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About Me

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  1. I have gone through this before. Im on my 4th breakup with my ex. But the worst feeling in the world is having feelings for someone who no longer wants to be with you, hang out with you, see you or call you. It happened suddenly, I was not expecting it. I feel lots of pain, and though I wont do anything stupid the impotence is so much that I just wish I was dead in order not to feel this. Help me cope please. I miss him and want to move to his city and do anything posible to make it work again, but I know he has blocked me out and that there is absoultely nothing I can do to change it. I think of him every day, all the time. Pleople are getting sick of me, and there is nothing I can do to change his mind and make him love me. Help me please
  2. Over time I have discovered that I love writing .. poetry thoughts..love life death birth...many topics. Where is a good place to write anonymously ? I have been told blogs are the best way to write and develop that more. Advice thoughts recommendations?
  3. When I told you, "I choose you over anything in this world" I was dead serious I need no reason to make that choice It's no love, it's no ideas It's no admiration It's just fate When the world stood against you I would stand on your side We would fight a thousand wars Challenge the gods and rule their heaven Even when you rush into a losing battle I would die before your knees touch the ground I thought it would last forever I thought we would keep sailing under your banner Like pirates on the shoreless sea Riding the tides of time without a care But the same fate that brought me to you Stole me away Dear Lord, isn't it irony? Our life is RPG without saving point Sometimes we win, sometimes we screw up We can learn, we can change But there are stuff that we can't undo There are scars that healing potion can't mend Our story is done here And like how it started There's no reason why it ends It's no love, it's ideas It's no differences or betrayal It's just fate
  4. By Saidwhattha (N.G.) Transport of steel and flight The road of great escape When waking from the crash Lost traction made in the night Still wishing an arrow of direction Fleet footed the accident had won When freed from the crash The glass embeds it's mark Speed was the words spoken A map keyed in questions When walking from the crash No ones in the backseat waiting Hairpins taken on angered motive The Navigator lost the stars When crying from the crash Found bleeding on the shoulder Shotgun shock and withdraw Wrecked and silent admission When she saw him in the crash Guilt gut checked wheeling her away Tire-spun realized finality The aftermath and carnage of love's physics Rear-viewed memories of the crash The road side forever scarred All was left on that road Oil stained grave marker Living the crash Regretting her charge titled Pilot Her sleep hides in the curves Her Navigator, her love forever lost The crash is wrecking her insides It's force to much Everything is crashed Crashing in keeping When waking from Crashed
  5. TUG O' WAR And so the reaper and I, we're in a showdown. Each of us standing on one side of my mother, And for every pull and tug his Deathness gives her I am there to pull her back and tell him NO! NOT TODAY. Yes, she will need to move on and I understand that. But whatever force of nature carried her through life Unscathed through so many things that would kill the rest of us Is still there living within me, burning like a flame I can't put out. I'm tired, she's tired, and then we see the look on Death's face, And we burst out laughing and vow to give the old bag of bones a run for his money. It's a stupid tug of war, but it's our tug of war, and we've never been women who behaved.
  6. Hey guys! I have recently gone through a heart-breakingly sudden break-up and have decided to divert my attention to something I can control - myself and my goals. I am writing a novel/working on a project that I has been in production for nearly a year and a half now. I had since paused my working on it due to stress with my relationship/work, but have recently found the motivation to start again! If you're a fan of Stephen King/Tim Burton then my story will be right up your alley (think Sleepy Hollow)! Please give me your honest feedback! Thanks, guys! =) Prologue The echoing ring of silence came to an end, suddenly, as the horses began clacking their hooves with heightened determination. The whispering darkness became increasingly overwhelming as the moonlight, while ever persistent, struggled to penetrate the impossibly thick fog. The animals of the forest; the bats and doves, squirrels and muskrats, deer and moose, scurried away in fear as the men yelled to one another for guidance. Paths became bends, forks became paths, and bends became dead ends. The unusual, eerie atmosphere began eating away at the men’s confidence like termites feeding on a hollowed log. “Shouldn’t we hear them? Shouldn’t they hear us?” whispered one of the men, a once brave man now turned coward. As they attempted to navigate through the haunting, spiraling maze of trees and brush, a slight beacon of hope could be heard, faintly, through the sound of the stream’s rushing current. North; they were heading north. A small opening through the trees allowed the men to pass through, in pairs of two, into the curved streambed. There was a brief moment where the moonlight finally burst through, revealing the blackened substance that had polluted the river. The leader of the battalion, a tall, portly man named William, was the first to notice the bodies; “Who could do such a thing? We’ll have the head of the bastard who did this! Don’t let the horses drink! We’ll have to give them some of our own!” he exclaimed. The plagued water splashing against the jagged, aged rocks, nonetheless, created a beautifully calming melody as the horses leaped from stone to stone, trying to retain their rapidly fleeing stamina. The river, serving as a faithful guide, continued to lead the men northward, the reflection of the night sky dancing on its surface, illuminating what was once dark in the forest. The trees held a frightened appearance as if they, too, were trying to flee from the escalating madness that was taking place in the Western Woods. “There! Do you see them? Do you see them over there?!” William rhetorically questioned. The watchmen began to grow sickeningly aware of their situation as more and more yellowed glares revealed themselves through the blackened nothing that awaited them on the horizon. Their thumping hearts could be heard as the eyes, each holding a stare of hopelessness, grew larger and larger as the horses fearlessly stormed on. A brief perforation in the woods divided the battalion into two groups as they began scaling muddy slope after muddy slope, the mares desperately struggling to keep their footing as if their legs were wobbling stilts. Time seemed to crawl as the two squadrons finally reached the top of the incline; rest at last. Though the marsh proved to be a difficult climb, few men fell, and those who did were able to remount with esteemed pace, as if the ground was built upon springs. The brief pause in their campaign allowed the horses to quench their thirsts, a reward that was long over-due. The men, too, were rewarded, with a brief sense of relaxation, as they admired what used to be a beautiful landscape. It was not an appropriate time to reflect on their surroundings, however, as time was of the essence. They had to save as many of them as possible. The wind, once violently unpredictable, stood expectedly still, its roar shrinking to nothing more than a puppy’s growl, as they raced into the northern farmlands. The farms were vacant, their once green and golden crops being reduced to nothing more than grayed, ruined waste. The stench of death grew stronger as swarms upon swarms of flies began hovering above the rotten vegetation, feeding on their last ounces of existence as if to cruelly parallel what was occurring to the people of the forest. The only sign of life stood ragged through the fog in the form of a withered log-cabin. A dull glow swayed softly in the air, a lamp, in front of the structure, although its flame was stumbling for stability in the cool breeze. Its dancing, faded, light revealed a series of locks which secured the small cabin from intruders, ironic given there was no one left who would intrude. A quick shake was all it took to pry the door open as a cloud of old dust filled the doorway. Years of carelessness and neglect could vaguely be seen on the walls, through the thick dust, as the first few men made their first steps inside. However, before they could fully enter, a sudden cry of terror from the southeast halted their push forward. The signal came from the youngest of the group, a new recruit named Thomas, who had the misfortune of riding the battalion’s plumpest and slowest steed. His echoing cry was as true as the steel on his spurs when his eyes met one of theirs through the naked autumn trees; “NO! Why on earth is this happening?! What is wrong with her?!” he continued to cry. His fear stemmed not from his inexperience, but from an utter sense of disbelief as the thin, gloomy figure inched closer to him. The young girl, standing no taller than three feet, innocently smiled at him as her dull blonde hair fell over her white, colorless face. Her eyes had a lovely shape, though what color remained had been overwhelmed by a pale, gray yellowing hew, reminiscent of a crescent moon hiding behind storm clouds. Thomas could begin to feel the hairs on his spine standing on end as he struggled to make the right choice. His first instinct was to pick the girl up in his arms and rush her safely home back to her mother, while his second instinct was to reach for his rifle. “What is wrong with her? What in God’s name is happening?!” Thomas thought, his mind overwhelmed with emotion. A sudden ruffling of leaves was all it took to influence his decision. In a flash of instinct and uncertainty, the young girl was knocked into the air and, falling ever so delicately like a feather from the sky, into the cold, blackened river. Blood and adrenaline began to fill Thomas’ heart as he began realizing what he had done. His cry of regret filled the air, “Oh, no! What have I done?! Someone, please help! She is going to die!” The young recruit was faced with yet another fateful choice; to stand and do nothing, or plunge into the plagued water to save the child’s slowly fading life. Before he could decide the fate of the girl, a seasoned patrol named Edward came rushing to his aid, carrying a musket the size of an ore and riding on a glowing white stallion. His horse, named Marshmallow, danced through the thicket in a hypnotizing display of perfected acrobatics, its brilliantly white color emitting more light than even the stars themselves. A sense of urgency filled Edward as Marshmallow leaped logs, ducked under low-hanging branches, and tore through shrubs and bushes that tried to swallow the courageous duo. ---------- I have about twenty pages thus far, but I haven't edited through the rest quite yet!
  7. I wake up at the dawn, searching for the warmth of your hips over my body. I want to kiss every bit of your skin, loosing my self with you in an endless passion ... I want to touch inch by inch your chest ,getting high on your breath, wrapped up in you,.living at the shadow of your breasts and feell the beat of your heart against mine. I want you to feell all of me trembling and giving me the luxury of burning in the fire of your body and stopping the time in our existence. I want to draw your smile in my mind,leaving my prints of this madness in your desires and drink every drop of it. I m thirsty for you,of closing my eyes and traveling to the heighest points of the horizon without fear of falling... I want you my love, without fear of an end without fear of the death...
  8. I always had disturbing dreams About your now faded smile Your blue eyes now turned to grey You stood there unmoving Unchanging with the seasons Your skin cold to the touch Somewhere between city escape and the boulevard of broken dreams You died inside I used to almost cave into my sorrow I tried to save you from drowning in your mind Your broken will to stay strong, too survive The darkness succumbed to all your needs I moved forward Taking with me a happier moment in time When you used to dance amongst the Suns rays Not let the rain weigh you down I take that still frame bliss with grace I now move on For you are just an old shadow on my wall Beneath the pale moonlight There was no saving you Only saving myself I broke free You no longer haunt me Written By: Lisa Ducharme
  9. Corn is reaped, seed is gathered Beautiful heads, all are severed No longer swaying, catching the light Ground is bare, all is quiet Kernels are sorted, now empty shells Hearts exposed, tender, fragile Callously crushed by uncaring weight Turned to mush, a pulpy waste Distilled, refined and pleasant to taste A terrible plight or beautiful fate? It alwasy saddens me when corn fields are harvested and the beautiful golden fields are replaced by ploughed earth. However, at least something is created in the process. The anlaogy could be applied to a broken heart, or even death now that i think of it.
  10. My eyes soaked red, my heart bruised blue, These words can't sum the pain left by you. Dropped by the world, that which was you, disabled it left me, my time was due. With nothing to turn to, nothing to lose, I welcomed the Devil, all Hell broke loose. In my recluse, I found but one friend, substance abuse, I was nearing my end. I threw myself into Pandora's box, who would've known that this place had locks. The days felt like years, but all in my head, the world didn't care, time goes on instead. Trapped in this box, the prison of my mind, my vision of the world is that of the blind. Monsters and demons eating away at my soul, At this point, there's no way that I may ever feel whole. If my life were a train, this must be the end, the tracks had two paths, I chose the dead end. Years gone by, I was still stuck in the past, but now I'm breaking through that nightmarish vast. I can finally see the sky that is blue, the dark clouds are fading, and so did my desire for you. Decided to write this poem on a whim. I can't even remember the last time I ever wrote or read a poem. I'm just trying new avenues to express myself and gauge my abilities to poetry. I really don't know what possessed me to even write this, I really don't know. Anyhow, thought I'd share. I'll admit it's not a great poem, I think it's too predictable and simplistic. Now I'm really starting to wonder why did I even write this. Guess I must be pretty out of it.
  11. Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherized upon a table; Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, The muttering retreats Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: Streets that follow like a tedious argument Of insidious intent To lead you to an overwhelming question. . . 10 Oh, do not ask, "What is it?" Let us go and make our visit. In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo. The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains, Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys, Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, 20 And seeing that it was a soft October night Curled once about the house, and fell asleep. And indeed there will be time For the yellow smoke that slides along the street, Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; There will be time to murder and create, And time for all the works and days of hands That lift and drop a question on your plate; 30 Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions And for a hundred visions and revisions Before the taking of a toast and tea. In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo. And indeed there will be time To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?" Time to turn back and descend the stair, With a bald spot in the middle of my hair— 40 [They will say: "How his hair is growing thin!"] My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin, My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin— [They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!"] Do I dare Disturb the universe? In a minute there is time For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse. For I have known them all already, known them all; Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, 50 I have measured out my life with coffee spoons; I know the voices dying with a dying fall Beneath the music from a farther room. So how should I presume? And I have known the eyes already, known them all— The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase, And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin, When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall, Then how should I begin To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? 60 And how should I presume? And I have known the arms already, known them all— Arms that are braceleted and white and bare [but in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!] Is it perfume from a dress That makes me so digress? Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl. And should I then presume? And how should I begin? . . . . . Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets 70 And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? . . . I should have been a pair of ragged claws Scuttling accross the floors of silent seas. . . . . . And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! Smoothed by long fingers, Asleep . . . tired . . . or it malingers, Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me. Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? 80 But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter, I am no prophet–and here's no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid. And would it have been worth it, after all, After the cups, the marmalade, the tea, Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me, Would it have been worth while, 90 To have bitten off the matter with a smile, To have squeezed the universe into a ball To roll it toward some overwhelming question, To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead, Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all" If one, settling a pillow by her head, Should say, "That is not what I meant at all. That is not it, at all." And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, 100 After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor— And this, and so much more?— It is impossible to say just what I mean! But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: Would it have been worth while If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl, And turning toward the window, should say: "That is not it at all, That is not what I meant, at all." 110 . . . . . No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; Am an attendant lord, one that will do To swell a progress, start a scene or two Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool, Deferential, glad to be of use, Politic, cautious, and meticulous; Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse; At times, indeed, almost ridiculous— Almost, at times, the Fool. I grow old . . . I grow old . . . 120 I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think they will sing to me. I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back When the wind blows the water white and black. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown 130 Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
  12. Something in my throat. I feel like choking, but choking is the easy way out. I yell, scream, and cry all within the confines of my head. Twitching limbs and churning insides, No one knows what I really hide. I put on a smile and hear phrases like "You are perfect." Please just let me go and punch me in the dead spot again. Life is only work and death is the vacation. We go to work each day, Edging closer to closing time. I SLEEP WHEN I'M DEAD. Lined up like sheep chasing an imaginary forever. We wade through crap and we like it. I could go on but... If I could save one person in life, Well that's not really enough is that? At least not on a grand scale. We close our eyes to travesty, And pretend its commercial time. We grab a beer and tell ourselves it's okay, But it's not. God hates his world for we become. We have become flies that hover over a stinking corpse called Earth. I could elaborate but...
  13. If my soul could fly, it would kick off the ground with one pudgy foot rising through the air parting like water, pure happiness like lightning. Soaring, swooping, dancing with kites, twisting and diving, witnessing the ground bound with compassion; they can't know this delight. I hope this is what death brings.
  14. Grateful to relief To have always felt what seemed One sided love Leaves the heart Broken, battered, bruised, And as caged as a dove. To have always felt the piercing spikes Of polluting jealousy Leaves the mind Callow, credulous, chancy, And as deficient as truancy. To have always felt the cold sting Of serrated metal Leaves the skin Scarred, spoiled, splintered, And as wizened as a nettle. To have always felt the impudent arms Of ceaseless death Leaves the soul Hollow, heedless, hacked, And as endangered as a breath. To have never felt what seemed as One sided love with you Leaves the heart Rounded, restful, resilient, And as peaceful as a dove. To have never felt the piercing spikes * Of polluting jealousy * Leaves the mind * Tranquil, transpicuous, tameless, And as boisterous as truancy. To have never felt the cold sting Of serrated metal with you Leaves the skin Graceful, guiltless, gorgeous, And as undiscovered as a nettle. To have never felt the impudent arms Of ceaseless death with you Leaves the soul * Enchanting, engaging, effulgent, And as light as a breath.
  15. A Pathway Remembered I lay my head in the water and simply breathe Blue skies, sing lullabies and I begin to dream I remember plans pondered, and pure. I remember love so honest and sure, but like such things so beautiful and free; sometimes such things aren't ever meant to be. and blue becomes a gray, and the light becomes a haze, and we run out of things to say, and clear thoughts become a maze, and everything changes The smiles become sighs. The laughs become cries. The distance simply grows until there's nothing to revive, and lord knows the pathway blurs until we cease to survive. Please forgive me. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Pray Dear Whoever exists so high in the heavens. Please change my life, help me see the errors I make Help break the angry so deep in my veins Help me understand why it is that I pray Dear Whoever exists so high in the stars Who watches, without reacting, who watches afar Who makes me so angry, who leaves me to plea Who watches me frustrated, dead on my knees. I claw and I creep, and I seek and I pray I wish and I thank, and I try to obey I've reaped what I've sown and for that I must pay, Look Lord, I'm sorry for breaking the promise I made, and I'm sorry I've fallen so far from your grace, and I'm sorry that I've resorted to crawling to you. Lord, I'm sorry I didn't simply have more faith in you. Why am I here, deep down on my knees Why have I come back to piety? Nothing seems to put me at ease Nothing seems to make me feel peace Maybe it'll take eternity to see Why all these things are happening to me or why it is that I can't keep happy But until then I guess I'll just sleep. Amen.
  16. I Have Felt I have spoken. To send forth words of joy set my voice aflame, To speak out alone corrupts my tongue. I tell you, my eloquence is lost. I have written. To scribe notes of joy in correspondence lent to my wrist a certain grace. To type an obituary alone brings but the hollow clunk of the keys, * I tell you my pen is worn down. I have danced. To tread the floor in tandem was the dance of gods, to walk the world alone is the fate of wretches. I tell you my feet are numb with tired. I have cried. A hundred nights alone, but time it seems hardens the soul to mercy. I tell you that part of me is dead. I have bled. My blood once emblazoned with pride, drips languid, from the chasm of the knife. I tell you, the blood is still and cold. You have loved. your words rung loud in many ears, but now * they fall upon mine as if I am deaf. You tell me, but I cannot hear. I have listened, for a hundred days, no sound. I may be worth your pleading, I tell you, you are not worth my cheer. * Credit to Sue De’Nim.
  17. This was something I wrote for a guy named Abraham. He ended up killing himself during a live broadcast on justin tv. Rather then trying to coach him out of it people encouraged him to take his life, he was 19 years old. When I found out about this I was pretty mad because im a frequent user on justin tv. I wished I could have been online that night and tried to talk him out of it. Here it is, maybe il turn it into a song or something later on. you might hate yourself and everyone around you, but this can't be the end of it all your still young still have a life ahead of you, so don't let people talk you down man this is sad I wish I could have been there to tell you, that life goes on its messed up, that the whole world would drag you down, and set you up to fall he took his life for all of you, are you happy now? you should be ashamed of yourselves, its a sick world we live in if only we could go back in time, would you take it back? nobody seemed to care, in this * * * * ed up world rest in peace, a death on your conscience, he was only 19 how could you all live with yourselves, for what youve done? embracing death instead of lending a helping hand, so * * * * ing heartless his family and friends will love and miss him forever, but theres no turning back now he took his life for all of you, are you happy now? you should be ashamed of yourselves, its a sick world we live in if only we could go back in time, would you take it back? nobody seemed to care, in this * * * * ed up world so what? no big deal you all thought it was funny, and showed no remorse feeding off the misery of a kid, what if it was your brother? maybe then youd feel his pain and shed a tear, for another life lost its too late and im sorry abraham, but i cant help you now
  18. When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, They found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem. And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging accross the Internet. Cranky Old Man What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see? What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me? A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise, Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . . .. with faraway eyes? Who dribbles his food .. . ... . . and makes no reply. When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!' Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do. And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe? Who, resisting or not . . . ... lets you do as you will, With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill? Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see? Then open your eyes, nurse .you're not looking at me. I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still, As I do at your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will. I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother, Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . who love one another A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll meet. A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap. Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep. At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own. Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home. A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast, Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last. At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone, But my woman is beside me . . to see I don't mourn. At Fifty, once more, .. ...Babies play 'round my knee, Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me. Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead. I look at the future ... . . . . I shudder with dread. For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own. And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known. I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel. It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool. The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart. There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart. But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells, And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells I remember the joys . . . . .. . I remember the pain. And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . life over again. I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast. And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last. So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see. Not a cranky old man . Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. .... . ME!! Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. We will all, one day, be there, too!
  19. by Poet Stevie Smith Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he's dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold always (Still the dead one lay moaning) I was much too far out all my life And not waving but drowning.
  20. Havent been shooting much (if at all) lately, and am dying to get back into it. Anyways, managed to capture this a few weeks ago. Enjoy! image removed
  21. My boyfriend's mother died very suddenly and unexpectedly 5 months ago, leaving him an orphan at age 36. His mother had raised him by herself and his father had remarried but died just a few years ago. His stepmother and half-siblings stopped talking to him after his father died, so it was as if he suddenly had no family left at all. When his mother died, I was the first and only person he turned to, and I held him all night and listened to him talk. He had to fly to another state to take care of arrangements and I offered to go with him. He tried to book a flight for me but nothing was available, so he asked me to come in the future to help him pack up his mother's house and be at his side at the memorial service instead. I tried to be as supportive as possible over the phone while he was away. We were in frequent touch and he told me everything about what he was feeling and going through. But when he came home 10 days later, he was very distant and strange. He seemed confused and said he didn't know what he wanted. He abruptly said he needed to take a break from our relationship and asked me to leave his apartment. He said I had been the most wonderful and sweetest girlfriend and that he loved me but that he just couldn't be in a relationship with anyone during this time. But he also kept saying that he didn't want to make a rash decision and to give it some time. I knew I had to set my feelings aside and allow him whatever he needed, even though I was devastated. I tried to give him space but also still be there for him, so I'd occasionally (every couple of weeks or so) send a short and kind email or text message. I did speak to him by phone for about an hour a few weeks later and he told me that he felt like a basket case and couldn't sleep. I tried to go help him with his mother's house but he turned me back home after our flight landed. Finally, 2 months later, he sent me a very terse and cold email that simply said there was not a possibility of us getting back together and that he felt there needed to be considerable time and distance before we ever talked again. No explanation or any words of kindness whatsoever. He sounded so different from the person I once knew. I'm having trouble accepting that this could really be the end. I keep wondering if there was anything I could've done to prevent or save this - whether I wasn't there for him enough in the beginning, if I gave him too much space or not enough, if it was a terrible mistake to get on that flight to try to help him, etc. Everyone tells me that doing that was an amazing selfless act of love on my part and wasn't inappropriate, but it seems like he was upset and disturbed by my gesture, perhaps due to his mental state while grieving. I only had the best of intentions and it doesn't seem like it should be a reason to push someone you care about entirely away and just completely refuse to talk. It was as if I had wronged him deeply but I don't know what I did that was wrong. Over the months I've read so much about grief and tried to understand what he is going through, but I still can't understand how his feelings could have changed so drastically when we had a great relationship before and he always seemed so deeply in love and sure of our relationship. I know he had to deal with a harrowing and traumatic experience, but why would he turn away from my support and cut me out of his life without explanation when he can still treat everyone else in his life as normal? How can he not miss the life that we had together? We were in a serious relationship and the love we felt for each other should mean something and not just evaporate into thin air. Can anyone help me with insight as to why he might have done this and whether it's likely he'll ever come around with time?
  22. All I wish is to not bother. To sleep and never wake. Oh how I despise existence. How I envy those blissfully ignorant are so easily cowed by hollow faith. I loathe this cage of flesh, this addled mind, this empty vessel. How I scorn my own humanity. To be driven by these base desires the worst of witch the quest for love. I would reach into my own chest to tear out my blighted heart if it would release me from this pain. Death whispers to me softly but it's promises ring hollow in my thoughts. What I fear most is to begin again.
  23. I've been told the world's at my fingertips I feel the grass gently prodding my bare back I've been told I could do anything, from many lips The night-time sky, full of twinkling stars, no luster lacked I've been told that I could make lots of money someday A calm breeze blows over me, a calm overtakes The pressure always building, a future, love, the what if's, the what may's The calm, like outside of a storm The pressure that drives a man to an early grave The outside, surrounded by a force much too large for one to know the form This search for purpose that allows the soul to crave Pushes the stars from the skies, and the dreams from your mind The search that pushes the love from your eyes and the spark in your soul Until nothing is left but the storm
  24. Im so torn...if only I had been more patient...more understanding... " I'm moving on..I'm happy" that is haunting me....I want to say I don't want you to move on...I'm getting better I know I've messed up...I know I did...i want to fix it..I want you back.. I am sorrow I can't stop crying.....tonight is horrible..there is no sleep..only thought...please god...please..anyone...anything....what I will give for another chance...what I would do for a moment..just a moment of a release from these thoughts....I beg you life for a reprievment.... I take it all back...please! Please dont be with him! Sob ....i lay here dying inside...you care not for who i am...you see a demon you had to escape... I see nothing but tears.. I miss you... Im sorry...I just want you back...ill give it all up for one more moment... I am heartbreak Please I implore a miracle. This is my darkest hour! I dare say nothing to you in fear of the paralyzing cruelty your now capable of. I'm reaching for you... dying..will you not extend just a finger? I now weap...I throw up... In panic of purgatory...I do not end it...i invite both black and white to take me...by grace of a loving hand. Or by the cold icy grasp of death.... I lay here..I won't close my eyes, I cannot afford to miss you.... Please take me.....please end me... I am desperate i care nothong for luxuries..for finances or power.... The warm feel of another woman shall be a cold souless being against your compare.. I care nothing for health. Nor food Nor wine I care for you.... I am losing I am dying I am evil...i would gain your trust and love again....and once i show you the true meaning of love..of life..and the rapture of it all.... I will rip it from you! Leaving you as a pumpkin a week past eve... Hollow...candle that can barely muster a flick...a twitch... Rotting away sinking to a side....the once lit face, barley forms an image....only a terror that is not long for another day..maybe 2 ??? I am evil...I am revenge. I hate you! Your are a disease in my blood.... I am stone...I am rock I will not bleed for you..I will not wallow for you I am better than you. You are benieth me you peasant! You shall find the gallows...and you shall burn. You I shall rule your torment in hell! I AM DARKNESS!!!!! I admit defeat...to weak to breathe To dead to see I hear the wind I cry again...I feel warm I feel my heart dropping I feel my demise I take a deep breath And slowly i rise I wipe my tears. I cast aside my fears I tell myself its ok I'm convinced to soldier another day I find the hope. As hard as it may be I come to my senses..i finally can see. I am acceptance Theres a better future I am hopeful My heart pumps again My chest filled with breath My body moves I'm so tired...so very tired.. It's over now..I will live on And i will find a new life... And fill it with love and peace. And someone new I am redemption.
  25. "Stupid". By me. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- I feel so impatient when you're around, in body or of mind. A loss of words strikes my lips heavily, and it leaves me blind. What is it about you that weakens me so? That paradoxical mind frame I've come to know... I don't hate you but I'm not sure I like you, back and forth like an ocean, I just can't find an even flow. For years and years we fight and befriend, slowly, but surely, I thought I'd found a trend. Withdrawn unto my shell to find a place to mend, After all: you wound me, intrigue me but I feel I must defend. Often you seem so arrogant, but I wonder if it were a front, to hide a weakened self in you, Do excuse me if I seem too blunt. I only mean to sympathize, my words not meant to chastise, but often mistaken I wish you'd realize, I'm not what the world sees. Alas it's something I'll take with me to the grave, my ashes you'd cast upon a crimson breeze. You make me feel so worthless, stupid and alone. The face you stare upon me with is solid like a stone. A pedestal your on, I can't reach you upon that mighty throne. I feel so little in your presence, insignificant to the very last, you and I both know it's everything to do with what happened in the past. I hate this meager existence, and I cry for something more, but by now I fear my plight to you is just too much a bore. I'll just sit here feeling stupid, pondering the stars, what my place upon them is, and will I ever get far? By now my words may have upset you, as they often do, I guess that's just my way of reacting, because I'm confused by everything you do. I never was good at understanding, such a thing I should be able too, So I'll walk away in silence, pretend to myself I know what I'm saying though I know this not to be true. Devastating every time, I'm sorry but I just can't seem to hate you. I Guess. That just makes me. Stupid.
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