|up all night, got demons to fight.
||[Jul. 27th, 2014|07:08 pm]
Today is one of those days I open this quiet space of mine to pen down my thoughts. Its just the way I like it still - quiet, free of judgment. I can pour my innermost thoughts onto this platform and not have a soul dissect or remark on what I have to say. I can steer away from the boisterous me that I always put on show but somehow can never reconcile with in private. |
It comforts me.
I wish to say I have it all thought out, that I have some semblance of a life I would have planned if I weren't just meandering through it. Im scared, to be honest. I don't really know where to go from here. These years, which should be marked by a budding career and the long, drawn-out process of growing up and having a hold on your independence, of wrestling with the idea that you are your own person now... it has a chokehold over me. It's the space between awake and dreaming that I cannot fathom. How do you have ideals when you have bills to pay, reality to grapple with and ships to keep afloat?
I wish to be the giddy schoolgirl I once was, my arms perpetually raised so my dad could pick me up and have me perched atop his shoulders. I can see the world better, I thought then. And now, now its a blur of pedestrians vying for personal space in packed cans.
I can't see anything.
I wish to be the friend that I once was. You'd wait for me to finish work so we could go to loof, our blanket fort masquerading as a bar, where we spoke of our dreams and the people we want to grow up into, which seemed lightyears away then. Do you remember? I remember meeting you. You were all giggles and optimism. I was a wide-eyed adolescent losing my footing on awkward, coming-of years and you were a respite. Suddenly I wasn't so scared anymore. If everyone I meet could be you, I would have nothing to fear.
I want to know what happened.
I'd have you know that I have nothing thought out. I'm swimming with the tide, and have been all this while. I'd have you know that I still struggle with all the responsibilities thrown at me, strewn all over the safehouse I've built in the deep abyss of my heart, a place I go to when this is all too much, and im picking up the haphazard pieces of a world so foreign I still wallow in my carefree teenagehood and think to myself "I'm not a part of that madness."
But I am.
I wish to be you again. You who loved fearlessly and is loved in return. You believed in songs that sing of happy endings. You never had a doubt in human nature - every one has good intentions, you told me. Every one? Yes, you would say with conviction. People hurt you, but you never wavered. You saw the magic in everything - in rain, in the sun and the moon, in your cup of coffee, in the sea, in other people. You were present when I spoke of infinity.
Do you still live here?
Sometimes I feel like I've been thrust into this horrible play in which I want no part of...
...but the days I want to run into are in years I cannot relive anymore.
And it hurts me to say that.
|Ice in every vein
||[Jul. 24th, 2011|02:14 pm]
The truest love that ever heart|
Felt at its kindled core
Did through each vein, in quickened start,
The tide of being pour.
Her coming was my hope each day,
Her parting was my pain;
The chance that did her steps delay
Was ice in every vein.
I dreamed it would be nameless bliss,
As I loved, loved to be;
And to this object did I press
As blind as eagerly.
But wide as pathless was the space
That lay, our lives, between,
And dangerous as the foamy race
Of ocean-surges green.
And haunted as a robber path
Through wilderness or wood;
For Might and Right, and Woe and Wrath,
Between our spirits stood.
I dangers dared; I hind’rance scorned;
I omens did defy:
Whatever menaced, harassed, warned,
I passed impetuous by.
On sped my rainbow, fast as light;
I flew as in a dream;
For glorious rose upon my sight
That child of Shower and Gleam.
Still bright on clouds of suffering dim
Shines that soft, solemn joy;
Nor care I now, how dense and grim
Disasters gather nigh.
I care not in this moment sweet,
Though all I have rushed o’er
Should come on pinion, strong and fleet,
Proclaiming vengeance sore:
Though haughty Hate should strike me down,
Right, bar approach to me,
And grinding Might, with furious frown,
Swear endless enmity.
My love has placed her little hand
With noble faith in mine,
And vowed that wedlock’s sacred band
Our nature shall entwine.
My love has sworn, with sealing kiss,
With me to live—to die;
I have at last my nameless bliss.
As I love—loved am I!
||[Jun. 8th, 2011|03:19 pm]
It was many and many a year ago,|
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Edgar Allan Poe
||[Mar. 28th, 2011|05:03 pm]
"ISN’T IT SAD, GROWING UP? YOU START OFF LIKE MY CHARLIE. YOU START OFF THINKING YOU CAN KILL ALL THE BADDIES AND SAVE THE WORLD. THEN YOU GET A LITTLE BIT OLDER, MAYBE LITTLE BEE’S AGE, AND YOU REALIZE THAT SOME OF THE WORLD’S BADNESS IS INSIDE YOU, THAT MAYBE YOU’RE A PART OF IT. AND THEN YOU GET A LITTLE BIT OLDER STILL, AND A BIT MORE COMFORTABLE, AND YOU START WONDERING WHETHER THAT BADNESS YOU’VE SEEN IN YOURSELF IS REALLY ALL THAT BAD AT ALL." little bee by chris cleave|
|and everyday is judgement day
||[Feb. 18th, 2011|10:17 pm]
its easy to keep your mouth shut when u realise that as people grow up, their hearts do too.|
|dare i say it
||[Oct. 17th, 2010|08:38 pm]
is this how... people grow up? through lies, fallacies and hurt? having to fall down and slowly piece yourself together again? then why is it that some people are blessed with a stronger heart? one that can takes countless beatings, torment, hard tugs before it ends up with nary a scratch. or is it that they just don't voice their pain? if you don't voice your pain, does it go away faster? does it make it easier to stomach? i don't understand all of this. why is it that we have to get our hearts torn up, before we learn, learn.. never to take anything for granted?|
|Star to every wandering bark
||[Oct. 7th, 2010|07:50 pm]
Let me not to the marriage of true minds|
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
||[Aug. 17th, 2010|07:00 pm]
I'm trying to figure out where to begin.
I am 67 and have a grand daughter that likes this site. She doesn't believe in love though.
Well, I have been married to my wife since we were eighteen, but really time doesn't matter because what we have is eternal and I discover more things that are beautiful about her everyday.
I like the way her wrists are shaped, her hair is almost nearly askew in her bun, and how she breaths. I just want to feel her heartbeat and laugh at the ridiculous meals she prepares.
We're not perfect. Hell, no relationship is perfect. But, we're a bunch of haphazard pieces that make something so amazing. I would want to be with her everyday, regardless.
Just believe in initiation. Believe in yourself. Believe in the creases that form around the person you love's mouth as they smile.
And thanks, Laurie, for teaching me how to love. You're my forever crush.
-Ray, a grandfather that knows love exists.
www.letterstocrushes.com (i'm hooked)
|The Things I Remember About You Are Starting To Feel Like A Dream
||[Aug. 17th, 2010|03:37 am]
so... i've been back for two weeks now. these two weeks have been kind to me. i love my friends, i really do. these are the people that will keep me sane, sober and contented. these are the people that will bring me back to earth, and make me stay.|
|when in roma
||[Jun. 22nd, 2010|04:02 am]
currently in rome, i'm so touched by the sheer generosity of the people here, i've met the kindest people in the world. After discovering that all the supermarkets in the area we're staying in has closed for the day, dashed into a biscuits shop absolutely famished and looking for pizza or pasta or anything remotely edible, instead found the nicest shopkeepers and customers ever. They sold us their own unopened box of pasta and tomato puree at cost price, which is like 2euros, gave us a huge slab of their own mozzarella cheese for free, gave us pizza for free and gave us extra biscuits on top of what we were buying. Omg i swear, in spite of the language barrier and frantic hand gestures, they were so patient and fellow customers had to help us translate everything we said into italian. now at the hostel, met another italian that insisted we cook authentic italian pasta, we only have tomato puree and uncooked pasta on our hands, he added oregano, olive oil, salt pepper and basically cooked our entire meal for us. People really do amaze me at times.|
I swear, this is the best meal i've ever eaten.
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