You smell like pain
And pleasure
You taste like evil
But you taste so good
You set my soul on fire
The burn feels so good
Mortal wounds are meaningless
Meaningless to us
Make me scars, make me memories
Open my body, expose my soul
Pain with pleasure
Or is it pleasure with pain
Friday, December 18, 2009
Weather or Not Romantic
The little starlets in your eyes
Tell me that everything will be alright
The rain that hugs your cheek
Makes me jealous, I'm so weak
Your body shudders perhaps from cold
But I hope it's from a blissful hold
I kiss your forehead and taste the rain
And whisper softly I love you before your name
Tell me that everything will be alright
The rain that hugs your cheek
Makes me jealous, I'm so weak
Your body shudders perhaps from cold
But I hope it's from a blissful hold
I kiss your forehead and taste the rain
And whisper softly I love you before your name
Want Not More
When nighttime darkness fills our room
And light flitters in from a full moon
Anticapting your flesh against myself soon
Excited tingling scatters over our skin
We embrace, kiss, forget all gods and give in to sin
Your eyes fiercely bright in the low light's din
And primal desires emerge from within
Through our throes and writhes we yearn for more
An exhausting time late,r we're sprawled across the floor
Breathing hard, feeling our bodies soar
Blissfully intertwined, warmth filling our core
And light flitters in from a full moon
Anticapting your flesh against myself soon
Excited tingling scatters over our skin
We embrace, kiss, forget all gods and give in to sin
Your eyes fiercely bright in the low light's din
And primal desires emerge from within
Through our throes and writhes we yearn for more
An exhausting time late,r we're sprawled across the floor
Breathing hard, feeling our bodies soar
Blissfully intertwined, warmth filling our core
Promises To Mio Amore
When you're drowning, I'll be the air you breathe,
When you're crying, I'll be there in your time of need,
When you're heartbroken, I'll remind you to believe,
When you love, I hope that it's me,
When you smile, I hope that I see,
When in autumn, I'll brush your hair of leaves,
When in winter, I'll be the warmth you need,
When in spring, when in summer I'll make sure there's no reason to grieve
When you're crying, I'll be there in your time of need,
When you're heartbroken, I'll remind you to believe,
When you love, I hope that it's me,
When you smile, I hope that I see,
When in autumn, I'll brush your hair of leaves,
When in winter, I'll be the warmth you need,
When in spring, when in summer I'll make sure there's no reason to grieve
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Dad
My father's keeper. Yup. Yuppers. That's me. *smiles*
There's... family skeletons, hate, unknown secrets, half truths, lies, one-sided stories, etc surrounding my Dad. Growing up. Coming to acquire a form of consciousness that escaped me when I was younger, I learned some of these things. These little scars, and hiccups that somewhat jaded my image of my father. But.
He still was a bronze statue to me. In all metaphors of that phrase.
He was never gold, but neither last place. I would choose to have my Dad over any others. And believe you me. I've had a few fathers over short short lifetime. Some were great, caring, very interactive and attentive. But. I would still rather my Dad. My father. Biased much? Biased very. Not just because he's my blood. But I can feel I'm a lot like him. He's not gold. But he's my Dad. Always.
I think if I count the amount of times I've seen my Dad smile. It would be. Twenty. No, lies. Less than twenty makes more sense. Makes more fact. Makes me believe my memory more. He was stoic. I don't know why. I never did. I don't think I will. It's not like I could just sit there and ask him and get a direct response. We've only emotionally connected once in my life. And that was the one dual bond forged from lies and accusation. Fucked huh? Hah. Pretty fucked. He did take us out at times, and it was those times... every time... I remember and... look back on... fondly. ShadowlessTomorrow having a sentimental moment in public? I think I say a twitter feed about hell freezing over. He was a statue but that rigidity grew to look to as comfort. In my chaotic life, my Dad was always there. Just there. Being. Existing in my life. Not contributing but not taking away. In the chaos, he was there. I may be wrong, but I feel that he was around for me.
But, my father is not without his downfalls. And oh so many I know of now in my adult years. Wow. Like, wow. Seriously. How much is true and how much is lies is completely beyond me. How can I sort out what is truth and not? *shrug* I've always said that I honor honesty and truth above all. That in this crazy world. The truth will always be the truth when all fails and falls and crumbles beneath our feet in a pile of rubble spilling over the knee high bile that we have spewed forth, our excrement laying thick and sick. The truth will always be the truth. But... ... ... ... Part of me does not want to make faded the photo of my father in my head. He's not perfect. I know that now. As well. As before. I've known this. I know this. But... He's my Dad. Does that make sense? Is that rational? No. It's not. It's not. It's not. I don't care. Do not take away what little I have.
What I have: Is a few scattered memories of my Dad suggesting I buy a poseable action figure instead of the electronic voice box action figures, to stimulate my mind and creativity. A few fragments of festivals and fairs where he encouraged me to have fun even in our times of poverty. A moment in my life where I understood that he understood me, letting boys be boys. Stirring, and kneading a bowl of tamarind candy because I asked for money for a candy bar. Punishment dealt to me in a way that made me understand my err and make me better for it. A shoulder of support when Mother's insane rants and punishment was undeserved, the only shoulder of support. Shelter when wooden spoons broke on me without cause. Jazz Jack Rabbit. AOL. My first email address, first computer, and first robot. Pride. For my blood, heritage, my uniqueness, my mind.
And my father's greatest legacy to me. My name. My name. No one else's name. No one. It's mine wholly and uniquely. I don't know if that's what he meant to do. To instill me with instantaneous individualism by use of eleven letters. But it did, does, and will always. I'm proud of my fucking name and I fucking hate nicknames. Do not destroy my legacy. *smiles* Yeah. Oh yeah. I should write about my name in another post. (There's sure a lot of topics I put on the back burner and I forget but I doubt I'll forget this one)
In closing, he's not the greatest Dad. I don't see myself buying him a novelty mug. Snazzy tie. Or anything for that matter. He wasn't always there for me, but at the same time he was always there for me. Make sense? No? pfft just follow along and worry not my contradicting sentences. There are skeletons in our family that will come out eventually, that will. Without doubt. Fade my mental photo of him. But I care not. Because my Dad. *shrugs* Will always be my Dad.
My blood is your blood,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Side note: Mother being called Mother is a conscious decision by me. Just as my father I call Dad. I shouldn't have to explain what I mean. Just think.
There's... family skeletons, hate, unknown secrets, half truths, lies, one-sided stories, etc surrounding my Dad. Growing up. Coming to acquire a form of consciousness that escaped me when I was younger, I learned some of these things. These little scars, and hiccups that somewhat jaded my image of my father. But.
He still was a bronze statue to me. In all metaphors of that phrase.
He was never gold, but neither last place. I would choose to have my Dad over any others. And believe you me. I've had a few fathers over short short lifetime. Some were great, caring, very interactive and attentive. But. I would still rather my Dad. My father. Biased much? Biased very. Not just because he's my blood. But I can feel I'm a lot like him. He's not gold. But he's my Dad. Always.
I think if I count the amount of times I've seen my Dad smile. It would be. Twenty. No, lies. Less than twenty makes more sense. Makes more fact. Makes me believe my memory more. He was stoic. I don't know why. I never did. I don't think I will. It's not like I could just sit there and ask him and get a direct response. We've only emotionally connected once in my life. And that was the one dual bond forged from lies and accusation. Fucked huh? Hah. Pretty fucked. He did take us out at times, and it was those times... every time... I remember and... look back on... fondly. ShadowlessTomorrow having a sentimental moment in public? I think I say a twitter feed about hell freezing over. He was a statue but that rigidity grew to look to as comfort. In my chaotic life, my Dad was always there. Just there. Being. Existing in my life. Not contributing but not taking away. In the chaos, he was there. I may be wrong, but I feel that he was around for me.
But, my father is not without his downfalls. And oh so many I know of now in my adult years. Wow. Like, wow. Seriously. How much is true and how much is lies is completely beyond me. How can I sort out what is truth and not? *shrug* I've always said that I honor honesty and truth above all. That in this crazy world. The truth will always be the truth when all fails and falls and crumbles beneath our feet in a pile of rubble spilling over the knee high bile that we have spewed forth, our excrement laying thick and sick. The truth will always be the truth. But... ... ... ... Part of me does not want to make faded the photo of my father in my head. He's not perfect. I know that now. As well. As before. I've known this. I know this. But... He's my Dad. Does that make sense? Is that rational? No. It's not. It's not. It's not. I don't care. Do not take away what little I have.
What I have: Is a few scattered memories of my Dad suggesting I buy a poseable action figure instead of the electronic voice box action figures, to stimulate my mind and creativity. A few fragments of festivals and fairs where he encouraged me to have fun even in our times of poverty. A moment in my life where I understood that he understood me, letting boys be boys. Stirring, and kneading a bowl of tamarind candy because I asked for money for a candy bar. Punishment dealt to me in a way that made me understand my err and make me better for it. A shoulder of support when Mother's insane rants and punishment was undeserved, the only shoulder of support. Shelter when wooden spoons broke on me without cause. Jazz Jack Rabbit. AOL. My first email address, first computer, and first robot. Pride. For my blood, heritage, my uniqueness, my mind.
And my father's greatest legacy to me. My name. My name. No one else's name. No one. It's mine wholly and uniquely. I don't know if that's what he meant to do. To instill me with instantaneous individualism by use of eleven letters. But it did, does, and will always. I'm proud of my fucking name and I fucking hate nicknames. Do not destroy my legacy. *smiles* Yeah. Oh yeah. I should write about my name in another post. (There's sure a lot of topics I put on the back burner and I forget but I doubt I'll forget this one)
In closing, he's not the greatest Dad. I don't see myself buying him a novelty mug. Snazzy tie. Or anything for that matter. He wasn't always there for me, but at the same time he was always there for me. Make sense? No? pfft just follow along and worry not my contradicting sentences. There are skeletons in our family that will come out eventually, that will. Without doubt. Fade my mental photo of him. But I care not. Because my Dad. *shrugs* Will always be my Dad.
My blood is your blood,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Side note: Mother being called Mother is a conscious decision by me. Just as my father I call Dad. I shouldn't have to explain what I mean. Just think.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Make It All Better
Another late night blog. My journal of thoughts. Ha. How emo. Far from it sweetheart. Far from it. (Its hard to type and smoke at the same time... ... ... Okay I'm done. You got my full attention now) Need to clear my head...
Community outreach. Life seeking hands. Throw away memories, out with the old and in with the new. Thoughtless. Mindless. Unequivocal surrender. Clash with the titans in all hell and thunder. Not knowing where is the next bread. Next love. Next great chapter. And after all has been said, what's left to be done. Nothing. Words carry power that rivers envy to match. Blackless shadows. Empty teacups. Empty stove. Empty soul waiting for a emotion to hold. A ways away from the day that may or may not come. Tomorrow holds so much promise, today never did. What will a week bring? A year to far away in advance. Lezz just dance and drink and smoke. And take in all the evils. I'd rather be at the dance hall in hell. Than live in heaven. My choice. Chapter written sand. Blow away dust. Lust a way slow. Slow. Slow. Why don't we just live. Breathe with me, before I leave all too quickly.
Okay, done. Continuing on.
So my friend made a list. A list of people she would like to atone to. For various reasons, of course. Reasons that are beyond my scope. Beyond my reach. And beyond the threshold of where I can trespass. All's well. I don't know them anyways. But the name on the list that really pulls my attentions. Is my own. How strange. What does she need to atone to me for? (Mind you atone isn't used in the greatest sense, but it's the best that fits) The declaration, to sum it up, is that she wanted to do better to those who have done good by her. Now, I don't know what I've done good by her. I don't even know what I've done okay by her. But that's not a half I need to understand anyways. I'm more interested in what she feels she's needs to do better against. Sure, we have this strange come and go friendship. But people are like sales promos in my life. They come, they go. They are seasonal. They come with strings attached. Strings I care not for. Expiration dates I'm fully aware of. No renewal. Perhaps she feels she needs to be a better friend to me. I wouldn't even know what that constitutes even. A better friend...
Example: My best friend. Kitty Kat. I've known her for 4+ years. But I've only hung out with her no more than three times over the saga. Does that mean we're not good friends? Does that mean we're aren't best friends? Nope. She's my run to when my life falls apart. Even when I lived in the hood, we didn't see each other much. It was kind of a dual conscience decision. A symmetrical decision. We liked our personal and impersonal relationship spread over texts, IM's, emails and the few scattered phone calls. It worked. It works. It's fine, great, and what we both want.
So asking me how to be a better friend doesn't make any, any sense to me at all. I just don't understand that word. Or rather combination of words. Either way. I'm at the bottom of the list. Not in order of ascending importance. (or is it descending? I think it's ascending...) It's just because I came later in her life. I suppose I'll have to find out what will happen once I come up on the list. How exciting. It'll be a time of novel revelations for sure. *excited*
So. What of me? what of me? *shrugs* Do I have anyone I need to do better by? *thinks* I can name... no one. What does that mean I wonder. Does it mean that I fancy myself the perfect friend to all my acquaintances? Ha. Perfect and ShadowlessTomorrow are not two words you'll hear in the same sentence often. I suppose if perfect was prefaced by Not, then perhaps. (ha, okay okay, I'll stop downplaying myself. I have some good qualities. Like I shower often enough. *smiles*) How do you suppose one goes about making a list? It's a big step that only big people can take. Even the smallest of the big people would have trouble doing so. I seem to be upsetting myself by trying to think up a list. I'm working myself up into frustration because I can't think of people I have wronged. Maybe...
I've always been honest with myself and thus with other people. For better or worse, I've always been myself. So if I have wronged someone. It was because I would not know better to do different. That's not really a good excuse is it... It's actually a horrible excuse right? Ouch. That's not good at all. (Remember all that perfect talk?)
Ah. Epiphany! It takes a very sharp turn in personality to look back and realize. To see. Because as it stands now. If you were to look back on your life, and see the still frame images. That summer ago. That house back on that old street. You would see it all differently. You would think of what you said to someone with new eyes. Fresh eyes. Eyes that have not seen the scene before. Your eyes, right now, would see the same things. Your mind would think the same things. You would do the same things. Yeah. It takes a sharp turn to see things from a new angle. I'm so stubborn though. I'll go through a brick wall before I even weigh in turning. Seeing your life from a new angle with your own eyes. What a perplexing thought. That's the stuff that keeps people awake at night.
Straight through the fork in the road,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Community outreach. Life seeking hands. Throw away memories, out with the old and in with the new. Thoughtless. Mindless. Unequivocal surrender. Clash with the titans in all hell and thunder. Not knowing where is the next bread. Next love. Next great chapter. And after all has been said, what's left to be done. Nothing. Words carry power that rivers envy to match. Blackless shadows. Empty teacups. Empty stove. Empty soul waiting for a emotion to hold. A ways away from the day that may or may not come. Tomorrow holds so much promise, today never did. What will a week bring? A year to far away in advance. Lezz just dance and drink and smoke. And take in all the evils. I'd rather be at the dance hall in hell. Than live in heaven. My choice. Chapter written sand. Blow away dust. Lust a way slow. Slow. Slow. Why don't we just live. Breathe with me, before I leave all too quickly.
Okay, done. Continuing on.
So my friend made a list. A list of people she would like to atone to. For various reasons, of course. Reasons that are beyond my scope. Beyond my reach. And beyond the threshold of where I can trespass. All's well. I don't know them anyways. But the name on the list that really pulls my attentions. Is my own. How strange. What does she need to atone to me for? (Mind you atone isn't used in the greatest sense, but it's the best that fits) The declaration, to sum it up, is that she wanted to do better to those who have done good by her. Now, I don't know what I've done good by her. I don't even know what I've done okay by her. But that's not a half I need to understand anyways. I'm more interested in what she feels she's needs to do better against. Sure, we have this strange come and go friendship. But people are like sales promos in my life. They come, they go. They are seasonal. They come with strings attached. Strings I care not for. Expiration dates I'm fully aware of. No renewal. Perhaps she feels she needs to be a better friend to me. I wouldn't even know what that constitutes even. A better friend...
Example: My best friend. Kitty Kat. I've known her for 4+ years. But I've only hung out with her no more than three times over the saga. Does that mean we're not good friends? Does that mean we're aren't best friends? Nope. She's my run to when my life falls apart. Even when I lived in the hood, we didn't see each other much. It was kind of a dual conscience decision. A symmetrical decision. We liked our personal and impersonal relationship spread over texts, IM's, emails and the few scattered phone calls. It worked. It works. It's fine, great, and what we both want.
So asking me how to be a better friend doesn't make any, any sense to me at all. I just don't understand that word. Or rather combination of words. Either way. I'm at the bottom of the list. Not in order of ascending importance. (or is it descending? I think it's ascending...) It's just because I came later in her life. I suppose I'll have to find out what will happen once I come up on the list. How exciting. It'll be a time of novel revelations for sure. *excited*
So. What of me? what of me? *shrugs* Do I have anyone I need to do better by? *thinks* I can name... no one. What does that mean I wonder. Does it mean that I fancy myself the perfect friend to all my acquaintances? Ha. Perfect and ShadowlessTomorrow are not two words you'll hear in the same sentence often. I suppose if perfect was prefaced by Not, then perhaps. (ha, okay okay, I'll stop downplaying myself. I have some good qualities. Like I shower often enough. *smiles*) How do you suppose one goes about making a list? It's a big step that only big people can take. Even the smallest of the big people would have trouble doing so. I seem to be upsetting myself by trying to think up a list. I'm working myself up into frustration because I can't think of people I have wronged. Maybe...
I've always been honest with myself and thus with other people. For better or worse, I've always been myself. So if I have wronged someone. It was because I would not know better to do different. That's not really a good excuse is it... It's actually a horrible excuse right? Ouch. That's not good at all. (Remember all that perfect talk?)
Ah. Epiphany! It takes a very sharp turn in personality to look back and realize. To see. Because as it stands now. If you were to look back on your life, and see the still frame images. That summer ago. That house back on that old street. You would see it all differently. You would think of what you said to someone with new eyes. Fresh eyes. Eyes that have not seen the scene before. Your eyes, right now, would see the same things. Your mind would think the same things. You would do the same things. Yeah. It takes a sharp turn to see things from a new angle. I'm so stubborn though. I'll go through a brick wall before I even weigh in turning. Seeing your life from a new angle with your own eyes. What a perplexing thought. That's the stuff that keeps people awake at night.
Straight through the fork in the road,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Something or other
It's raining.
Do you ever escape into your dreams? Sleep and dream up wondrous things, and happenings? I'm not talking about fantasy crystals or anything like that. I mean make up an amazing life for you to live every night. Once day you're the worlds most renown computer programmer known by name across the world, one day you're a successful business who can retire from working because of investments and assets, or one day you have a family and you do all those sitcom, magazine ad, do-good family stuff. Not quite like dreaming of having a purple monkey as your best friend but that's what I dream about. A life to escape my life. I plausible, however wishful, life. Does that mean I'm not happy with my life? I'm quite content. But every now and again, it's nice to imagine your life, only better. Harder, better, faster, stronger.
I don't know where I was going with that. It was just rambling I suppose.
Well this is a short post, very unlike me. I always have something to say on something. But. Just looks like I don't.
I wonder what people think of me sometimes. I wonder what people think when I do weird things. I know my friend thinks I do it for the attention, but I don't. There are things I do for attentions, but generally I think I just do things because it amuses me. I don't know why. I get bored easily I suppose. No, wait. I know I get bored easily. All my acts of randomness are sometimes just randomness. I just want to do it because I want to do it. If I were to try to be different, I don't think I would pull it off well. I guess it gets to me.... Sometimes... When people think I'm random for attention. But if I'm crazy on my alone time, how can one prove that?
It bothers me.
It bothers me when people get the wrong impression of me. Strange right? Very strange. Once again, I don't know where I was going with this. Goodnight.
Rain for me some more,
Shadowlesstomorrow
Do you ever escape into your dreams? Sleep and dream up wondrous things, and happenings? I'm not talking about fantasy crystals or anything like that. I mean make up an amazing life for you to live every night. Once day you're the worlds most renown computer programmer known by name across the world, one day you're a successful business who can retire from working because of investments and assets, or one day you have a family and you do all those sitcom, magazine ad, do-good family stuff. Not quite like dreaming of having a purple monkey as your best friend but that's what I dream about. A life to escape my life. I plausible, however wishful, life. Does that mean I'm not happy with my life? I'm quite content. But every now and again, it's nice to imagine your life, only better. Harder, better, faster, stronger.
I don't know where I was going with that. It was just rambling I suppose.
Well this is a short post, very unlike me. I always have something to say on something. But. Just looks like I don't.
I wonder what people think of me sometimes. I wonder what people think when I do weird things. I know my friend thinks I do it for the attention, but I don't. There are things I do for attentions, but generally I think I just do things because it amuses me. I don't know why. I get bored easily I suppose. No, wait. I know I get bored easily. All my acts of randomness are sometimes just randomness. I just want to do it because I want to do it. If I were to try to be different, I don't think I would pull it off well. I guess it gets to me.... Sometimes... When people think I'm random for attention. But if I'm crazy on my alone time, how can one prove that?
It bothers me.
It bothers me when people get the wrong impression of me. Strange right? Very strange. Once again, I don't know where I was going with this. Goodnight.
Rain for me some more,
Shadowlesstomorrow
Monday, November 9, 2009
Not Sleeping
So here I am. Restless and not sleeping. Thinking again. What else would I be doing if not sleeping right? So like me. I just am. Always thinking. Perhaps thinking too much. Always, always, and always.
So what is the crazy cat thinking about now? Another girl perhaps? Yes and no. Those of you that know me know that it's usually some girl. Always right? Ha. Well this time it isn't some girl. It isn't "some girl". It's more like that one girl. Man its been so long. So long since I've been kept up like this. Sure I've had restless nights in the recent past. But. Not over her. Not over any girl realy. Sure, I have girls floating around my life but not anything that really keeps me up. Dates here and there. Pursuits fruitless and some ending up like a dog chasing a car. Once I have it, it's not what I thought it would be. Ah. Isn't it always like that? Ha. But no not those girls. It's that one girl. Her name. Princess.
Man I miss her. I shouldn't. I'm not suppose to.
(apparently... Actually on the topic of that. Why am I not suppose to? Those who don't know or even understand the history say one thing. Don't. That's all? Really? It's not that easy. It's not that simple. It's complicated. Now doesn't that sound cliche. Of course it does. But that's the best way to describe it. Complicated. I can't just shut the door and turn off the phone. The ones who know, know that I was and am mortally wounded. Emotionally. Emotionally wounded. But that's all they know. They do not know of the smiles. And the love and the undying, unconditional caring and the real, real, real happiness prior to the ugliness. I never judge anything by the way it ends. Such a dumb way to think of things. But as well, I never knew what was best for me. Never did and never will. Ha.)
Anyways, back on topic. Yes. Right. I miss her. I miss My Princess. Am I still allowed to say that? Call her that? I'll stick to Princess. Just Princess. She. Is. Amazing. *shakes head* Still is. How crazy is that? I haven't seen her in so so long, but she can still take my breath away with just a Hi. I. Am. Effing hopeless. Ha. I am.
So here I am. Minding my own business helping this girl with her French studies and my phone rings a number I've never seen before. Ontario it reads. I figure it's my brother or perhaps Mother calling from a new number yet again (that's a whole blog post on it's own. Ha) But no. It's her. And all my breath and thoughts decide to leave all at once. They just say "Bye, we're leaving and we don't know when we'll be back but have fun!" So there I am. Outside that coffee shop gasping for breath and trying to formulate a thought. That isn't "Uh" or "Um". No dice. Straight snake eyes. Straight out of luck. I was hoping to roll sevens but I lucked out. Ha. The lucky cat all lucked out. Who would think it right? Only she could do that. So I surmise the call was uber awkward for her. I could have kept my cool but how could I? It was so... Out of the blue. Like a meteor landing in front of me and a small orange martian pops out asking me where the bathroom was, I was dumbfounded and in the few rare moments of my life. I was at a lost for words. It was like I was learning English for the first time and did not know how to speak it. Stupidfied. Good word. Very fitting. She said she would call me back. And in all fairness when I for another call from an unknown province................. I ignored it. What's strange ( ha I just thought of my friend Pippy. Anyways...) What's strange is that I grabbed at my phone everytime I got another unknown call. Ha. God I'm so funny. Once again, an example of how amazing she is. She can break my resolved so easily. Without even trying to mind you.
*sight* I'm glad I have this blog to spit out my thoughts to lest they eat me alive. These dirty little demonic thoughts that blockade sleep and normal cognitive functions during the day time. I don't know why I'm thinking of this now but I am. I'll think on it though. It'll be another blog post so stay tuned. Like anyone reads this anyways.
1:40 am on a patio smoking,
Shadowlesstomorrow
So what is the crazy cat thinking about now? Another girl perhaps? Yes and no. Those of you that know me know that it's usually some girl. Always right? Ha. Well this time it isn't some girl. It isn't "some girl". It's more like that one girl. Man its been so long. So long since I've been kept up like this. Sure I've had restless nights in the recent past. But. Not over her. Not over any girl realy. Sure, I have girls floating around my life but not anything that really keeps me up. Dates here and there. Pursuits fruitless and some ending up like a dog chasing a car. Once I have it, it's not what I thought it would be. Ah. Isn't it always like that? Ha. But no not those girls. It's that one girl. Her name. Princess.
Man I miss her. I shouldn't. I'm not suppose to.
(apparently... Actually on the topic of that. Why am I not suppose to? Those who don't know or even understand the history say one thing. Don't. That's all? Really? It's not that easy. It's not that simple. It's complicated. Now doesn't that sound cliche. Of course it does. But that's the best way to describe it. Complicated. I can't just shut the door and turn off the phone. The ones who know, know that I was and am mortally wounded. Emotionally. Emotionally wounded. But that's all they know. They do not know of the smiles. And the love and the undying, unconditional caring and the real, real, real happiness prior to the ugliness. I never judge anything by the way it ends. Such a dumb way to think of things. But as well, I never knew what was best for me. Never did and never will. Ha.)
Anyways, back on topic. Yes. Right. I miss her. I miss My Princess. Am I still allowed to say that? Call her that? I'll stick to Princess. Just Princess. She. Is. Amazing. *shakes head* Still is. How crazy is that? I haven't seen her in so so long, but she can still take my breath away with just a Hi. I. Am. Effing hopeless. Ha. I am.
So here I am. Minding my own business helping this girl with her French studies and my phone rings a number I've never seen before. Ontario it reads. I figure it's my brother or perhaps Mother calling from a new number yet again (that's a whole blog post on it's own. Ha) But no. It's her. And all my breath and thoughts decide to leave all at once. They just say "Bye, we're leaving and we don't know when we'll be back but have fun!" So there I am. Outside that coffee shop gasping for breath and trying to formulate a thought. That isn't "Uh" or "Um". No dice. Straight snake eyes. Straight out of luck. I was hoping to roll sevens but I lucked out. Ha. The lucky cat all lucked out. Who would think it right? Only she could do that. So I surmise the call was uber awkward for her. I could have kept my cool but how could I? It was so... Out of the blue. Like a meteor landing in front of me and a small orange martian pops out asking me where the bathroom was, I was dumbfounded and in the few rare moments of my life. I was at a lost for words. It was like I was learning English for the first time and did not know how to speak it. Stupidfied. Good word. Very fitting. She said she would call me back. And in all fairness when I for another call from an unknown province................. I ignored it. What's strange ( ha I just thought of my friend Pippy. Anyways...) What's strange is that I grabbed at my phone everytime I got another unknown call. Ha. God I'm so funny. Once again, an example of how amazing she is. She can break my resolved so easily. Without even trying to mind you.
*sight* I'm glad I have this blog to spit out my thoughts to lest they eat me alive. These dirty little demonic thoughts that blockade sleep and normal cognitive functions during the day time. I don't know why I'm thinking of this now but I am. I'll think on it though. It'll be another blog post so stay tuned. Like anyone reads this anyways.
1:40 am on a patio smoking,
Shadowlesstomorrow
Friday, November 6, 2009
Shibaraku
So I haven't made and entry in a long time. I guess I'll do it while I'm drunk. Man, there's been so many things that have happened in the the meantime. I just haven't had the time or energy to say it here. It's been crazy...
My sis was missing for a bit... I broke down and cried the first hour she was missing. No joke. No lie. I never say that I love her. I never say any sort of affection towards her. But. I do. I cried. I cried because she makes me lunch when I go to work. She makes me breakfast when I wake up late. She's my sister. My flesh and blood. It's not even that, because she's my flesh and blood. She can yell and cuss at me all day but I would still feel the same way. I'm stubborn like that.
So here goes the real meaning of this blog. I wanted to talk about the difference between omission of truth and lying. I don't it's the same thing. No way. Not even close. Lying to me is outright stating the opposite of the truth. Omission of truth is just not saying the truth. I'm not lying. I'm just not telling you the truth. I think I have talked about this before but... it's been brought up recently to me. I've internally debating, whether or not I should.
Should I tell her. Or should I withold the truth.... I don't know. I think that is the truth were to hurt, and they did not request for the truth... then why should they know? I'm honest but why cause hurt when it's not needed. Ahhh. It's such a debate in my head. I want to say "Stop, it's not good..." but who am I to judge... I'm not any better. I'm not. But I respect her... God I do... Enough... I'm done. I'm sure it'll come about again.
Drunk but not all happy,
Shadowlesstomorrow
My sis was missing for a bit... I broke down and cried the first hour she was missing. No joke. No lie. I never say that I love her. I never say any sort of affection towards her. But. I do. I cried. I cried because she makes me lunch when I go to work. She makes me breakfast when I wake up late. She's my sister. My flesh and blood. It's not even that, because she's my flesh and blood. She can yell and cuss at me all day but I would still feel the same way. I'm stubborn like that.
So here goes the real meaning of this blog. I wanted to talk about the difference between omission of truth and lying. I don't it's the same thing. No way. Not even close. Lying to me is outright stating the opposite of the truth. Omission of truth is just not saying the truth. I'm not lying. I'm just not telling you the truth. I think I have talked about this before but... it's been brought up recently to me. I've internally debating, whether or not I should.
Should I tell her. Or should I withold the truth.... I don't know. I think that is the truth were to hurt, and they did not request for the truth... then why should they know? I'm honest but why cause hurt when it's not needed. Ahhh. It's such a debate in my head. I want to say "Stop, it's not good..." but who am I to judge... I'm not any better. I'm not. But I respect her... God I do... Enough... I'm done. I'm sure it'll come about again.
Drunk but not all happy,
Shadowlesstomorrow
Monday, July 27, 2009
Silver Lining
So now I'm free from the warmth of your arms
Free to commit myself harm
I never have to feel that I'm safe
Or feel any part of my day
I won't have to smile again
But still I wish that we didn't end
Now a part of me feels so cold
But forget it just leave me alone
I just don't know where to go
But forget it just leave me alone
Our heart to heart/ Feels far apart/ My nights are cold, my days are dark/ I just don't know, who you are/ You left me with too many scars/ I'll limp away but not to far... at all
So now I'm free from your beautiful eyes
Free to live my lonely life
I never have to kiss with these lips
But forget me I don't want to be missed
I won't have to hug again
But still I wish that we didn't end.
I love this song. It's beautiful and sad all at the same time. I'm working on putting music to the words.
Free to commit myself harm
I never have to feel that I'm safe
Or feel any part of my day
I won't have to smile again
But still I wish that we didn't end
Now a part of me feels so cold
But forget it just leave me alone
I just don't know where to go
But forget it just leave me alone
Our heart to heart/ Feels far apart/ My nights are cold, my days are dark/ I just don't know, who you are/ You left me with too many scars/ I'll limp away but not to far... at all
So now I'm free from your beautiful eyes
Free to live my lonely life
I never have to kiss with these lips
But forget me I don't want to be missed
I won't have to hug again
But still I wish that we didn't end.
I love this song. It's beautiful and sad all at the same time. I'm working on putting music to the words.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Ode to Babygirl
Speak to me in foolish tongues
Evils not bred from where you're from
Sweet charms float to my ears
Doesn't matter what, just that you're here
Know that your voice will carry me home
Keep me company when I'm all alone
Make obsolete all that I've known
Make useless all that I own
Sweet sirens song
Hold your note forever long
Lead me away to a beautiful place
Away from any onlooking face
To any shaded corner with only candle light
Hidden from all the annual trite
Make me recover, heal for tonight
You and I know this feels right
Ice your words just for my sake
Sugary topping on your body's cake
Lead me to bliss, lead me to ecstasy
I would not leave if even left to me
Sugar spills forth from your lips
Sex appeal wafts from your hips
Eyes entrance me in their seductive grip
One single kiss and you know I'll slip
Sweet angel, sweet demon
Give me, my life, a meaning
Evils not bred from where you're from
Sweet charms float to my ears
Doesn't matter what, just that you're here
Know that your voice will carry me home
Keep me company when I'm all alone
Make obsolete all that I've known
Make useless all that I own
Sweet sirens song
Hold your note forever long
Lead me away to a beautiful place
Away from any onlooking face
To any shaded corner with only candle light
Hidden from all the annual trite
Make me recover, heal for tonight
You and I know this feels right
Ice your words just for my sake
Sugary topping on your body's cake
Lead me to bliss, lead me to ecstasy
I would not leave if even left to me
Sugar spills forth from your lips
Sex appeal wafts from your hips
Eyes entrance me in their seductive grip
One single kiss and you know I'll slip
Sweet angel, sweet demon
Give me, my life, a meaning
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Hell Is Other People
Lets set the background story before I begin:
It's about 6:30-7:00 and I start getting this really bad headache. Normally they run their course and I feel fine in a few moments. Normally. This time it got worse and worse until I started to scream and swear at shit for no reason. I couldn't take it. I started to play some games hoping to get my mind off it. Let it pass. No dice. I drank water hoping to drown out the pain. No luck. Then... I felt it bubbling up... My headache is still screeching, screaming into my head telling me to get the fuck out. Then I threw up. I don't know whether from the pain or the cause of the headache but there it was. But it was a fucked up sort of throw up... all red and shit... Not saying blood but not sure either. I sat in the shower for awhile and it helped but I can feel it coming back.
So why the back story? So you can sob at my pain and pity me? Looking for a sympathy vote? No. Because I'd like to talk about people. And don't fucking call me a drama queen because I've never complained about any headache to this extent nor have I had one so bad it made me throw up.
Somewhere in all of that, I tried to contact a few people. People I thought talking to would help me straighten out. Clam me down. At least provide some support. Every door was locked and blinds turned down. People I thought would be there for me like I would be for them, turned away or turned off their phone. Maybe they had very valid reasons. But for all of them to be busy on a Sunday night. Little fucked. Little very fucked. If I was inebriated out my wits, granted I couldn't be of any help either. But I've woken up late nights, left for far reaches, walked down streets in the dark to help these people when they needed me. Am I selfish to ask the same? Pathetic am I to ask for help when I need it? Whatever. (Oh and just so you know these people I called I can number on one hand, guess the number dwindles once more.)
There was someone though. Even though this someone was out and about with a friend and couldn't fully attend to me, what little that person did, I'm terribly grateful for. 1 out of 5. Yeah shitty odds but I'm grateful that I know you. Makes you stand out above the rest. I'm thinking you'll stay there for some time.
People disappoint. Plain and fucking simple. No one is there, because quite frankly no one really gives a shit. People fucking suck. They have their world so why bother with anything else. These people make me wonder why I care. Why do I? Knowing me, I'll wake up tomorrow with quiet contempt but still willing to offer two hands. Fucked. So very fucked.
Fucking Headache,
ShadowlessTomorrow
It's about 6:30-7:00 and I start getting this really bad headache. Normally they run their course and I feel fine in a few moments. Normally. This time it got worse and worse until I started to scream and swear at shit for no reason. I couldn't take it. I started to play some games hoping to get my mind off it. Let it pass. No dice. I drank water hoping to drown out the pain. No luck. Then... I felt it bubbling up... My headache is still screeching, screaming into my head telling me to get the fuck out. Then I threw up. I don't know whether from the pain or the cause of the headache but there it was. But it was a fucked up sort of throw up... all red and shit... Not saying blood but not sure either. I sat in the shower for awhile and it helped but I can feel it coming back.
So why the back story? So you can sob at my pain and pity me? Looking for a sympathy vote? No. Because I'd like to talk about people. And don't fucking call me a drama queen because I've never complained about any headache to this extent nor have I had one so bad it made me throw up.
Somewhere in all of that, I tried to contact a few people. People I thought talking to would help me straighten out. Clam me down. At least provide some support. Every door was locked and blinds turned down. People I thought would be there for me like I would be for them, turned away or turned off their phone. Maybe they had very valid reasons. But for all of them to be busy on a Sunday night. Little fucked. Little very fucked. If I was inebriated out my wits, granted I couldn't be of any help either. But I've woken up late nights, left for far reaches, walked down streets in the dark to help these people when they needed me. Am I selfish to ask the same? Pathetic am I to ask for help when I need it? Whatever. (Oh and just so you know these people I called I can number on one hand, guess the number dwindles once more.)
There was someone though. Even though this someone was out and about with a friend and couldn't fully attend to me, what little that person did, I'm terribly grateful for. 1 out of 5. Yeah shitty odds but I'm grateful that I know you. Makes you stand out above the rest. I'm thinking you'll stay there for some time.
People disappoint. Plain and fucking simple. No one is there, because quite frankly no one really gives a shit. People fucking suck. They have their world so why bother with anything else. These people make me wonder why I care. Why do I? Knowing me, I'll wake up tomorrow with quiet contempt but still willing to offer two hands. Fucked. So very fucked.
Fucking Headache,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Emaciated Heart
A starved heart so weak with hunger
Succumbs to emotional blunder
Needing sustenance carried by others
Drinking in the smell of a lover
Strengthen by the feel of another
But grows gaunt away from loves udder
To fragile now, every touch it shudders
Seeking solace deep under covers
Listless days sailed without rudder
Like a rose needing the sun of summer
A heart needs to have a lover
Succumbs to emotional blunder
Needing sustenance carried by others
Drinking in the smell of a lover
Strengthen by the feel of another
But grows gaunt away from loves udder
To fragile now, every touch it shudders
Seeking solace deep under covers
Listless days sailed without rudder
Like a rose needing the sun of summer
A heart needs to have a lover
Sun Rise Patience
Breathe and beleive
That today will soon leave
Like an echo of a dream
When awoken by what you didn't see
Just a piece
Of tomorrow will bring me peace
The sun rises to set me free
That today will soon leave
Like an echo of a dream
When awoken by what you didn't see
Just a piece
Of tomorrow will bring me peace
The sun rises to set me free
Free Radical Thoughts
Partial memories
Burning through amenities
Centuries and centuries
Thoughts of old enemies
And friends in elementary
Sun leaking through a canopy
Ruining your sanctity
For others to see
Skeletons on your mantle breathe
Roughly handling seas
Locked doors with ample keys
Hidden away to never retrieve
Buried no where plain to see
But no soul can be deceived
A train smashes the tranquility
A cargo of partial memories
Tied down hard to release
Burning through amenities
Centuries and centuries
Thoughts of old enemies
And friends in elementary
Sun leaking through a canopy
Ruining your sanctity
For others to see
Skeletons on your mantle breathe
Roughly handling seas
Locked doors with ample keys
Hidden away to never retrieve
Buried no where plain to see
But no soul can be deceived
A train smashes the tranquility
A cargo of partial memories
Tied down hard to release
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Not Good
I'm a terrible person.
Girls. Stay away from me. I'll drink, smoke, lie, cheat, and steal. Nah... I could never lie. I'm still a bad person considering my other aspects though. I drink too much. Smoke too much. Cheat, connive, be shrewd too much. Steal too often. Lie... Never... Couldn't do it... Honesty is too important to me (more on the facets of that subject later). When girls tell me I'm such a nice guy, so sweet, so kind. I feign to accept the praise. I know I'm not a good guy... I don't bullshit that I am. (For the record, I don't mean cheat like cheat on a girl, I mean cheat as in trick. Too loyal to cheat on a girl.)
I may pull out your chair, always pick up the tab, open the door, give you my shirt when you're cold but that's all old chivalry. I drink my whiskey hard, smoke cigarettes that burn, and do both way too often. I pull tricks of vocabulary to get what I want, and get the information I need. And when satisfied I'm gone like a shadow when mid-noon hits. I don't abuse girls for physical needs. One night stands are beyond me. I like my intercourse to have inter-emotions. To have feeling, caring, love and want. I don't like having sex for the pure sake of sex. It's rude, it's brash, it's too too primal. Aside from that, I'm a terrible person.
Lying. I could never do. Ever. I'm too honest and I only ask for honesty from people I interact with. Brutal honesty. Tell me I'm an ugly prick because that shirt doesn't match my shoes. Tell me I'm a scrub because I haven't shaved. Tell me I'm not prince charming. I'm always honest. It gets me in trouble but I think people deserve it. Deserve to hear the truth, no matter what it is. It gets me in trouble... such terrible trouble... I'm sorry. Sincerely sorry when my honesty comes out.
That's another reason why I'm a terrible person. I'll never give you the perfect answer. I'll never sugar coat to save your feelings. If you don't look good, I'll tell you. If you think you should feel terrible and I think you should. You'll know. Never ask me for honesty if you can't accept it. Never ask me to lie becauase I won't do it. Always understand everything I say will come from honest heart. Will come from my truth. Will not be "The Truth" but it will be my truth. I'm terrible... I'm horribly too honest for my own good.
Other guys will keep their habits under wraps. Will always tell you you look good. Will never talk to you unless necessary. Trust me darling. It may seem like all the things you want and it is. I'm not the best of guys. And it all stems from how honest I am. I'll tell you I drink all the time. Where as most guys will tell you they only do it when situation permits. I'll tell you I smoke like a barbecue house. Most guys will tell you they smoke rarely only when they drink. I'll tell you I will be shrewd when it comes to information I want. Most guys will say they don't care. I'll tell you look fat because you do. Most guys will say you always look beautiful. I'll omit the truth but never lie. Most guys will out and out lie.
Omission of truth is not lying. Don't play that with me. It's not lying. It's not. If I never told you I was a body builder, would you say I lied to you? If I never you told you I like milk, would you say I lied? If I never told you I like someone else, would you say I lied? People always seem to think lies are what affect them. And I do agree. If someone lies that they have cookies at home; that doesn't bother me. If someone lies that they don't have a boyfriend; that bothers me. But if I neglect to tell you something, it's not lying. You already having a boyfriend may bother me, but in serious fact, you never lied to me; I never asked. I never out and out said "You're the only person I'm kissing." Yeah it's sneaky. Yeah it's conniving. Yeah... I'm a terrible person. I'll tell you eventually when conscience smacks me but by then it might be too late...
To all the people, that have been with me. I apologize. I've always treated you well. I've always cared for you exponentially as the days went by. I've always done more for you than me. But I apologize because somewhere down the line, you finally understood what I am saying now.
I just sabotaged myself and kept you safe. What a saint I am.
Public Service Announcement,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Girls. Stay away from me. I'll drink, smoke, lie, cheat, and steal. Nah... I could never lie. I'm still a bad person considering my other aspects though. I drink too much. Smoke too much. Cheat, connive, be shrewd too much. Steal too often. Lie... Never... Couldn't do it... Honesty is too important to me (more on the facets of that subject later). When girls tell me I'm such a nice guy, so sweet, so kind. I feign to accept the praise. I know I'm not a good guy... I don't bullshit that I am. (For the record, I don't mean cheat like cheat on a girl, I mean cheat as in trick. Too loyal to cheat on a girl.)
I may pull out your chair, always pick up the tab, open the door, give you my shirt when you're cold but that's all old chivalry. I drink my whiskey hard, smoke cigarettes that burn, and do both way too often. I pull tricks of vocabulary to get what I want, and get the information I need. And when satisfied I'm gone like a shadow when mid-noon hits. I don't abuse girls for physical needs. One night stands are beyond me. I like my intercourse to have inter-emotions. To have feeling, caring, love and want. I don't like having sex for the pure sake of sex. It's rude, it's brash, it's too too primal. Aside from that, I'm a terrible person.
Lying. I could never do. Ever. I'm too honest and I only ask for honesty from people I interact with. Brutal honesty. Tell me I'm an ugly prick because that shirt doesn't match my shoes. Tell me I'm a scrub because I haven't shaved. Tell me I'm not prince charming. I'm always honest. It gets me in trouble but I think people deserve it. Deserve to hear the truth, no matter what it is. It gets me in trouble... such terrible trouble... I'm sorry. Sincerely sorry when my honesty comes out.
That's another reason why I'm a terrible person. I'll never give you the perfect answer. I'll never sugar coat to save your feelings. If you don't look good, I'll tell you. If you think you should feel terrible and I think you should. You'll know. Never ask me for honesty if you can't accept it. Never ask me to lie becauase I won't do it. Always understand everything I say will come from honest heart. Will come from my truth. Will not be "The Truth" but it will be my truth. I'm terrible... I'm horribly too honest for my own good.
Other guys will keep their habits under wraps. Will always tell you you look good. Will never talk to you unless necessary. Trust me darling. It may seem like all the things you want and it is. I'm not the best of guys. And it all stems from how honest I am. I'll tell you I drink all the time. Where as most guys will tell you they only do it when situation permits. I'll tell you I smoke like a barbecue house. Most guys will tell you they smoke rarely only when they drink. I'll tell you I will be shrewd when it comes to information I want. Most guys will say they don't care. I'll tell you look fat because you do. Most guys will say you always look beautiful. I'll omit the truth but never lie. Most guys will out and out lie.
Omission of truth is not lying. Don't play that with me. It's not lying. It's not. If I never told you I was a body builder, would you say I lied to you? If I never you told you I like milk, would you say I lied? If I never told you I like someone else, would you say I lied? People always seem to think lies are what affect them. And I do agree. If someone lies that they have cookies at home; that doesn't bother me. If someone lies that they don't have a boyfriend; that bothers me. But if I neglect to tell you something, it's not lying. You already having a boyfriend may bother me, but in serious fact, you never lied to me; I never asked. I never out and out said "You're the only person I'm kissing." Yeah it's sneaky. Yeah it's conniving. Yeah... I'm a terrible person. I'll tell you eventually when conscience smacks me but by then it might be too late...
To all the people, that have been with me. I apologize. I've always treated you well. I've always cared for you exponentially as the days went by. I've always done more for you than me. But I apologize because somewhere down the line, you finally understood what I am saying now.
I just sabotaged myself and kept you safe. What a saint I am.
Public Service Announcement,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Moon-less Night
We're breathing stale cigarettes
And a smile is still on our lips
Your skirt pulled up to your hips
Drinks on the floor not to be missed
A vodka sting still on your kiss
We live life with a little bit of risk
We leave the living room couch still tipped
On our own clothes we trip
Your nails dig into the wall you grip
Right at the same time inside I slip
Others would find us to be so sick
Because heaven for us is so subject
But we can make hell fell like heaven just yet
Demons of demons
Feeling without meaning
Closed eyes still dreaming
Fast breaths silently needing
In darkness your eyes are gleaming
More pressure and force your screaming
Demons of demons
Let lust be our feeding
And a smile is still on our lips
Your skirt pulled up to your hips
Drinks on the floor not to be missed
A vodka sting still on your kiss
We live life with a little bit of risk
We leave the living room couch still tipped
On our own clothes we trip
Your nails dig into the wall you grip
Right at the same time inside I slip
Others would find us to be so sick
Because heaven for us is so subject
But we can make hell fell like heaven just yet
Demons of demons
Feeling without meaning
Closed eyes still dreaming
Fast breaths silently needing
In darkness your eyes are gleaming
More pressure and force your screaming
Demons of demons
Let lust be our feeding
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Wishful Thinking
People keep asking what I want for my birthday. Here is the list in no particular order:
Not Expecting Much,
ShadowlessTomorrow
- A Happy Birthday Wikipedia page
A shadow puppet show
Happy Birthday sung by a barbershop quartet
Armageddon notice singing telegram.
A donkey ride
Full sized Companion Cube
A pound of bacon, uncooked
Power rangers Ninja Zord
3 foot radius pizza
Self-destructing assassination orders (doesn’t matter who just want it to explode)
Full sized working Liger Zero Jager
Trained monkey butler
A trip to a labyrinth
Real glacier water
Love
Not Expecting Much,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Unseen Mechanics
Sometimes I wonder, what I'm doing. Not in the small local sense. The daily insignificant footprint of drinking water, breathing, etc. I mean in the grander sense. The larger destiny, fate, blah blah blah sense.
I wonder if I am going down the path "destined" for me. But that thought string has so many holes it in I could use it as a fishnet. Destiny is inevitable, and therefore I cannot be going down the wrong path. But if everything is inevitable, then why bother deciding, choosing, having free will. But if by not acting on our "free will", what if that is my destiny. And that logic loop goes on for quite some time until dizzy minds either relent or come up with non-logical solutions. So in the end it boils down to two beliefs as to the clockwork of the world. There is destiny or there is not. More on that later, but first...
Don't give me that crap that you can choose your destiny. If you believe this then you are not using that word in it's correct definition.
Webster lend me a hand here: Webster's Definition
1 : something to which a person or thing is destined : fortune
2 : a predetermined course of events often held to be an irresistible power or agency
Oxford wants a say in this as well: Oxford Destiny
1 the events that will happen to a person, regarded as predetermined by fate.
2 the hidden power believed to control this; fate.
If you believe in destiny then you cannot change the course it takes. You are driving down the road and you cannot turn left or right. The scenery will change but the road you are on has a clear defined end. The trees, bushes, mountains to your left and right are essentially your life. If you believe in destiny, then life, to oversimplify, is a movie. You can only watch it play out and not reach out to affect it's outcome for better or worse. I wonder if anyone has ever put it that way for you.
You either believe you are watching the movie, or you are creating the movie. You are either the master or the slave. You are either chained or set free. You are either being pushed or pushing. (I hope I am not destroying your romantic, beautiful, poetic image of destiny. I sincerely apologize if I am. I just want to place in perspective the two views because there is not middle ground. At least not any I am willing to accept)
Destiny is beautiful in it's own right, in it's own ways, in it's own world. It's an amazingly breathtaking thought to think that the person you have spent ten memorable years with was destined to be with you. When a meeting that seemed to happen so easily it could not be mere chance. But when you break through the pretty, shiny hollywood image, you realize you're on the logical train that you have no control over what happens. You are a passenger on the plane and the captain can nosedive you into the sandy dunes below. The person you spent ten memorable years with, you are stuck with, even if those ten memorable years have drained all the blue from your eyes. No control, you'll just have to watch. Destiny is a spectator sport whether impossible three pointers or violent mangled accidents. Don't close your eyes, you can't.
The opposite side of the coin, free-will? Choice? Whatever you want to call it, you don't beleive in destiny. You believe you make your own choices. You could either go have coffee and meet Mr. Incredible or go have lunch and have a salad. It's up to you. The world is your playground, your sandbox, your stone block waiting to be scuplted. An infinite amount of choices are laid before you like a sultan persusing the local talent for a new wife (Ha I needed at least one chauvanistic joke) What could possibly be wrong with Choice? Too many choices and you become overwhelemed. No direction, no bearing. You are but a pinprick in a vast world of choices with no clear heading wandering aimlessly until you find something you'll settle for because you know you aren't stuck here but rather you choose to be here. There is no end. It's infinite. Running a race with no end gets tiresome, don't you think? Pretty soon you don't know what you want that sand to be anymore, you've chipped away at the stone so much it doesn't looks amorphous now. Then you hear people say "I don't know what I'm suppose to do." Apparently, you can do whatever you want. Tough luck, no high power will decide that for you now free thinker.
I beleive... well... I don't care. If there is a path for me already laid out, then why the hell should I worry about what I do because I'll end up where I'm suppose to be anyways. If destiny does not exist then I'm still going to act, react, speak, think as I always have because just being me will lead to where I want to be. I find that either way it does not change the way I will exist in my daily life. It's a far away concept. Both of them. And it doesn't affect me in a tangible way. I'm still going to smoke, write my silly poems, and think all sorts of ludicrous thoughts. I believe in something entirely different. I'm just fun like that.
Inwardly Obtrusive,
ShadowlessTomorrow
I wonder if I am going down the path "destined" for me. But that thought string has so many holes it in I could use it as a fishnet. Destiny is inevitable, and therefore I cannot be going down the wrong path. But if everything is inevitable, then why bother deciding, choosing, having free will. But if by not acting on our "free will", what if that is my destiny. And that logic loop goes on for quite some time until dizzy minds either relent or come up with non-logical solutions. So in the end it boils down to two beliefs as to the clockwork of the world. There is destiny or there is not. More on that later, but first...
Don't give me that crap that you can choose your destiny. If you believe this then you are not using that word in it's correct definition.
Webster lend me a hand here: Webster's Definition
1 : something to which a person or thing is destined : fortune
2 : a predetermined course of events often held to be an irresistible power or agency
Oxford wants a say in this as well: Oxford Destiny
1 the events that will happen to a person, regarded as predetermined by fate.
2 the hidden power believed to control this; fate.
If you believe in destiny then you cannot change the course it takes. You are driving down the road and you cannot turn left or right. The scenery will change but the road you are on has a clear defined end. The trees, bushes, mountains to your left and right are essentially your life. If you believe in destiny, then life, to oversimplify, is a movie. You can only watch it play out and not reach out to affect it's outcome for better or worse. I wonder if anyone has ever put it that way for you.
You either believe you are watching the movie, or you are creating the movie. You are either the master or the slave. You are either chained or set free. You are either being pushed or pushing. (I hope I am not destroying your romantic, beautiful, poetic image of destiny. I sincerely apologize if I am. I just want to place in perspective the two views because there is not middle ground. At least not any I am willing to accept)
Destiny is beautiful in it's own right, in it's own ways, in it's own world. It's an amazingly breathtaking thought to think that the person you have spent ten memorable years with was destined to be with you. When a meeting that seemed to happen so easily it could not be mere chance. But when you break through the pretty, shiny hollywood image, you realize you're on the logical train that you have no control over what happens. You are a passenger on the plane and the captain can nosedive you into the sandy dunes below. The person you spent ten memorable years with, you are stuck with, even if those ten memorable years have drained all the blue from your eyes. No control, you'll just have to watch. Destiny is a spectator sport whether impossible three pointers or violent mangled accidents. Don't close your eyes, you can't.
The opposite side of the coin, free-will? Choice? Whatever you want to call it, you don't beleive in destiny. You believe you make your own choices. You could either go have coffee and meet Mr. Incredible or go have lunch and have a salad. It's up to you. The world is your playground, your sandbox, your stone block waiting to be scuplted. An infinite amount of choices are laid before you like a sultan persusing the local talent for a new wife (Ha I needed at least one chauvanistic joke) What could possibly be wrong with Choice? Too many choices and you become overwhelemed. No direction, no bearing. You are but a pinprick in a vast world of choices with no clear heading wandering aimlessly until you find something you'll settle for because you know you aren't stuck here but rather you choose to be here. There is no end. It's infinite. Running a race with no end gets tiresome, don't you think? Pretty soon you don't know what you want that sand to be anymore, you've chipped away at the stone so much it doesn't looks amorphous now. Then you hear people say "I don't know what I'm suppose to do." Apparently, you can do whatever you want. Tough luck, no high power will decide that for you now free thinker.
I beleive... well... I don't care. If there is a path for me already laid out, then why the hell should I worry about what I do because I'll end up where I'm suppose to be anyways. If destiny does not exist then I'm still going to act, react, speak, think as I always have because just being me will lead to where I want to be. I find that either way it does not change the way I will exist in my daily life. It's a far away concept. Both of them. And it doesn't affect me in a tangible way. I'm still going to smoke, write my silly poems, and think all sorts of ludicrous thoughts. I believe in something entirely different. I'm just fun like that.
Inwardly Obtrusive,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Monday, March 30, 2009
Preface To An Era
Inevitably, during some light conversation over drinks with your friends, when you lean in for a sneaky kiss on her cheek just for the sake of seeing her blush, someone will ask you that question. It'll always happen. It's as clockwork as drinks and a bedroom scene or, more poetic, stars after sunset.
"How did you guys meet?"
Here's the best part, I think. If you are enjoying the relationship you are in, you'll always do this. Always. I will bet money and my three best pigs on this (trust me these are some prize pigs I'm putting on the line). -You'll grin something stupid like and look at each other. *smiles*
"Oh well you know... Oh gosh Honey you tell it."
"No no, I don't like telling it. You tell it."
"But baby you tell it so much better."
"Okay, I guess I'll tell it babygirl. You really do like this story too much."
The tensions and anticipation mounts. Your friends are leaning on the edge of their seat. The waitress frozen, forgetting she needs go get more drinks. The table behind you has suspiciously stopped silent ears turned like parabolic sound arrays.
"We met at the mall."
Epic failure. Of the most epic kind. Utter failure.
All the great, super cute, adorably luvy couples always have some crazy story.
"... Then the donkey wouldn't leave... "
I've found that for me, the more complicated the start of a relationship is, the longer it lasts in my life. The more complicated, multi-faceted the start, the longer more emotionally charged it throws me around.
"... never did find where the missing wrench went... ...lost twenty dollars, four cents, and a shirt that night..."
I love those beginnings. When I see them emerging, forming it's horrendous drama filled little smile in front of me, whispering in my ear, 'This will be fun' I shake my head, smile, and press forward ready for adventure and excitement.
I think back to my longer, more close to heart, relationships and I see that they all had very complicated beginnings. She just started dating another guy, I originally liked her cousin, we argued the first time we met about her origins, she wanted me when I wanted someone else, slit wrists over my lack of attention, and the list goes on to varying degrees of insanity and sweet hollywood-spun story lines. And theses are the people who have stood out, in my world of singular friends, existing only within singular moments. They are the moving pictures compared to the snapshots of friends. They are the rainy days squeezed between endless sunlight, memorable. They are the spelunkers to my soul compared to the other pond skimmers. They make me smile more brightly, feel more terribly sad, laugh more whole heartedly, cry stinging tears.
If you notice, that our relationship, friendship, companionship, started in highly irregular ways. You can be assured that, yeah, you are more than just a paragraph in my life. You are a chapter and if you stay long enough, learn how to get close enough, ask the right questions, hear the right things, you can be a book if you want to. It's not a requsite to becoming someone close to me, just that it seems to go hand in hand. Don't stray away because of the drama and chaos initially. I breathe chaos, let me breathe.
Encountering Complications,
ShadowlessTomorrow
"How did you guys meet?"
Here's the best part, I think. If you are enjoying the relationship you are in, you'll always do this. Always. I will bet money and my three best pigs on this (trust me these are some prize pigs I'm putting on the line). -You'll grin something stupid like and look at each other. *smiles*
"Oh well you know... Oh gosh Honey you tell it."
"No no, I don't like telling it. You tell it."
"But baby you tell it so much better."
"Okay, I guess I'll tell it babygirl. You really do like this story too much."
The tensions and anticipation mounts. Your friends are leaning on the edge of their seat. The waitress frozen, forgetting she needs go get more drinks. The table behind you has suspiciously stopped silent ears turned like parabolic sound arrays.
"We met at the mall."
Epic failure. Of the most epic kind. Utter failure.
All the great, super cute, adorably luvy couples always have some crazy story.
"... Then the donkey wouldn't leave... "
I've found that for me, the more complicated the start of a relationship is, the longer it lasts in my life. The more complicated, multi-faceted the start, the longer more emotionally charged it throws me around.
"... never did find where the missing wrench went... ...lost twenty dollars, four cents, and a shirt that night..."
I love those beginnings. When I see them emerging, forming it's horrendous drama filled little smile in front of me, whispering in my ear, 'This will be fun' I shake my head, smile, and press forward ready for adventure and excitement.
I think back to my longer, more close to heart, relationships and I see that they all had very complicated beginnings. She just started dating another guy, I originally liked her cousin, we argued the first time we met about her origins, she wanted me when I wanted someone else, slit wrists over my lack of attention, and the list goes on to varying degrees of insanity and sweet hollywood-spun story lines. And theses are the people who have stood out, in my world of singular friends, existing only within singular moments. They are the moving pictures compared to the snapshots of friends. They are the rainy days squeezed between endless sunlight, memorable. They are the spelunkers to my soul compared to the other pond skimmers. They make me smile more brightly, feel more terribly sad, laugh more whole heartedly, cry stinging tears.
If you notice, that our relationship, friendship, companionship, started in highly irregular ways. You can be assured that, yeah, you are more than just a paragraph in my life. You are a chapter and if you stay long enough, learn how to get close enough, ask the right questions, hear the right things, you can be a book if you want to. It's not a requsite to becoming someone close to me, just that it seems to go hand in hand. Don't stray away because of the drama and chaos initially. I breathe chaos, let me breathe.
Encountering Complications,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Friday, March 27, 2009
Rubik's Girls
I love you, but not today. I want you, but tomorrow. I need you, but only yesterday. I want to be with you, but not right now. I want you here, but not here with me.
Oh you complicated girls. Break my heart, and sew up the seams. Turn me around, turn me back, turn me away, want me back. *smiles* I love it. Glutton for punishment, one of my six sins.
There's a fine line between confusing, and complicated. Complicated girls have this delicately beautiful persona that's hard to grasp and even more difficult to please. That's all part of the fun though. Working out the puzzle, solving the enigma. They are amusing to me. All the complicated emotions that spill forth from something as simple as a hug makes me smile, makes me interested, makes me attracted. Makes me want them more and more. Perhaps my mind needs a constantly steady stream of information to process, and perhaps I just have a general dislike for simple people.
Emotionally complicated. Ah. The best one and the main one I suppose. Not sure of their feelings, constanly changing moods like a drunk bi-polar (or rather with girls it's usually multi-polar). Highly amusing to me. Most girls, (simple ones) are just happy with flowers any day, but my girls, no not the case. One day it's hugs and smiles and flowers in a vase. The next day it's smashed vase against the wall behind me. Oh it's quite troublesome at the time to deal with the drama but in the end, the shifting moods makes me strive to figure out how to make them happy all the time. I'm not superman, I can't read minds but I think I can read people pretty well (superman can't read minds... why did I say that?). Even then, it's a difficult read and every time you look it's something new, something different. I think if I ever fully understood women, boredom would set in as surely as night after day. But luckily, there's you beautifully complicated women around to amuse me.
I just want to clarify that even though I say amuse, I don't want you to think I treat women like objects for amusment like a playstation. Rather, I highly respect women. With all the daily obstacles they overcome such as gender pressure to plain old wanting respect, I admire them. They are the strong, beautiful, elegant, more graceful half of the human race. They are complicated, smart, affectionate, caring and strong whereas most men are singly attributed. I may say amuse, but they are not objects of amusment to me singularly. Just wanted to clarify lest you find me a pig for my choice of words. Women should be respected and pedestaled in the grandeur they encompass.
Back to the topic at hand. I guess I should get into the opposing category now. Simple girls. Now this is where it gets interesting. Girls can start off as complicated on the forefront but become simple once I find out the reasons, the drive. Some people it's as simple as, living for my parents ideals. Psh. Next. These semi-interesting people hold my attention as long as a goldfish can remember. Once the puzzle is solved and the final turn on the rubiks cube is made, I look at the product with disinterest. I go through the motions like a pattern learned like a craftmen of tenure.
Babydoll, you now bore me, tell me something interesting.
Then on the same side of the specturm but just a shade too far left, there's the simple creatures with only primal instincts. God. Shopping, shoes, clothes, shoes, TV, sex, shopping.
*wide eyes* Uh so what do you think about abortion? What's your take on life? What do you think it means when coincidences happen? No answer or opinion huh? That's okay, I'll stare at the wall. That shade of white is quite interesting.
I'm an honest guy and I'll say whats on my mind. If you feel you need to drag it out then ask me with the pretext of "Honestly...". I'll speak my mind and it will be truthful but I pick and choose what I say. I don't lie, I just don't tell you everything. But know that everything I say or do generally serves a purpose, however random. I'm a little sneaky like that but never vicious motives. Why am I say that in this blog? Well, I'm just as complicated. *smiles* But wouldn't you like to know what my specific is. Have fun.
Amusingly Complicated,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Oh you complicated girls. Break my heart, and sew up the seams. Turn me around, turn me back, turn me away, want me back. *smiles* I love it. Glutton for punishment, one of my six sins.
There's a fine line between confusing, and complicated. Complicated girls have this delicately beautiful persona that's hard to grasp and even more difficult to please. That's all part of the fun though. Working out the puzzle, solving the enigma. They are amusing to me. All the complicated emotions that spill forth from something as simple as a hug makes me smile, makes me interested, makes me attracted. Makes me want them more and more. Perhaps my mind needs a constantly steady stream of information to process, and perhaps I just have a general dislike for simple people.
Emotionally complicated. Ah. The best one and the main one I suppose. Not sure of their feelings, constanly changing moods like a drunk bi-polar (or rather with girls it's usually multi-polar). Highly amusing to me. Most girls, (simple ones) are just happy with flowers any day, but my girls, no not the case. One day it's hugs and smiles and flowers in a vase. The next day it's smashed vase against the wall behind me. Oh it's quite troublesome at the time to deal with the drama but in the end, the shifting moods makes me strive to figure out how to make them happy all the time. I'm not superman, I can't read minds but I think I can read people pretty well (superman can't read minds... why did I say that?). Even then, it's a difficult read and every time you look it's something new, something different. I think if I ever fully understood women, boredom would set in as surely as night after day. But luckily, there's you beautifully complicated women around to amuse me.
I just want to clarify that even though I say amuse, I don't want you to think I treat women like objects for amusment like a playstation. Rather, I highly respect women. With all the daily obstacles they overcome such as gender pressure to plain old wanting respect, I admire them. They are the strong, beautiful, elegant, more graceful half of the human race. They are complicated, smart, affectionate, caring and strong whereas most men are singly attributed. I may say amuse, but they are not objects of amusment to me singularly. Just wanted to clarify lest you find me a pig for my choice of words. Women should be respected and pedestaled in the grandeur they encompass.
Back to the topic at hand. I guess I should get into the opposing category now. Simple girls. Now this is where it gets interesting. Girls can start off as complicated on the forefront but become simple once I find out the reasons, the drive. Some people it's as simple as, living for my parents ideals. Psh. Next. These semi-interesting people hold my attention as long as a goldfish can remember. Once the puzzle is solved and the final turn on the rubiks cube is made, I look at the product with disinterest. I go through the motions like a pattern learned like a craftmen of tenure.
Babydoll, you now bore me, tell me something interesting.
Then on the same side of the specturm but just a shade too far left, there's the simple creatures with only primal instincts. God. Shopping, shoes, clothes, shoes, TV, sex, shopping.
*wide eyes* Uh so what do you think about abortion? What's your take on life? What do you think it means when coincidences happen? No answer or opinion huh? That's okay, I'll stare at the wall. That shade of white is quite interesting.
I'm an honest guy and I'll say whats on my mind. If you feel you need to drag it out then ask me with the pretext of "Honestly...". I'll speak my mind and it will be truthful but I pick and choose what I say. I don't lie, I just don't tell you everything. But know that everything I say or do generally serves a purpose, however random. I'm a little sneaky like that but never vicious motives. Why am I say that in this blog? Well, I'm just as complicated. *smiles* But wouldn't you like to know what my specific is. Have fun.
Amusingly Complicated,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Want It From You
Sear my flesh let me burn
Come for more I never learn
Tearful eyes not your concern
Only more pain is what I earn
Only more pain is what I yearn
Make me scream make me bleed
Make me break fall to my knees
Keep my breath so I don't breathe
Turn your hand do as you please
Give me more you need to feed
Hurt me with no purpose
Go deep beyond the surface
Only because you're so perfect
My heart of hearts believes your worth it
My heart of hearts thinks me worthless
A broken heart and smile is more fit
Come for more I never learn
Tearful eyes not your concern
Only more pain is what I earn
Only more pain is what I yearn
Make me scream make me bleed
Make me break fall to my knees
Keep my breath so I don't breathe
Turn your hand do as you please
Give me more you need to feed
Hurt me with no purpose
Go deep beyond the surface
Only because you're so perfect
My heart of hearts believes your worth it
My heart of hearts thinks me worthless
A broken heart and smile is more fit
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Forgetting to Remember
Hmmm. What to do what to do. What to say what to think. Who knows.
Do you remember? You must. You can't have forgotten. It's just not possible. Some things in your life affect you so greatly but still you can forget. But yet there are things that will never flit off into the back corners of nothingness. Those unforgettable memories. Of those times. Those moments. That time. It's not something someone can really forget. They make you cry, laugh, smile, drink and drink endlessly deep into the night to solve the ever present insomnia cause by remembering. Don't tell me you forgot. You can't. I haven't. I can't.
But I'm okay with it.
I remember it and I'm okay with it. I agree with it I guess. I understand that life is a series of events surrounded by people. People come and go. Leave without a trace or leave with scars left behind. Those are memories. Not people. Shadows of people. Footsteps. You are like the sand and the longer they stood in you. The deeper they impacted, the more you remember.
But I'm okay with it.
May sound like I'm trying to convince myself. It does sound like that. Even to myself. But... I've never had to convince myself. Of anything. Of everything in this world, I'm only sure of myself. I'm sure. So sincerely sure. Incredulously sure, that no doubt can cross my mind that can't be shattered at first sight. I am me, I am I, I am what I am and will always will be. And therefore...
I will always remember. I wonder if you think of me. If you remember. If you don't, then of course, I shed no tears. I may stop smiles, lose sentences, but never stop breathing, never lose sleep. Slowly but surely, I think I will forget I remember. One day I'll forget to remember, and then in another day as equally unimportant, I'll remember that I forgot. And maybe I'll stop and think, I never really forgot, I just haven't thought.
Do you have something you remember? Something you forget you remember at times. Everyone does. Everyone.
Remembering To Forget,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Do you remember? You must. You can't have forgotten. It's just not possible. Some things in your life affect you so greatly but still you can forget. But yet there are things that will never flit off into the back corners of nothingness. Those unforgettable memories. Of those times. Those moments. That time. It's not something someone can really forget. They make you cry, laugh, smile, drink and drink endlessly deep into the night to solve the ever present insomnia cause by remembering. Don't tell me you forgot. You can't. I haven't. I can't.
But I'm okay with it.
I remember it and I'm okay with it. I agree with it I guess. I understand that life is a series of events surrounded by people. People come and go. Leave without a trace or leave with scars left behind. Those are memories. Not people. Shadows of people. Footsteps. You are like the sand and the longer they stood in you. The deeper they impacted, the more you remember.
But I'm okay with it.
May sound like I'm trying to convince myself. It does sound like that. Even to myself. But... I've never had to convince myself. Of anything. Of everything in this world, I'm only sure of myself. I'm sure. So sincerely sure. Incredulously sure, that no doubt can cross my mind that can't be shattered at first sight. I am me, I am I, I am what I am and will always will be. And therefore...
I will always remember. I wonder if you think of me. If you remember. If you don't, then of course, I shed no tears. I may stop smiles, lose sentences, but never stop breathing, never lose sleep. Slowly but surely, I think I will forget I remember. One day I'll forget to remember, and then in another day as equally unimportant, I'll remember that I forgot. And maybe I'll stop and think, I never really forgot, I just haven't thought.
Do you have something you remember? Something you forget you remember at times. Everyone does. Everyone.
Remembering To Forget,
ShadowlessTomorrow
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Feeling It
I wonder how many people know what Empathy means. It's like sympathy for sure. But there's a crucial element people seems to overlook. Empathy is putting yourself in there shoes. Being able to feel the sadness they feel. The despair. The joy. The happiness. Real Empathy is when you can feel it. Most people are not as sensitive to this. Most people can't feel anything at all. It's not that they are cold or emotionless. It's just that they just can't feel it just by sitting next to someone. It's not a terrible thing to not have. But it does help you relate to people. It's also not always such a good thing either...
I would like to think I have Real Empathy. I would like to think that i can feel people. I'm not always attune to it. My general optimism sometimes is so great it tends to block out other people. Like a cold winter and a small flame is trying to warm a room. But generally I'm pretty good at feeling other people. When someone is having a great day and grinning so wide inside I can feel it and it makes me smile outwardly. I just don't know why I feel good sometimes but I figure out it's because the one around me makes me feel good. I like that feeling. I like that I can just be happy when someone around me is happy. And my own aura is infectious as well. People tend to cheer up and smile when I'm around. So I'm truly happiest when I'm around someone. The auras reciprocating, feeding off each other, growing off each other with mutual benefit. But the inverse, is also true... I never really feel down or lost very often. And when in the valley I always find ways to climb out myself. But if my mood was murderously contempt then people pick up on it and stray away. This only happens rarely and when it does it's because I'm out of it enough that I can't pick myself up so quickly. But what if someone around me is down, out, stressed, tense etc. I feel it... I feel it too. And it will literally bring me down too. Maybe they don't mean to, maybe they just want to hang out with someone to try to get out of it. But I feel it and I start feeling down too. I guess that's good because I can relate but I don't like feeling like that and neither do they. So a great, happy, jolly ho-ho-ho cherry old fat man laugh day for me could sour in an instant when around the wrong mood. ow...
But remember, when I'm down I'm pretty good with bringing myself up again. Enough to smile at the least. So if I am feeling the same way they are, and I find a way to cheer up, then I find a way for them to cheer up. Knowing and understanding how they are feeling, yeah it helps. It helps when I help cheer someone up. Guess that's why some people come to me to cheer them up. The glass is half-full, waiting for more, ready for more. Always ready for more. Pour some in me. I can take it. And glad to. I'm happiest when I'm around someone who is happy.
I hope I don't lose this ability. I hope that maybe I could refine it. Make it more prevalent. Even if it means I'll have shitty bus rides, I'd rather feel shitty all of the time if I could help someone some of the time.
Half-full And Waiting,
Shadowlesstomorrow
I would like to think I have Real Empathy. I would like to think that i can feel people. I'm not always attune to it. My general optimism sometimes is so great it tends to block out other people. Like a cold winter and a small flame is trying to warm a room. But generally I'm pretty good at feeling other people. When someone is having a great day and grinning so wide inside I can feel it and it makes me smile outwardly. I just don't know why I feel good sometimes but I figure out it's because the one around me makes me feel good. I like that feeling. I like that I can just be happy when someone around me is happy. And my own aura is infectious as well. People tend to cheer up and smile when I'm around. So I'm truly happiest when I'm around someone. The auras reciprocating, feeding off each other, growing off each other with mutual benefit. But the inverse, is also true... I never really feel down or lost very often. And when in the valley I always find ways to climb out myself. But if my mood was murderously contempt then people pick up on it and stray away. This only happens rarely and when it does it's because I'm out of it enough that I can't pick myself up so quickly. But what if someone around me is down, out, stressed, tense etc. I feel it... I feel it too. And it will literally bring me down too. Maybe they don't mean to, maybe they just want to hang out with someone to try to get out of it. But I feel it and I start feeling down too. I guess that's good because I can relate but I don't like feeling like that and neither do they. So a great, happy, jolly ho-ho-ho cherry old fat man laugh day for me could sour in an instant when around the wrong mood. ow...
But remember, when I'm down I'm pretty good with bringing myself up again. Enough to smile at the least. So if I am feeling the same way they are, and I find a way to cheer up, then I find a way for them to cheer up. Knowing and understanding how they are feeling, yeah it helps. It helps when I help cheer someone up. Guess that's why some people come to me to cheer them up. The glass is half-full, waiting for more, ready for more. Always ready for more. Pour some in me. I can take it. And glad to. I'm happiest when I'm around someone who is happy.
I hope I don't lose this ability. I hope that maybe I could refine it. Make it more prevalent. Even if it means I'll have shitty bus rides, I'd rather feel shitty all of the time if I could help someone some of the time.
Half-full And Waiting,
Shadowlesstomorrow
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