its the thing my brother likes in girls; that kind of ego feeding thing that you will sometimes do when you like someone. You kind of gave me a, "Ok, I'm dating you now. Lets cut the crap; its not funny anymore." The same honesty I love about, only slightly harsher. Helps keep my in check.
And I have no idea why reality and honesty made me think of your logic...but that's the second!
I love the fact that you're a logical and intelligent person. You're also humble...but we'll get there, I'll put that here as a note for later...MOVING ON.
You're logical and intelligent. You can hold a conversation with me, catch my slightly 'elevated' humor and my allusions so long as you've seen the movies or had the situation. You and I relate really well. You like playing Scrabble because you have to think logically AND tactically at the same time. Is it worth it now to use this Q? No, I can hold it. I'll use a crap word for now. I love it. Hey! Lets play chess, I always wanted to learn chess. Its such a smart game and I've always wanted to learn.
Sure love, lets play chess again. I'll play a couple of scrap games until you get the hang of it, and then I'll watch as you beat me into the ground at my own game. I can see it in your eyes when we talk, and hear it in your voice on the phone. You won't admit it until you see it, but you're a smart girl...a lot smarter than you think you are.
Touching back before I forget. You're humble and prefer to point out other people's strengths as opposed to your own. When talking of yourself you really only offer your negatives when prompted because you don't want to be pompous or assuming.
You won't make an ass out of you and me.
No, you like it when others feel good and you play to that more often than you should. Your a beautiful girl with lots of talents. You never seem to recognize yourself enough to make me content...I want you to acknowledge your beauty and your talent and your funny little quirks and your cute walk (Kelly's right, you totally have a strut). I want you to both know, and acknowledge it...but you won't and we all know it. In private you will, but in public you can't because its not your style. You're just too polite.
Its adorable, and I love it.
Sometimes, you irritate me. Our egos can collide and yours is a more...subtle. Mines a very obvious thing. I'm egocentric at times...and I'm willing to talk miles about myself. You and I have times where its more of a playful confrontation...but we both know its really a competition. Usually I back down because I can see I've lost...but there are sometimes where I don't want to back down and you put down rebellions with kisses and smart smirks.
You don't know when your beat. It bugs me so much...and yet I still love it. You have some self-respect and a spine. I wouldn't take it any other way.
Woot, its been almost 30 minutes...or has it been more? I have no idea.
I'm going to go keep the promise I made to myself. I'm going to go have a cookie and then put my retainer in...which took so long to earn, even though I kind of feel like a baby putting it in all the time...weren't retainers supposed to be something 14 year olds wore while they were going through the annoying pre-teen and early teen years, blossoming into adults? Still, I spent a long time getting to where I did with my jaw...I'll be damned if I piss it all away because I didn't wear my stupid retainer.
So I'm going to get a cookie...okay several cookies and a glass of cold milk. I can't feel my toes, but I'll be damned if I have any other temperature for my milk. Then I'm going to brush my teeth, get my work shit together. And hit the hay.
Oh, another note. I'm not sure if you've noticed...but recently I've been working on toning down my use of more...'vile' language. Its a personal thing. I kind of started listening to it and the difference it made. I actually sound a lot smarter and far more sophisticated if I just eliminate it entirely. However, I don't want to be a full full adult yet. I wanna be a young man a bit longer. 30 isn't THAT close ya know! No, cut back? Sure, but I'm still gonna let loose here and there.
Alright. Now? Yes tummy, now. Cookie time. Retainer. Bed.
Work tomorrow, 12 o'clock sharp. 5 o'clock freedom, and retreating to my home.
Ugh, raid on friday...but I'll be damned if I don't talk to you. I'll call you for sure...even if for just...
15 minutes.
1:47
Its kind of funny though, here I'm trying to get all my thoughts to be split by the breaks in paragraphs...or at least the different strains of thoughts, and I seem to be in a moment of flow because I feel other trains of conversation rushing past me as I sit here and try to get a different one out. Look, there goes the one I really wanted to segway into. I totally don't have anything to talk about now. Kind of rediculous don't you think?
Its kind of like when I open my mouth you know. I just kind of start going because I feel that I might actually say something decent if I keep up with the topic I'm on. Afterall, if you aim for something long enough you're likely to get it right don't you think?
There we go! Found what it was. Won't bug me like unknowns seem to bug you. I am too apathetic at times I guess. Funny, the change in music is what reminded me of what I wanted to say. I guess that's because I was going to mention something about the music. Cognition and stuff.
Ok, before I forget here's the first thing. It took me a long time to get into a comfortable enough spot and get the right music to play before I felt confident enough to sit down and get to work on this. I'll have you know I'm kind of sweating the idea of typing for 15 straight minutes without much stops. Its actually kind of funny because I'm typing pretty much EXACTLY what I'm thinking so it makes me feel like I'm thinking a little slower than usual. Oh well.
Its kind of like one of my conversations if I look back over it as I type. Which is weird...reading and writing two different things isn't a common skill I'm told. But hey! Whatever works and gets me through this. Anyways, back on topic...if there ever really was one...this is a mildly daunting task considering that I type pretty fast and all in all I think all kinds of random stuff so I'm likely to get a lot of space covered. Up! 6 minute mark. I think I'll just write until 15 minutes or weariness sets in...whichever is longer. I am honestly curious as to how much I can get down in one sitting if its all just random thought.
Woah...big paragraph...
Man, did you know some of my favorite bands don't even exist anymore? How gay is that!
Ugh, I really hope I can do something unique and suprising for you and with you...I really want to stand out no matter what happens. I mean, in all hopeful natures now, I don't ever ever want to have to leave. Lets just fight and then make up or look around it later. Lets work over the distances and times, lets just live together somehow. That's how I feel. Honestly its all kinds of emotional passion that trancends anything sex could describe. I don't even need sex at all to find myself lost inside you. I think that's why we're able to be so 'complete' without sex.
Anyways, I hope I can suprise you or at least be kinda sly with something. I have to get you a gift the 20th (that is your B-day in Feb right? I hope I'm not wrong >.< It'd be nice to ACTUALLY remember someone's birthday besides my brothers and my own...) and I kind of think I have something planned for the future...not sure though...I guess its something we've always kind of planned to do...right? Maybe...I'm not even sure if I am going to do it. Whatever, not a concern. I'll think about it when the time comes...else it'll bug me just like the concept of me mentioning doing ANYTHINg without specifically telling you what it is bugs you. Cause its like secrets and secrets both scare and excite you...so you prefer it to all be in the open so that you don't have to be frightened.
At least that's how I see it.
I find that to describe you kind of well. You like me for two things in particular. At least, you like me more than other people because of these two things. I'm predicitable. I will come back to you, I'll call when I say I'll call, I'll be there for you. I'm like a loyal dog. You whistle loud enough and eventually I'll stroll right back to your side. At the same time, I'm absolutely spontaneous once I'm there. I break up any monotony you have in your life and I bring a kind of lame joy and light into it. I'm good at brightening up your "I just don't want to see anyone today" days. At the same time, I'm a fun person to be around and I'm easy to introduce to your friend and family (except when I dude'd your dad...) so you don't mind taking me alone cause of my bubbliness. I just fit in with you so well and I don't make you feel trapped or cramped. In fact, sometimes I make you feel freer than usual.
Mind blank.
I like you because you're just...well...mind blank...amazing in all kinds of ways. I think I am going to invest more time to describe that since I JUST hit my 15 minute mark.
Fuck 15 minutes, its my turn to describe how I feel about you, not how I feel about how you feel about me...and my opinions thereof. You like me for whatever secret reasons you like me. Its not my business to know, else it'd influence how I act. I'll just keep being me and hope it keeps you smiling.
There's a good spot to start...I love your smile. Its just happy and brightens up anymood I'm in. Even when I demolish my eggnoodles and clean my counter with what was going to be my dinner, just your little, "I'm sorry..." and a giggle or something from my overtly lame voices are enough for me to just let it die and move on. I can find something else to eat. Its not so bad. When I make you happy, it just defeats any sadness that was encroaching on my 'ever-sunny' skies.
You make all my rainy days end in rainbows.
I felt that was corny and sweet and lame enough...and even witty enough...to get its own line. I went back and changed it just because!
I know...explainations ruin both jokes and cute moments...but its how I work.
There's another thing I love about you...well 2 things...but 1 at a time. Firstly, you're real with me. Liz and other girls...but I know you kind of like 1 upping liz so I mention her specifically here...will pretty much laugh constantly. Its the thing my brother likes in girls; that kind of ego feeding thing that you will sometimes do when you like someone. You kind of gave me a, "Ok, I'm dating you now. Lets cut the crap; its not funny anymore." The same honesty I love about, only slightly harsher. Helps keep my in check.
And I have no idea why reality and honesty made me think of your logic...but that's the second!
I love the fact that you're a logical and intelligent person. You're also humble...but we'll get there, I'll put that here as a note for later...MOVING ON.
You're logical and intelligent. You can hold a conversation with me, catch my slightly 'elevated' humor and my allusions so long as you've seen the movies or had the situation. You and I relate really well. You like playing Scrabble because you have to think logically AND tactically at the same time. Is it worth it now to use this Q? No, I can hold it. I'll use a crap word for now. I love it. Hey! Lets play chess, I always wanted to learn chess. Its such a smart game and I've always wanted to learn.
Sure love, lets play chess again. I'll play a couple of scrap games until you get the hang of it, and then I'll watch as you beat me into the ground at my own game. I can see it in your eyes when we talk, and hear it in your voice on the phone. You won't admit it until you see it, but you're a smart girl...a lot smarter than you think you are.
Touching back before I forget. You're humble and prefer to point out other people's strengths as opposed to your own. When talking of yourself you really only offer your negatives when prompted because you don't want to be pompous or assuming.
You won't make an ass out of you and me.
No, you like it when others feel good and you play to that more often than you should. Your a beautiful girl with lots of talents. You never seem to recognize yourself enough to make me content...I want you to acknowledge your beauty and your talent and your funny little quirks and your cute walk (Kelly's right, you totally have a strut). I want you to both know, and acknowledge it...but you won't and we all know it. In private you will, but in public you can't because its not your style. You're just too polite.
Its adorable, and I love it.
Sometimes, you irritate me. Our egos can collide and yours is a more...subtle. Mines a very obvious thing. I'm egocentric at times...and I'm willing to talk miles about myself. You and I have times where its more of a playful confrontation...but we both know its really a competition. Usually I back down because I can see I've lost...but there are sometimes where I don't want to back down and you put down rebellions with kisses and smart smirks.
You don't know when your beat. It bugs me so much...and yet I still love it. You have some self-respect and a spine. I wouldn't take it any other way.
Woot, its been almost 30 minutes...or has it been more? I have no idea.
I'm going to go keep the promise I made to myself. I'm going to go have a cookie and then put my retainer in...which took so long to earn, even though I kind of feel like a baby putting it in all the time...weren't retainers supposed to be something 14 year olds wore while they were going through the annoying pre-teen and early teen years, blossoming into adults? Still, I spent a long time getting to where I did with my jaw...I'll be damned if I piss it all away because I didn't wear my stupid retainer.
So I'm going to get a cookie...okay several cookies and a glass of cold milk. I can't feel my toes, but I'll be damned if I have any other temperature for my milk. Then I'm going to brush my teeth, get my work shit together. And hit the hay.
Oh, another note. I'm not sure if you've noticed...but recently I've been working on toning down my use of more...'vile' language. Its a personal thing. I kind of started listening to it and the difference it made. I actually sound a lot smarter and far more sophisticated if I just eliminate it entirely. However, I don't want to be a full full adult yet. I wanna be a young man a bit longer. 30 isn't THAT close ya know! No, cut back? Sure, but I'm still gonna let loose here and there.
Alright. Now? Yes tummy, now. Cookie time. Retainer. Bed.
Work tomorrow, 12 o'clock sharp. 5 o'clock freedom, and retreating to my home.
Ugh, raid on friday...but I'll be damned if I don't talk to you. I'll call you for sure...even if for just...
15 minutes.
1:47
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Exactly 3:00PM
It occured to me that no matter how many days I have to go without seeing you...
and even when I can't call you at night to hear your voice or wish you a good night...
and when I can't get you a gift or pay for this and that because I'm poor...
and when I can't tell you I love you every second of every day...
No matter how long my days are, or how late I get home or how bad I feel...
I'll always be able to find at least 15 minutes to get on here and remind you that my feelings haven't changed and I miss you.
Every day, even the ones I get to see you on, I miss you.
and even when I can't call you at night to hear your voice or wish you a good night...
and when I can't get you a gift or pay for this and that because I'm poor...
and when I can't tell you I love you every second of every day...
No matter how long my days are, or how late I get home or how bad I feel...
I'll always be able to find at least 15 minutes to get on here and remind you that my feelings haven't changed and I miss you.
Every day, even the ones I get to see you on, I miss you.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
At this moment, and all through the night, I feel mildly ashamed to say I reminisced vividly of times not that far gone. I missed the moments where we had more time to be alone together. Moments where I could take off your shirt and admire the way you seemed to naked and yet so protected by your bra. Moments where I could lay with you and not have a worry in the world. Moments lost in passion, where all that seems to matter is the next breath and the next kiss. I missed the moments where I could strip you down to nothing but your skin and your underwear and I could take you all in from every spot on my skin. I miss laying with you afterwards, lazily talking about this and that despite being mostly naked. The times when you'd simply hold on to me and snuggled so close I could feel your heart beat against my skin as you rested your head against my shoulder.
Strangely, I noticed that nearly all of those moments save some of the more 'bare' have happened again since. They weren't the same, no I wasn't as truly physically close to you as then, yet I found nothing lacking in them when it occured to me. As if we were closer in different ways instead of just physically.
So why is it then that I have a sudden urge to pull your shirt off and lay you down so that I might feel your skin press desperately against mine? Perhaps it is nothing more than a moment of physical lust, not that I mind. It is just unfortunate when those feelings arise at the same time as when I want to smile quietly at you while your hands carefully sketch things both intimate and beautiful or goofy and 'munstery'. Or perhaps its more unfortunate that I feel the urge to have a long conversation with you, teach you how to play chess more, or just sit around and watch tv without actually paying attention, while we are lost in the throes of passion!
Woe be to the mind which cannot make up its mind, forever lost in pensive thought regardless of its actions!
Strangely, I noticed that nearly all of those moments save some of the more 'bare' have happened again since. They weren't the same, no I wasn't as truly physically close to you as then, yet I found nothing lacking in them when it occured to me. As if we were closer in different ways instead of just physically.
So why is it then that I have a sudden urge to pull your shirt off and lay you down so that I might feel your skin press desperately against mine? Perhaps it is nothing more than a moment of physical lust, not that I mind. It is just unfortunate when those feelings arise at the same time as when I want to smile quietly at you while your hands carefully sketch things both intimate and beautiful or goofy and 'munstery'. Or perhaps its more unfortunate that I feel the urge to have a long conversation with you, teach you how to play chess more, or just sit around and watch tv without actually paying attention, while we are lost in the throes of passion!
Woe be to the mind which cannot make up its mind, forever lost in pensive thought regardless of its actions!
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Character Sketch #5
So now all you have left, is me. Who am I you ask? I'm sure you'd like to know. Well I'm the young man who is smiling as he sits across the table from Cindy, wordless as he surveys those around him and takes in the situation before him. My name is Damien Archon, head pilot here among the Chordian faction. Brad may be more accurate and lethal than me, but I've spent more time working the guns than he has. I reek of gunpowder and my hands are burned and scarred from battle missions. Black hair is kept neatly on my head and I'm hardly worth two glances. I lack words and I don't believe in dreams anymore. Although, I dreamed once.
Before the war I was just a young boy, expecting nothing more from the world than another day and a chance to get outside and play a bit of football. Grass beneath my feet, sun beating down overhead, sweat beading on my brow as I charged forwards and made instant calculations on the field. That was all I dreamed about, getting out and playing another game when the sun came up.
I hadn't changed much, although I've aged quite a bit from those days. Brad was a young one in my book, only 21 and just old enough to drink. The rest were pretty much prodigies, Ava was 16 and James only 15. Cindy was barely an adult at 18. Me, I'm 36 and the head of our forces; in other words I lead the kids in this room against trained killers.
Its a shame to take so many youths into a war which they didn't ask for, but it claimed their lives anyways. They were once more numerous, however it doesn't take much to bring down a child in times like this.
However, the war was no longer the issue, although I'd be damned if I told them that. No, a much more important issue had risen up and required addressing. The war would be ended, there was no doubt, however I was not going to let these children fall victim to what had been unleashed upon the world...
Before the war I was just a young boy, expecting nothing more from the world than another day and a chance to get outside and play a bit of football. Grass beneath my feet, sun beating down overhead, sweat beading on my brow as I charged forwards and made instant calculations on the field. That was all I dreamed about, getting out and playing another game when the sun came up.
I hadn't changed much, although I've aged quite a bit from those days. Brad was a young one in my book, only 21 and just old enough to drink. The rest were pretty much prodigies, Ava was 16 and James only 15. Cindy was barely an adult at 18. Me, I'm 36 and the head of our forces; in other words I lead the kids in this room against trained killers.
Its a shame to take so many youths into a war which they didn't ask for, but it claimed their lives anyways. They were once more numerous, however it doesn't take much to bring down a child in times like this.
However, the war was no longer the issue, although I'd be damned if I told them that. No, a much more important issue had risen up and required addressing. The war would be ended, there was no doubt, however I was not going to let these children fall victim to what had been unleashed upon the world...
Monday, January 12, 2009
If I were hope...
Where would I hide? Inside the stars and inside the sky?
Somewhere far out of reach but easily seen?
Someplace behind you, lost in your past?
Somewhere before you, awaiting you in the future?
Am I in your heart, waiting to be placed in someone else?
Am I in another's heart, waiting to be given to you?
Written on a paper, and framed on the wall?
Or under the seat, in a rusty old car?
If I were hope, where would I hide?
I wouldn't hide here, no this isn't the place.
If I were hope I daren't hide here,
Because this is where dreams go to die.
Somewhere far out of reach but easily seen?
Someplace behind you, lost in your past?
Somewhere before you, awaiting you in the future?
Am I in your heart, waiting to be placed in someone else?
Am I in another's heart, waiting to be given to you?
Written on a paper, and framed on the wall?
Or under the seat, in a rusty old car?
If I were hope, where would I hide?
I wouldn't hide here, no this isn't the place.
If I were hope I daren't hide here,
Because this is where dreams go to die.
Character Sketch #3, #4
Brad was...not what I wanted...but whatever.
Tucked away into the corner, a pair sat quietly pouring themselves over a computer. Long red hair clung to the bluish mechanic's overalls of the one on the left, the overalls rather tight against the body, revealing subtle curves and a slightly petite figure, only barely masked by the slack clothing. On the right, short blonde hair clung tightly to the pale head of the other figure who appeared to be arguing vehemenantly with the red headed girl. In front of them, a computer appeared to be rapidly processing massive amounts of data. Information from flight pattens and other such technical things, perhaps fuel consumption or even encrypted data that was being siphoned from the enemies messages and transmissions. To the untrained eye, it was as it appeared to me, nothng more than 1's and 0's flying across the screen in an unintelligible blur.
"Look, I don't see what you're getting but it's obviou-" chimed the perky voice of the red headed girl, her slender finger emerging from the right sleeve of her overalls, obviously a little too large for her despite its appearance. A tiny finger with yellow finger paint tapping against the screen as a specific pattern of the binary code emerged. However, she was interrupted immidiately as the blonde boy reached up and pushed her hand to the side and gestured to a slightly different pattern,
"No, I'd think you'd notice the message is obviously data meant to be unencrypted. See? That's the same pattern they use in every tansmision. Why don't you see it? You usually show me!"
"That's just not it." The red head frowned, turning towards the boy and away from the screen.
She was remarkably pretty for your average number crunching computer whiz at the tech stations. Although, considering Ava was the only female technological associate, it wasn't hard to be pretty when compared to nothing. Still, she wasn't exactly an eyesore. Resembling something more akin to average, she lacked many defining features and beauty marks. In fact, she had an almost boyish face, as if puberty had never turned the face into a man. Still, she had a certain charm behind her smile which kept her a bit ahead of her peers. On top of that, she knew her stuff, so she wasn't some floosy sleeping her way to a better pay check.
Beside her was the ever intriguing James Hondan, her current partner at the base. A computer whiz and genius by nearly all standards, he had been working with these systems since they came out. In fact, there were substantial rumors that he invented the system that was used within the mechs that had kept our tiny faction afloat in the war. With no backing from money or superior numbers, we ran on skill, salvaged parts, and a great amount of ingenuity.
James was admittedly dedicated to computers and found them to be his favorite thing. He would have been a programmer whether there was a war or not.
Ava on the other hand had always wanted to grow up and be a teacher. An intense interest in biology and human anatomy, she considered joining the force as a doctor. However, on her first 'field test', a little simulation program which had also been created by James, she passed out at the first sign of intense trauma injury. She was a hemophobic and thus had no future in the medical career. Still, she often passed her leasure hours reading books on both anatomy and biology.
Tucked away into the corner, a pair sat quietly pouring themselves over a computer. Long red hair clung to the bluish mechanic's overalls of the one on the left, the overalls rather tight against the body, revealing subtle curves and a slightly petite figure, only barely masked by the slack clothing. On the right, short blonde hair clung tightly to the pale head of the other figure who appeared to be arguing vehemenantly with the red headed girl. In front of them, a computer appeared to be rapidly processing massive amounts of data. Information from flight pattens and other such technical things, perhaps fuel consumption or even encrypted data that was being siphoned from the enemies messages and transmissions. To the untrained eye, it was as it appeared to me, nothng more than 1's and 0's flying across the screen in an unintelligible blur.
"Look, I don't see what you're getting but it's obviou-" chimed the perky voice of the red headed girl, her slender finger emerging from the right sleeve of her overalls, obviously a little too large for her despite its appearance. A tiny finger with yellow finger paint tapping against the screen as a specific pattern of the binary code emerged. However, she was interrupted immidiately as the blonde boy reached up and pushed her hand to the side and gestured to a slightly different pattern,
"No, I'd think you'd notice the message is obviously data meant to be unencrypted. See? That's the same pattern they use in every tansmision. Why don't you see it? You usually show me!"
"That's just not it." The red head frowned, turning towards the boy and away from the screen.
She was remarkably pretty for your average number crunching computer whiz at the tech stations. Although, considering Ava was the only female technological associate, it wasn't hard to be pretty when compared to nothing. Still, she wasn't exactly an eyesore. Resembling something more akin to average, she lacked many defining features and beauty marks. In fact, she had an almost boyish face, as if puberty had never turned the face into a man. Still, she had a certain charm behind her smile which kept her a bit ahead of her peers. On top of that, she knew her stuff, so she wasn't some floosy sleeping her way to a better pay check.
Beside her was the ever intriguing James Hondan, her current partner at the base. A computer whiz and genius by nearly all standards, he had been working with these systems since they came out. In fact, there were substantial rumors that he invented the system that was used within the mechs that had kept our tiny faction afloat in the war. With no backing from money or superior numbers, we ran on skill, salvaged parts, and a great amount of ingenuity.
James was admittedly dedicated to computers and found them to be his favorite thing. He would have been a programmer whether there was a war or not.
Ava on the other hand had always wanted to grow up and be a teacher. An intense interest in biology and human anatomy, she considered joining the force as a doctor. However, on her first 'field test', a little simulation program which had also been created by James, she passed out at the first sign of intense trauma injury. She was a hemophobic and thus had no future in the medical career. Still, she often passed her leasure hours reading books on both anatomy and biology.
Character Sketch #2
Ok, so Cindy wasn't anything like the character I had come up with...I kind of just rolled with a tangent...but I like it. Moving on! Dreamed this guy up after I rolled over and realized I wasn't going to get sleep last night (this morning).
Across from Cindy was te ever confident, ever dashing, smirk that had become Brad's callsign. A man so deadly he'd made #1 on every KOS list held by every sniper on the Ledian offensive. Yet, one would never assume he was a capable killer by his pretty-boy exterior and his boyish good looks. In fact, this man was out of place if he were anywhere but on a magazine cover. Still, no one was going to complain about having him among the ranks of trained men who went to war in this day, there weren't enough soldiers to go around anymore.
"Well, excuse me for having my opinion," he remarked, chuckling a little as he grinned, "I just felt that keepin' a low profile would help make sure people like us aren't going to be like everybody else. You know," he paused, "dead?"
He was leaned against the table, his back towards where I sat, and his arms were crossed out of sight. Despite all his physique he was hardly a tall man, and it was increasingly obvious that Cindy, who wasn't even six feet tall, was going to tower over this man. Still, he took advantage of the moment, using his leverage to crane over her a little from where he sat beside her. One could have almost assumed he was attempting to hit on her if it weren't for his well-circulated list of floosies he'd bounced between. Every one of those women were unfit for militant assignment, as well as hard labor, too prim and pretty to do anything besides desk work. Brad was the kind of good looking man who dated women with more breast then brains.
Although not scrawny, he was skinny and lanky, much of his height was in his legs as opposed to his torso, where one would expect a man to be built. Such an appearance made it doubtful as to his lethality on the field. However, the trained eye noted the faint smear of oil around his right eye, a personal touch really, but his own way of marking himself as a sniper. His face was always calmly set into either a partially smirked kind of indifference, or the half-smile half-grin he'd trademarked in his last few years in the service. Even being the room with him for only a few moments you could see him change back and forth between the two several times. It fit him somehow, he seemed a little better if he wasn't that complex. He wore a flight jacket, a little gift he swore was from his father. It was faded from wear and the neck was folded, as per usual with those jackets, revealing the fleece coating which made it both light and comfortable. He set that off with a simple pair of blue jeans, not baggy but not too tight.
"All I'm saying is that I'm not keen on riding a tank into combat. Shit, I've got shells which could put a tank out of commision, and my rifle ain't even that big. Go it on foot baby, that's the way."
Across from Cindy was te ever confident, ever dashing, smirk that had become Brad's callsign. A man so deadly he'd made #1 on every KOS list held by every sniper on the Ledian offensive. Yet, one would never assume he was a capable killer by his pretty-boy exterior and his boyish good looks. In fact, this man was out of place if he were anywhere but on a magazine cover. Still, no one was going to complain about having him among the ranks of trained men who went to war in this day, there weren't enough soldiers to go around anymore.
"Well, excuse me for having my opinion," he remarked, chuckling a little as he grinned, "I just felt that keepin' a low profile would help make sure people like us aren't going to be like everybody else. You know," he paused, "dead?"
He was leaned against the table, his back towards where I sat, and his arms were crossed out of sight. Despite all his physique he was hardly a tall man, and it was increasingly obvious that Cindy, who wasn't even six feet tall, was going to tower over this man. Still, he took advantage of the moment, using his leverage to crane over her a little from where he sat beside her. One could have almost assumed he was attempting to hit on her if it weren't for his well-circulated list of floosies he'd bounced between. Every one of those women were unfit for militant assignment, as well as hard labor, too prim and pretty to do anything besides desk work. Brad was the kind of good looking man who dated women with more breast then brains.
Although not scrawny, he was skinny and lanky, much of his height was in his legs as opposed to his torso, where one would expect a man to be built. Such an appearance made it doubtful as to his lethality on the field. However, the trained eye noted the faint smear of oil around his right eye, a personal touch really, but his own way of marking himself as a sniper. His face was always calmly set into either a partially smirked kind of indifference, or the half-smile half-grin he'd trademarked in his last few years in the service. Even being the room with him for only a few moments you could see him change back and forth between the two several times. It fit him somehow, he seemed a little better if he wasn't that complex. He wore a flight jacket, a little gift he swore was from his father. It was faded from wear and the neck was folded, as per usual with those jackets, revealing the fleece coating which made it both light and comfortable. He set that off with a simple pair of blue jeans, not baggy but not too tight.
"All I'm saying is that I'm not keen on riding a tank into combat. Shit, I've got shells which could put a tank out of commision, and my rifle ain't even that big. Go it on foot baby, that's the way."
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Character Sketch #1
Came up with him after several long hours wasting a Thursday on Final Fantasy. Go figure. Alright, we're off...
"I don't see how that's a good idea!" she barked, a raspy, almost masculine voice continued, "Sneaky isn't my kind of thing." The voice belonged to a rather rough looking female who leaned against the table, her hands pressed against the metallic surface as if she were trying to push it into the ground. Yet, despite her rough voice, she had slender arms. Her wrists and hands were petite, almost pretty, save the roughly cut nails. No shine of polish or care had been given to them, and the edges were chipped and scarred from rough work. A brush of hair slunk across her forearms, which seemed to gradually grow as they approached the elbow and then rode up her biceps. Her shoulders were broad and she sat up tall, making no attempt to hide it. The table hid her legs, but one would assume there were fairly muscular as well. She wore a sleeveless white shirt and her chest was built for work, not beauty. There was almost no sign of breasts or other femanine traits beneath that shirt; Below the neck she appeared as if she were little more than a muscular man. Yet, her slender neck seeme slightly out of place, lacking the same bulge that would denote a larger voice box or an adam's apple. Instead, it was smooth and led up towards her face rather neatly. Despite her rough features below and the lack of a refined 'hour-glass' shape commonly associated with females, she had a rather pretty face. A tight jawline and nicely set cheek bones, one could almost say she was beautiful. Yet, she still lacked refinement in many things. A cigarette seemed to hang off the left end of her lip, even when she talked. Her hair was slashed short, only slightly longer than a buzz cut, and kept messy. Her eyes were hard, and there were several very notable scars and burns along her cheek.
Cindy was once her daddy's little girl. Before the world went to hell, she had wanted to grow up and be a gymnast. Her frame was never suitable for it, but she was such a hard worker chances are she'd have at least made herself a good sportswoman. Still, things didn't turn out the way she'd have liked. The Great War carried on into her young adulthood and she decided she could learn a more practical skill. She took up engine working and quickly made a name for herself. Shortly after deeming herself a master with civilian machinery, she joined up with the military and found herself working everything from Mechs to Aircraft Carrier and even a couple of the inter-planetary cruisers that frequented the boneyards...
(TBC, most likely with additional characters sitting inside the command room Cindy is in. I'm thinking about turning this into a story...just to keep me sane!)
"I don't see how that's a good idea!" she barked, a raspy, almost masculine voice continued, "Sneaky isn't my kind of thing." The voice belonged to a rather rough looking female who leaned against the table, her hands pressed against the metallic surface as if she were trying to push it into the ground. Yet, despite her rough voice, she had slender arms. Her wrists and hands were petite, almost pretty, save the roughly cut nails. No shine of polish or care had been given to them, and the edges were chipped and scarred from rough work. A brush of hair slunk across her forearms, which seemed to gradually grow as they approached the elbow and then rode up her biceps. Her shoulders were broad and she sat up tall, making no attempt to hide it. The table hid her legs, but one would assume there were fairly muscular as well. She wore a sleeveless white shirt and her chest was built for work, not beauty. There was almost no sign of breasts or other femanine traits beneath that shirt; Below the neck she appeared as if she were little more than a muscular man. Yet, her slender neck seeme slightly out of place, lacking the same bulge that would denote a larger voice box or an adam's apple. Instead, it was smooth and led up towards her face rather neatly. Despite her rough features below and the lack of a refined 'hour-glass' shape commonly associated with females, she had a rather pretty face. A tight jawline and nicely set cheek bones, one could almost say she was beautiful. Yet, she still lacked refinement in many things. A cigarette seemed to hang off the left end of her lip, even when she talked. Her hair was slashed short, only slightly longer than a buzz cut, and kept messy. Her eyes were hard, and there were several very notable scars and burns along her cheek.
Cindy was once her daddy's little girl. Before the world went to hell, she had wanted to grow up and be a gymnast. Her frame was never suitable for it, but she was such a hard worker chances are she'd have at least made herself a good sportswoman. Still, things didn't turn out the way she'd have liked. The Great War carried on into her young adulthood and she decided she could learn a more practical skill. She took up engine working and quickly made a name for herself. Shortly after deeming herself a master with civilian machinery, she joined up with the military and found herself working everything from Mechs to Aircraft Carrier and even a couple of the inter-planetary cruisers that frequented the boneyards...
(TBC, most likely with additional characters sitting inside the command room Cindy is in. I'm thinking about turning this into a story...just to keep me sane!)
Saturday, January 10, 2009
3:04am
and my mind is a jumble. Sleep just won't come,
I think I might crumble. The thoughts are intense,
but lack a true center. Who would have thought,
that I could love her.
The way that we are. It reminds me of all,
the simple stupid smiles. How many places,
can I take her in my car. No where exotic enough,
to entertain her wit and wiles.
My darling girl, it won't snow, where he is going.
I think I might crumble. The thoughts are intense,
but lack a true center. Who would have thought,
that I could love her.
The way that we are. It reminds me of all,
the simple stupid smiles. How many places,
can I take her in my car. No where exotic enough,
to entertain her wit and wiles.
My darling girl, it won't snow, where he is going.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Always...
I never feel like what I'm going to say is right. I'm afraid of what I think and what I want to say. When I'm over that fear, I no longer know what I want to say, and when I don't have that fear, I don't have anything to say. Nothing I say is ever righter than the wrong you've grown so accustomed to loving already, and nothing is ever wronger than the exact same charming incoherant phrases I spew when I lack anything to finish my thoughts.
Oh my dear, there is so much I wish I could say to you if I could only think of it when I'm not afraid of what I might say. I wish I could have a chance to take a chance that I wouldn't fear so much that I forget it when the bravery arrives to speak up.
I wanna say things I can't comprehend or understand in ways that are beyond my vocabulary and all of my synonyms. With so few antonyms, I can't even begin to describe it with oppositions, as it will only understate what I wish I could hope to say.
Its so far from me, I can only wish I could wish for it...but I know its there.
Shine brightly my star,
Always...shine brightly...
So that you may guide me home...
Guide me home to you...
Oh my dear, there is so much I wish I could say to you if I could only think of it when I'm not afraid of what I might say. I wish I could have a chance to take a chance that I wouldn't fear so much that I forget it when the bravery arrives to speak up.
I wanna say things I can't comprehend or understand in ways that are beyond my vocabulary and all of my synonyms. With so few antonyms, I can't even begin to describe it with oppositions, as it will only understate what I wish I could hope to say.
Its so far from me, I can only wish I could wish for it...but I know its there.
Shine brightly my star,
Always...shine brightly...
So that you may guide me home...
Guide me home to you...
Karma 102: Not just for Buddhists!
I guess I'm on a roll. Music and late nights seems to wake up the writer in me, or at least the random invented or personalized fact stater within me. Who cares? I don't.
Karma, as stated before, is a never-ending optimistic view on everything in life. Its a system where the believer is rewarded for doing what is right. It is also commonly believed to be directly associated with Buddhism and associated as being the core belief in the religion. I.E. if you believe in Karma, you are a buddhist.
I think that's highly unfair and entirely untrue.
From this stems a personal, controversial, belief of mine own that I will happily argue or at least stand behind. All religions, at the heart, are the exact same. Thus, I believe religion is simply a man-made system of beliefs which guides us in a far more humble median (which in itself has its own proofs of vanity...but that's for some other "I'm feeling opinionated" night.)
(I don't know where this writing urge came from...but I like, I feel really smart right now. Or at least opinionated!)
Mankind refuses to believe things can happen because...*deep breath* nothing. Hell, I sound and feel crazy thinking it. Who knows, I could be! However, don't all religions point out some kind of central system which is supposed to make us act in a certain way which is right, and condemn certain actions as wrong or bad?
Were not the mentally handicapped once ostricized and banished and stoned to death because they were believed to be possessed by the devil or by bad spirits or by demons? Murders were of a similar take as well! They were simply bizzarely different (not that I condone murder...don't put words in my mouth here...) in how they acted or their morale code.
This didn't coincide with the morale code which God, Buddha, and other such dieties placed upon man kind. Their actions were either strange and required some form of healing...or were outright wrong, requiring punishment or atonement.
Mankind, even in its most innocent however, was still guilty. Monks of all sects and divisions of asian religions (and the Hindu) pray for enlightenment and rebirth concepts. The closer to enlightenment, the closer to the heavens you get. Those who worship the bible, of which there are many sects and divisions of their own, all preach some form of praying for forgiveness, or at least a pre-destined salvation (Calvinists? I'm unsure.) through which mankind could be redeemed from some kind of mortal sin or, in the case of many Asian-continental religions, lack of understanding.
Now, I'm not saying religion is "Mankinds way of pointing out what they don't know..." or some other 'pro-science, pro-evolution, pro-big-bang' hoo-doo. I'm just saying, isn't that pretty much EVERY religion of modern society in a nutshell?
1 God, many gods, however many you have or believe in, they all preach a morale code.
Maybe religion is just mankind refusing to take credit for their own morality!
What if religion is simply mankind (although vain in saying we're shaped after some almighty being and thus are A-mazing for it) trying to give their all-guiding sense of morality a 'works-cited'.
Since just about ALL of society believes killing another human is bad...wouldn't that make certain forms of sense?
All I'm saying is that, Karma and other morale codes can apply to any religion at its core.
Same with just about everything. Break it down to its core, and you can apply it everywhere.
Basic english is used in basic math...and basic math is found in basic english (or any other language...lets try and have Zack ACTUALLY be politically correct here...)
Example needed? Try iambic pentameter my friends.
Basic english (or another language...) is needed for basic science.
Not obvious enough? Explain to me ANYTHING scientific in ANYWAY without using words. Heck, give me 1000 numbers and I might think you're just doing complex math. Also, without a language...you aren't allowed to use variables...yea that's right...k can't be used to substitute for the flexibility of your awesome slinky (which wouldn't exist if this things didn't work together...AND SLINKYS ARE AWESOME) which would make the comprehension, let alone the possibility, of physics far more daunting than it already is.
Karma, being an optimistic outlook in which you are rewarded for acting in a positive way towards others...and are repaid for the moments of strife with brighter days later...
Is pretty much like Heaven. Do good things, repent for your sins, and be nice to people no matter the circumstances and one day you'll walk through the pearly gates and into eternal salvation.
Its also pretty much enlightenment. Do good things, learn from everyone you meet, which usually requires you to help them so they may help you without their knowing. You gain by giving, and you will one day know enough to join all those who found enlightenment before you, then you too will be reborn amongst the heavens.
Religion may indeed exist...let me not say otherwise. Hell, I'd love to believe there's a higher power. There are days where I doubt...sure...
But if I live life as a good person, doubting or not, I'm pretty much set.
After all, I'm only human you know! I'm not perfect.
Karma, as stated before, is a never-ending optimistic view on everything in life. Its a system where the believer is rewarded for doing what is right. It is also commonly believed to be directly associated with Buddhism and associated as being the core belief in the religion. I.E. if you believe in Karma, you are a buddhist.
I think that's highly unfair and entirely untrue.
From this stems a personal, controversial, belief of mine own that I will happily argue or at least stand behind. All religions, at the heart, are the exact same. Thus, I believe religion is simply a man-made system of beliefs which guides us in a far more humble median (which in itself has its own proofs of vanity...but that's for some other "I'm feeling opinionated" night.)
(I don't know where this writing urge came from...but I like, I feel really smart right now. Or at least opinionated!)
Mankind refuses to believe things can happen because...*deep breath* nothing. Hell, I sound and feel crazy thinking it. Who knows, I could be! However, don't all religions point out some kind of central system which is supposed to make us act in a certain way which is right, and condemn certain actions as wrong or bad?
Were not the mentally handicapped once ostricized and banished and stoned to death because they were believed to be possessed by the devil or by bad spirits or by demons? Murders were of a similar take as well! They were simply bizzarely different (not that I condone murder...don't put words in my mouth here...) in how they acted or their morale code.
This didn't coincide with the morale code which God, Buddha, and other such dieties placed upon man kind. Their actions were either strange and required some form of healing...or were outright wrong, requiring punishment or atonement.
Mankind, even in its most innocent however, was still guilty. Monks of all sects and divisions of asian religions (and the Hindu) pray for enlightenment and rebirth concepts. The closer to enlightenment, the closer to the heavens you get. Those who worship the bible, of which there are many sects and divisions of their own, all preach some form of praying for forgiveness, or at least a pre-destined salvation (Calvinists? I'm unsure.) through which mankind could be redeemed from some kind of mortal sin or, in the case of many Asian-continental religions, lack of understanding.
Now, I'm not saying religion is "Mankinds way of pointing out what they don't know..." or some other 'pro-science, pro-evolution, pro-big-bang' hoo-doo. I'm just saying, isn't that pretty much EVERY religion of modern society in a nutshell?
1 God, many gods, however many you have or believe in, they all preach a morale code.
Maybe religion is just mankind refusing to take credit for their own morality!
What if religion is simply mankind (although vain in saying we're shaped after some almighty being and thus are A-mazing for it) trying to give their all-guiding sense of morality a 'works-cited'.
Since just about ALL of society believes killing another human is bad...wouldn't that make certain forms of sense?
All I'm saying is that, Karma and other morale codes can apply to any religion at its core.
Same with just about everything. Break it down to its core, and you can apply it everywhere.
Basic english is used in basic math...and basic math is found in basic english (or any other language...lets try and have Zack ACTUALLY be politically correct here...)
Example needed? Try iambic pentameter my friends.
Basic english (or another language...) is needed for basic science.
Not obvious enough? Explain to me ANYTHING scientific in ANYWAY without using words. Heck, give me 1000 numbers and I might think you're just doing complex math. Also, without a language...you aren't allowed to use variables...yea that's right...k can't be used to substitute for the flexibility of your awesome slinky (which wouldn't exist if this things didn't work together...AND SLINKYS ARE AWESOME) which would make the comprehension, let alone the possibility, of physics far more daunting than it already is.
Karma, being an optimistic outlook in which you are rewarded for acting in a positive way towards others...and are repaid for the moments of strife with brighter days later...
Is pretty much like Heaven. Do good things, repent for your sins, and be nice to people no matter the circumstances and one day you'll walk through the pearly gates and into eternal salvation.
Its also pretty much enlightenment. Do good things, learn from everyone you meet, which usually requires you to help them so they may help you without their knowing. You gain by giving, and you will one day know enough to join all those who found enlightenment before you, then you too will be reborn amongst the heavens.
Religion may indeed exist...let me not say otherwise. Hell, I'd love to believe there's a higher power. There are days where I doubt...sure...
But if I live life as a good person, doubting or not, I'm pretty much set.
After all, I'm only human you know! I'm not perfect.
Karma 101: Taking it for the team
Ah, such a glorious idea, perhaps the only system in all of mankind which appeals to a procrastinater. The entire concept is something that revolves around putting things off, both bad and good, until later. It turns life into a giant pilgrimage which one can never truly complete due to the inate fact that it requires you to finish in order to see if you actually get anything along the way. Obviously, good things come to those who wait...at least thats how the system appears to work in theory.
Theory is always something I've enjoyed. It requires no skill, no practice, and only a minimal understanding of anything. Theory is talk. Talk is cheap. So theory is worth absolutely nothing until proven. So how can a system based entirely on chance and some ultimate reward or punishment truly be tested and proven? Well, why try to test what will answer itself tomorrow. Pretty much the penchant in karma.
Or is it?
I personally would like to disagree. I've spent a life-time of dealing with a less-than-understanding family and a take-everything-for-granted brother. I've been stabbed in the back and walked all over. I've lost just about everything I'd put value into at one point in time. I've been so low, morally at least, that I doubted I could get much lower without being utterly abandoned. Yet, here I am at the pinnacle of existance, itchy and restless when I'm lonely. I have good friends with similar intrests, I have an amazing girlfriend who means the world over to me, and I lived to see a new year 19 times so far.
I don't think that's half bad, what about you? Sure, one could say that the higher you get, the farther you'll fall...but who's to say you don't fall first, and then pick yourself back up? Who's to say I won't keep rising? If everything that I'd considered valuable had been stripped from me at one point, left me decadent morally and emotionally, then I'd have to say I'd hit a pretty low place once in my life. It'd be hard to get there again...I'd have to lose all my friends, move to a country where I had no understanding of the language and no common ground with the people, be stripped of any family bonds, and have my girlfriend tell me I'll never be good enough for anyone...
Yea, that might rival where I was a couple years ago.
Might. I was likely lower, as I was younger and felt overwhelmed by it all. Having experienced it before, I'd likely use a bit of my experience and make it seem less low...or find some way to cope. Come on, I have to grow up some day right?
No, right now I feel as if I'm living proof of karma. I fell low, and now I've risen high. I won't take it for granted, I do my best to be my best every day. Give every man and woman I meet the best smile I can muster and the friendliest comment I can small-talk up. Even with all of 15 cents to my name, I think I could make it by on a hope and a prayer and a bit of the good will my friends would offer me as I struggle to make a living in the world. Even though I feel as if there is no hope for me sometimes, as if I'm drifting without a goal, and as if college is simply more school pointing me in a vague direction with no end in sight...I think I can make it.
Karma is more than the lazy man's system of beliefs in which you get paid back for what you do and what you don't do...its the ultimate optimists outlook on life. If I do good things, eventually I will recieve good things. If bad things happen to me, eventually good things will arrive to even them out. If I am in a good place, good things will happen to me so long as I remain in good spirits.
Karma is about taking it for the team. Every dime I've ever earned for any reason at any time has been spent on someone besides myself...unless I absolutely needed something to eat or drink. If it wasn't spent on someone else entirely...it was spent so that I could enjoy something with someone else on their whim. I'm a poor man because I invest in my friends, in those I hold dear to me, and in those who believe in me. To them, money may be the problem or the barrier to what they want and what they need. To me, their belief and their happiness is worth more to me than anything you can comprehend.
If following Karma, which if I recall is a buddhist teaching, leaves me a poor and humble man (well...humble generally means humility...and I'm not that :P) then so be it. So long as my friends are happy and they continue to believe in me, I'll spend my poverty among the ones I love.
Theory is always something I've enjoyed. It requires no skill, no practice, and only a minimal understanding of anything. Theory is talk. Talk is cheap. So theory is worth absolutely nothing until proven. So how can a system based entirely on chance and some ultimate reward or punishment truly be tested and proven? Well, why try to test what will answer itself tomorrow. Pretty much the penchant in karma.
Or is it?
I personally would like to disagree. I've spent a life-time of dealing with a less-than-understanding family and a take-everything-for-granted brother. I've been stabbed in the back and walked all over. I've lost just about everything I'd put value into at one point in time. I've been so low, morally at least, that I doubted I could get much lower without being utterly abandoned. Yet, here I am at the pinnacle of existance, itchy and restless when I'm lonely. I have good friends with similar intrests, I have an amazing girlfriend who means the world over to me, and I lived to see a new year 19 times so far.
I don't think that's half bad, what about you? Sure, one could say that the higher you get, the farther you'll fall...but who's to say you don't fall first, and then pick yourself back up? Who's to say I won't keep rising? If everything that I'd considered valuable had been stripped from me at one point, left me decadent morally and emotionally, then I'd have to say I'd hit a pretty low place once in my life. It'd be hard to get there again...I'd have to lose all my friends, move to a country where I had no understanding of the language and no common ground with the people, be stripped of any family bonds, and have my girlfriend tell me I'll never be good enough for anyone...
Yea, that might rival where I was a couple years ago.
Might. I was likely lower, as I was younger and felt overwhelmed by it all. Having experienced it before, I'd likely use a bit of my experience and make it seem less low...or find some way to cope. Come on, I have to grow up some day right?
No, right now I feel as if I'm living proof of karma. I fell low, and now I've risen high. I won't take it for granted, I do my best to be my best every day. Give every man and woman I meet the best smile I can muster and the friendliest comment I can small-talk up. Even with all of 15 cents to my name, I think I could make it by on a hope and a prayer and a bit of the good will my friends would offer me as I struggle to make a living in the world. Even though I feel as if there is no hope for me sometimes, as if I'm drifting without a goal, and as if college is simply more school pointing me in a vague direction with no end in sight...I think I can make it.
Karma is more than the lazy man's system of beliefs in which you get paid back for what you do and what you don't do...its the ultimate optimists outlook on life. If I do good things, eventually I will recieve good things. If bad things happen to me, eventually good things will arrive to even them out. If I am in a good place, good things will happen to me so long as I remain in good spirits.
Karma is about taking it for the team. Every dime I've ever earned for any reason at any time has been spent on someone besides myself...unless I absolutely needed something to eat or drink. If it wasn't spent on someone else entirely...it was spent so that I could enjoy something with someone else on their whim. I'm a poor man because I invest in my friends, in those I hold dear to me, and in those who believe in me. To them, money may be the problem or the barrier to what they want and what they need. To me, their belief and their happiness is worth more to me than anything you can comprehend.
If following Karma, which if I recall is a buddhist teaching, leaves me a poor and humble man (well...humble generally means humility...and I'm not that :P) then so be it. So long as my friends are happy and they continue to believe in me, I'll spend my poverty among the ones I love.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Ocean Breathes Salty
I want to travel again...feel the wind at my back and the breeze on my face...Isn't it hard to have them both going at the same time though? Who cares, its how I want it all to be. Isn't everything in this world about achieving what you need to live the life you have the way you want it? Well, I want to live my life on the road for a little bit sometime soon. I need help, but I'll do it on my own if I have to. Traveling is my life...even if I have to get myself lost somewhere here at 'home'
Have I ever mentioned that my two favorite things are the smell of salty sea air...and the sting of cold air when its inhaled too fast?
I love mountains, and the ocean, and the winding back roads of the inland interstate which is hardly more than a road into nowhere which gets you to somewhere after passing nearly everywhere. How wonderful it would be to spend all those sometimes as anytimes with you as my someone to get lost with.
I'm holding my breath, oh dear I've stopped breathing.
I've got to wait two years, will you hold your breath with me?
Have I ever mentioned that my two favorite things are the smell of salty sea air...and the sting of cold air when its inhaled too fast?
I love mountains, and the ocean, and the winding back roads of the inland interstate which is hardly more than a road into nowhere which gets you to somewhere after passing nearly everywhere. How wonderful it would be to spend all those sometimes as anytimes with you as my someone to get lost with.
I'm holding my breath, oh dear I've stopped breathing.
I've got to wait two years, will you hold your breath with me?
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Inspired by Justen
"What makes you think I'm insane?" he posed, tilting his head curiously as he smiled wider. The grotesquely huge grin reflected off the metallic blade he held, cocked sideways like a cobra, prepared to strike. "Do you believe this is insanity?" his voice hinted at his own enjoyment of his words, "That I am insane? You know nothing," anger graced his face for a moment, then composure ensued as he finished, "of insanity my friend. All you see is imagination run wild!"
"Insanity...it is little more than those who are freed from their minds...but bound by their bodies. Discarded by society, they wander freely, beyond their legs and skin." Lifting the knife up, only his eyes were reflected in the dim moonlight as he let the blade rise closer to his lips. "The insane are more free than you or I could ever hope to be. My dear, what I wish to do to you is a gift. I want to free your spirit so you too can wander, unhindered, into the abyss you consider insanity."
Grinning, he lifted his arm as he spoke one last time, "You wanted to be an artist...and I shall offer you more inspiration than you could imagine!"
"Insanity...it is little more than those who are freed from their minds...but bound by their bodies. Discarded by society, they wander freely, beyond their legs and skin." Lifting the knife up, only his eyes were reflected in the dim moonlight as he let the blade rise closer to his lips. "The insane are more free than you or I could ever hope to be. My dear, what I wish to do to you is a gift. I want to free your spirit so you too can wander, unhindered, into the abyss you consider insanity."
Grinning, he lifted his arm as he spoke one last time, "You wanted to be an artist...and I shall offer you more inspiration than you could imagine!"
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Did you post something new today?
Not a thing, except blind passion. My dear let me lay beside you for hours. You know I want nothing less than to be yours and nothing more. Take from me my silly quirks and all my stupid moments. Enjoy the fact that there's no one else I'd rather be with. Dear, I think it could last forever if you'll let it.
I can't wait until wednesday.
I can't wait until wednesday.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Learn to talk in 1's and 0's
Black and white, Right and wrong, Past and present,
Here and now lets learn the difference,
In the way that we can see it.
Up and down, Left and right, Back and forth,
Its how we'll control it. Honey can't you
Taste it, in the air hanging over head tonight?
Lovely lady, talk to me, tell me all the pressing things
On your mind, and in your dress, baby what a lovely dress.
Then it all breaks down and I lose the grips on the song I'm writing. Off to clean the kitchen then!
Here and now lets learn the difference,
In the way that we can see it.
Up and down, Left and right, Back and forth,
Its how we'll control it. Honey can't you
Taste it, in the air hanging over head tonight?
Lovely lady, talk to me, tell me all the pressing things
On your mind, and in your dress, baby what a lovely dress.
Then it all breaks down and I lose the grips on the song I'm writing. Off to clean the kitchen then!
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Nope, still not doing it.
Dim light, warm and inviting, pricks the back of my eyelids. Velvet soft feelings dance beneath my fingertips, beckoning them to press against it and guide it. Like feeling the ocean ebb and flow around you. Wrapping softly, yet firmly, around my waist as it surges forwards and longs to push it self against every curve as completely as possible. A rushing euphoric pulsing body pressed tightly, ignoring the clothing between the embrace, longing for nothing more than to share a bed, a breath, a heartbeat.
Then red floods the backs of my eyelids. Lust in technicolor, high definition surround sound passion. Flicker then stop, deep breaths bring the black shades back into the closed eyes. Receding tides allow for another moment of adulterated love. Steady breathing resumes, warm breath against the neck, a single nail futilely presses against polyester clothing. Now skin, no barrier. Cut through the roads less traveled and the unbeaten paths. Follow the yellow brick road.
Crimson tides roll in. Follow the white rabbit.
Then red floods the backs of my eyelids. Lust in technicolor, high definition surround sound passion. Flicker then stop, deep breaths bring the black shades back into the closed eyes. Receding tides allow for another moment of adulterated love. Steady breathing resumes, warm breath against the neck, a single nail futilely presses against polyester clothing. Now skin, no barrier. Cut through the roads less traveled and the unbeaten paths. Follow the yellow brick road.
Crimson tides roll in. Follow the white rabbit.
It doesn't come out right. Ever.
I miss your voice,
Oh Dear
Its a beautiful thing.
Dear lady,
I want to hear it again,
My baby,
I want to hear it sing.
No, nothing comes out right for you anymore.
Once, twice, I'm sold.
Like a discount rack.
All the good deals are
Gone.
Did you get what you came for?
I hope it was perfect.
Darling,
do you wear it round your neck?
does it grace your finger?
sport it on your wrist?
wrap it round your ankle?
Lover
does your treasure sparkle?
like a diamond?
a star?
a wish?
Oh I hope its perfect,
you know I'd settle for nothing
less than what I have left to
Give.
Its what I'm good at
after all its all I can say I'm worth
are pennies.
cheap tricks for a carnival
Trick
or treat me sweetheart,
just give me something to go on
throw me something or I just might
Sink
into every inch of you,
so deeply they'll never find me.
is that enough for you to lose me
in yourself
of all places to lose something
its the one place you think
you know best.
So lose me,
but love what you've lost,
just lose me in you.
I miss your voice,
Oh Dear
Its a beautiful thing.
Dear lady,
I want to hear it again,
My baby,
I want to hear it sing.
No, nothing comes out right for you anymore.
Once, twice, I'm sold.
Like a discount rack.
All the good deals are
Gone.
Did you get what you came for?
I hope it was perfect.
Darling,
do you wear it round your neck?
does it grace your finger?
sport it on your wrist?
wrap it round your ankle?
Lover
does your treasure sparkle?
like a diamond?
a star?
a wish?
Oh I hope its perfect,
you know I'd settle for nothing
less than what I have left to
Give.
Its what I'm good at
after all its all I can say I'm worth
are pennies.
cheap tricks for a carnival
Trick
or treat me sweetheart,
just give me something to go on
throw me something or I just might
Sink
into every inch of you,
so deeply they'll never find me.
is that enough for you to lose me
in yourself
of all places to lose something
its the one place you think
you know best.
So lose me,
but love what you've lost,
just lose me in you.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Contingency
N. 1 - having something to do when everything else goes wrong. 2 - a different way of doing things besides that of the usual. 3 - the 'oh shit' plan.
I wish I was inspired enough to write good things again. I can't seem to get in touch with my creative side anymore. Nothing seems to reach deep enough lately whenever I have paper within reach. Maybe my imagination is dying with age or being stifled by everything around me.
I don't really know or care anymore. I guess maybe it might have something to do with the apathy. Whatever.
Lately, every day just feels like a chore. Getting up with hardly anything to look forwards to beside a one-way conversation with my parents and an opportunity to dream again.
Dreaming is amazing...it lets my imagination go wild. Sadly...I don't remember many of my dreams anymore. Only the same ones seem to reach out to me now.
I miss your kisses.
I wish I was inspired enough to write good things again. I can't seem to get in touch with my creative side anymore. Nothing seems to reach deep enough lately whenever I have paper within reach. Maybe my imagination is dying with age or being stifled by everything around me.
I don't really know or care anymore. I guess maybe it might have something to do with the apathy. Whatever.
Lately, every day just feels like a chore. Getting up with hardly anything to look forwards to beside a one-way conversation with my parents and an opportunity to dream again.
Dreaming is amazing...it lets my imagination go wild. Sadly...I don't remember many of my dreams anymore. Only the same ones seem to reach out to me now.
I miss your kisses.
Tightrope.
There once was a boy, oh I knew him so well,
Who wanted to be famous and tell the world how he felt.
He wanted to walk the tightrope wires in the circus,
Oh such a dreamer he made me smile.
He wanted to share it, that feeling he felt,
To write it in books so everyone would know.
Alas, he didn't make the cut, see at 16
He failed the greatest walk he'd ever had.
At 16 I lost my greatest friend, but not a thing
He said had gone to waste, no my dear, not a word.
See, I heard it clear, from his heart, every single
Strangled and complicated emotion he felt,
As he balanced carefully from one end to another.
Oh such euphoria, it can only compare to the way
the heart seems balanced when in love or lost
in passion so pure that there is no direction to go!
Who wanted to be famous and tell the world how he felt.
He wanted to walk the tightrope wires in the circus,
Oh such a dreamer he made me smile.
He wanted to share it, that feeling he felt,
To write it in books so everyone would know.
Alas, he didn't make the cut, see at 16
He failed the greatest walk he'd ever had.
At 16 I lost my greatest friend, but not a thing
He said had gone to waste, no my dear, not a word.
See, I heard it clear, from his heart, every single
Strangled and complicated emotion he felt,
As he balanced carefully from one end to another.
Oh such euphoria, it can only compare to the way
the heart seems balanced when in love or lost
in passion so pure that there is no direction to go!
Friday, January 2, 2009
I won't say a word...
Early bird, night owl, baby every moment I spend it thinking of you.
I know its not yet, but I know I won't have a dime to get your a gift or anything. On top of that, you'll be going to school on the 5th too. Shame shame shame. Still, life is life and we take it as it comes to us.
There's a thousand songs that remind me of you, and a handful that remind me of us. You know what I mean and you know what I think. Its all kinds of amazing. Just like you after all.
I know watching me cope and listening to me deal with all this stress and chaos is painful and frightening for you. I don't want you to be afraid but I can't stop you imagining what it would be like to have me torn away from you in a single instant. Sweetheart, I won't let it happen, no matter what. I'd force my own heart to beat just a few more times if it meant the difference between seeing you again or not. I promise you it'll be all right.
I promised you a lot of things, and I plan to do my best to keep them all. Sometimes things may come up that will conflict with it all, but we'll work our way through it. We've worked our way through so much already, why would we let the simple things get in the way? I may not be mr. right, or mr. perfect, but you know that, at least you love my honesty.
I wish I could give you amazing gifts, I wish I could take you places you'd only dreamed of. Maybe one day I can. Maybe one day I can share the world with you in the same way I saw it, only differently, becuase I'd see it with you. I would like that more than anything else. I talk so many miles about how my heart has no home, and its always riding a very winding road. Well, I would like to take you there one day, before any starts to settle down or you start losing your hopes of getting a chance to see the world.
Before we get to old and tied down to escape for awhile. Before more serious responsibilities keep us from seeing everything else.
I want to show you Europe, the back streets and blackberry bushes. The winding roads and towering mountains. Snow-capped castles. Floating cities. Vineyards and towns. Every stone I can imagine I want to show it all to you.
Baby, we can go places, we can do times. I want to sail away with you until forever seems so close we can reach it. I know, I'm crazy, maybe even a little clingy...but you knew that about me.
"I'm leaving your town, again...and I'm over the ground that you've been spinning. And I'm up in the air, said baby hell yea. Oh honey I can see your house from here. If the plane goes down...damn...I'll remember where the love was found. Oh if the plane goes down...damn..."
Hey hey hey, its a new year and you're still so perfectly new to me every day. Don't fret, no matter what happens, you're mine and I'm yours. Smile, tomorrow will make today a thing of the past.
I know its not yet, but I know I won't have a dime to get your a gift or anything. On top of that, you'll be going to school on the 5th too. Shame shame shame. Still, life is life and we take it as it comes to us.
There's a thousand songs that remind me of you, and a handful that remind me of us. You know what I mean and you know what I think. Its all kinds of amazing. Just like you after all.
I know watching me cope and listening to me deal with all this stress and chaos is painful and frightening for you. I don't want you to be afraid but I can't stop you imagining what it would be like to have me torn away from you in a single instant. Sweetheart, I won't let it happen, no matter what. I'd force my own heart to beat just a few more times if it meant the difference between seeing you again or not. I promise you it'll be all right.
I promised you a lot of things, and I plan to do my best to keep them all. Sometimes things may come up that will conflict with it all, but we'll work our way through it. We've worked our way through so much already, why would we let the simple things get in the way? I may not be mr. right, or mr. perfect, but you know that, at least you love my honesty.
I wish I could give you amazing gifts, I wish I could take you places you'd only dreamed of. Maybe one day I can. Maybe one day I can share the world with you in the same way I saw it, only differently, becuase I'd see it with you. I would like that more than anything else. I talk so many miles about how my heart has no home, and its always riding a very winding road. Well, I would like to take you there one day, before any starts to settle down or you start losing your hopes of getting a chance to see the world.
Before we get to old and tied down to escape for awhile. Before more serious responsibilities keep us from seeing everything else.
I want to show you Europe, the back streets and blackberry bushes. The winding roads and towering mountains. Snow-capped castles. Floating cities. Vineyards and towns. Every stone I can imagine I want to show it all to you.
Baby, we can go places, we can do times. I want to sail away with you until forever seems so close we can reach it. I know, I'm crazy, maybe even a little clingy...but you knew that about me.
"I'm leaving your town, again...and I'm over the ground that you've been spinning. And I'm up in the air, said baby hell yea. Oh honey I can see your house from here. If the plane goes down...damn...I'll remember where the love was found. Oh if the plane goes down...damn..."
Hey hey hey, its a new year and you're still so perfectly new to me every day. Don't fret, no matter what happens, you're mine and I'm yours. Smile, tomorrow will make today a thing of the past.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
An actual legitimant blog which applies to something in real life!
Holy crap, I hope Devon doesn't work tomorrow. I want to hang out with her after I go and check on this Jeff fellow who is supposed to be the manager at Wawa...
bastard is NEVER there. How unreliable?
You know, I feel really caged sometimes. I absolutely love hanging out with Devon...but it seems like whenever I get a chance to hang out with anyone...its only her and we usually get stuck alone. I know she loves to hang out with me...but she's have a lot more fun if we could all hang out with others at the same time. I just sometimes feel like I keep her stuck at home or something *shrugs*
Not that I mind, just spending time is awesome. Crazy conversations and all kinds of little lame things we share. Makes me smile just thinking about it all. Brings me to a crossroads...because personally I'm content with JUST hanging out with her. Sure, here and there I wanna go see Justen...or maybe try to hang with Mike more...though I don't know him well...still it'd be nice to expand my horizons a little.
I came to a realization the other day...perhaps a slow lame one...but still. I used to always live life thinking, "If you loved someone, and they thought they liked someone else...you would let them go out of love." No, that's a good friend. If you're in love, and you really loved someone...you wouldn't let them go, you'd try to become someone they could love as well. Right?
So the new year is here. I have my resolution, you all have yours. Hopefully, this year will be amazing. If you want my opinion, it prolly will be. Well I'm off to contemplate social suicide and dwell in my incessant boredom. Huzzah.
bastard is NEVER there. How unreliable?
You know, I feel really caged sometimes. I absolutely love hanging out with Devon...but it seems like whenever I get a chance to hang out with anyone...its only her and we usually get stuck alone. I know she loves to hang out with me...but she's have a lot more fun if we could all hang out with others at the same time. I just sometimes feel like I keep her stuck at home or something *shrugs*
Not that I mind, just spending time is awesome. Crazy conversations and all kinds of little lame things we share. Makes me smile just thinking about it all. Brings me to a crossroads...because personally I'm content with JUST hanging out with her. Sure, here and there I wanna go see Justen...or maybe try to hang with Mike more...though I don't know him well...still it'd be nice to expand my horizons a little.
I came to a realization the other day...perhaps a slow lame one...but still. I used to always live life thinking, "If you loved someone, and they thought they liked someone else...you would let them go out of love." No, that's a good friend. If you're in love, and you really loved someone...you wouldn't let them go, you'd try to become someone they could love as well. Right?
So the new year is here. I have my resolution, you all have yours. Hopefully, this year will be amazing. If you want my opinion, it prolly will be. Well I'm off to contemplate social suicide and dwell in my incessant boredom. Huzzah.
Toccata and Fugue in D Minor
What is it that calls me?
Oh midnight moon it haunts me,
The sadness it watches me with from above!
Leave me!
No, she watches me restlessly
Peering fearfully from behind the clouds.
Am I such a shameful thing to be watched as such?
Relent!
What a miserable thing that it should fear me.
But a soul lost in contemplation.
One's thoughts...
One's thoughts must be so fearful indeed!
Oh moon!
Why do you watch me through my window...
(interlude at 2:51)
(Man paces room, constantly peering back at the moon which ducks to and fro behind the ominious cloud cover moving across the sky. Pacing grows more frantic, then slows to a stop, head tilting slightly until pace quickens once more in which man appears angry now, sweeping books off surrounding bookshelves in the study and offering viscious stares to the moon after each shelf is cleaned and the books lay strewn on the floor.)
(6:50ish angered man seems slightly calmer, although carrying a strange look in his eye. Walks across room to candle. 7:50! He throws the candle into the pile of books along the bookshelf and glances back at the moon triumphantly)
(Cut to external, sunrise appears soon as the light along the horizon has grown brighter. 8:00 the final moments of night are upon us. The moon stares at the scene before it, a massive home aflame)
Oh midnight moon it haunts me,
The sadness it watches me with from above!
Leave me!
No, she watches me restlessly
Peering fearfully from behind the clouds.
Am I such a shameful thing to be watched as such?
Relent!
What a miserable thing that it should fear me.
But a soul lost in contemplation.
One's thoughts...
One's thoughts must be so fearful indeed!
Oh moon!
Why do you watch me through my window...
(interlude at 2:51)
(Man paces room, constantly peering back at the moon which ducks to and fro behind the ominious cloud cover moving across the sky. Pacing grows more frantic, then slows to a stop, head tilting slightly until pace quickens once more in which man appears angry now, sweeping books off surrounding bookshelves in the study and offering viscious stares to the moon after each shelf is cleaned and the books lay strewn on the floor.)
(6:50ish angered man seems slightly calmer, although carrying a strange look in his eye. Walks across room to candle. 7:50! He throws the candle into the pile of books along the bookshelf and glances back at the moon triumphantly)
(Cut to external, sunrise appears soon as the light along the horizon has grown brighter. 8:00 the final moments of night are upon us. The moon stares at the scene before it, a massive home aflame)
Little Robin Red-Breast
Pretty little bird, why do you shy from me?
Do you fear for your safety, fear for your wings?
My dear bird just come to my finger and I'll take you home.
I have a pretty little cage with wire walls to hold you tight.
Wouldn't you like to sing for me?
Pretty little bird, why do you hide from me?
What makes you want to take to flight whenever I'm around?
My dear bird just come to my finger and I'll take you home.
I have a playful cat who'd love to spend some time with you.
Wouldn't you like to sing for me?
My little robin red-breast, painted with passion,
Why do you try to leave me?
My dear friend, you know its no use to run away, I'll get what I want.
I have a bad temper so you will do what I say.
Now sing my friend, sing for me.
Do you fear for your safety, fear for your wings?
My dear bird just come to my finger and I'll take you home.
I have a pretty little cage with wire walls to hold you tight.
Wouldn't you like to sing for me?
Pretty little bird, why do you hide from me?
What makes you want to take to flight whenever I'm around?
My dear bird just come to my finger and I'll take you home.
I have a playful cat who'd love to spend some time with you.
Wouldn't you like to sing for me?
My little robin red-breast, painted with passion,
Why do you try to leave me?
My dear friend, you know its no use to run away, I'll get what I want.
I have a bad temper so you will do what I say.
Now sing my friend, sing for me.
Waking
An interruption between two dreams
A reminder that all there is to greet me
Cold sheets pulled tightly around me
Searching for warmth
Disappointment
Consistently consistent in
The longing for something more to be there
Something warmer
More loving
Dreaming
or is it all real what I feel in this quasi-concious place
Unreal in all ways imagined
Yet all to normal for us both
Can you tell me if its true
Warmth
Found clinging tightly against me
Barely clothed
Yet fully dressed
Beneath warm quilts I dream it all again
An interruption between two dreams
A reminder that all there is to greet me
Cold sheets pulled tightly around me
Searching for warmth
Disappointment
Consistently consistent in
The longing for something more to be there
Something warmer
More loving
Dreaming
or is it all real what I feel in this quasi-concious place
Unreal in all ways imagined
Yet all to normal for us both
Can you tell me if its true
Warmth
Found clinging tightly against me
Barely clothed
Yet fully dressed
Beneath warm quilts I dream it all again
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