the opposite of full = empty?
the opposite of celebration = askese?
the opposite of love = life?
the opposite of subjective freedom = objective freedom?
the opposite of celebration = askese?
and most importantly: do we have to decide?
or is it... seasonal?
like - winter's come and then they go?
maybe. i should go back to mama nature and learn my lesson once again.
and:
losing hope is when it goes wrong
i mean
it only is wrong when you lose hope
other than that....there is always a way out
what can they do?
kill me?
I know there is more than materie
Kill my soul?
they can't.
trust me.
losing hope?
my backbone is filled with hope
BUT. breaking my heart only you can do
and maybe I will
and that will be the icing on the cake of shattered dreams
and disillusioned strength within
ah
Ah...
!? who can break the lark's song when she rises into the wide space above so wide and so blue - resisting any logical reasoning on how much energy would be efficient to use despite the song despite the song despite the song the song the song
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
lovely time or timely love
well the yesterday came back to haunt me.
the minutes, crashing into each other while people talk on cellphones in internetcafes and we all share the problems, and then, the minutes get so dense and tense like thunderstorm clouds gathering at the horizon that we think that yesterday comes back, laughing, in the clothes of a tomorrow, that has turned its back on us.
the really cool ones, they don't say it, but they know, are those who don't care. because cool is cold, and who knows better how to survive the heat of overthinking brain-engines than cool freezers?! ah, but, i tell you that the fire will catch up with each one of us one day
as many minutes that we let crush into each other we will pay back later in fine, ironed, smooth, perfect minutes of suffering. love! love is not changing anything, haha, the thunderstorm laughs cynically and yesterday with all its crushed minutes jumps on our head like you jump on boxes. yesterday and tomorrow are friends but not with the fresh mornings. the morning belongs to the sun...
to the different light
the light, that shines inbetween, when nobody looks, and it is different, like a early summer morning in Rome, inbetween earthy colored houses that tell stories of fucking history, not yesterday of our petty little lives, no , keys, works, schools, faded out people, killed ones, loved ones in the routine of the running wheels of time.
but then
love?
you hear a blackbird singing because you have been out all night, your mind clouded, like yesterday clouds with numbing alcohol clouds that sooth the sorrow and the fire and the cool and everything. glasses, they say. so you come home and accidentally hear a blackbird sing
love? ah!!! doesn't change anything? no. the bells still ring. and when you ran down this hill, freely, loudly, happily, you will go back to the same old doors and same old keys and the same old sun.
but the light inbetween, says the blackbird, maybe i should ask again, is like love. it sheds a different life and light on everything. ha. like construction workers sitting on the construction scaffolds (the wooden stuff that they build around the house to get up there) with their first cigarette in the morning look different and so heart breakingly beautiful in this inbetween light although their work is hard and maybe their lives difficult.
maybe someone divorced. maybe someones kid is sick. maybe someone drinks alcohol for all the salary and his wife is bitter and no sex or love. but
in this light ...
that s like love says the blackbird, maybe i should as again, maybe i didn't understand.
it doesn't change anything says the thunderstorm crushed minute yesterday that pretends to be tomorrow too and if it is very successful it will tell you too, that it is the NOW as well. haha! but it didn't see that that's the point.
the same old routine in the light of love unfolds its beauty
now
never later, when you look again
the minutes, crashing into each other while people talk on cellphones in internetcafes and we all share the problems, and then, the minutes get so dense and tense like thunderstorm clouds gathering at the horizon that we think that yesterday comes back, laughing, in the clothes of a tomorrow, that has turned its back on us.
the really cool ones, they don't say it, but they know, are those who don't care. because cool is cold, and who knows better how to survive the heat of overthinking brain-engines than cool freezers?! ah, but, i tell you that the fire will catch up with each one of us one day
as many minutes that we let crush into each other we will pay back later in fine, ironed, smooth, perfect minutes of suffering. love! love is not changing anything, haha, the thunderstorm laughs cynically and yesterday with all its crushed minutes jumps on our head like you jump on boxes. yesterday and tomorrow are friends but not with the fresh mornings. the morning belongs to the sun...
to the different light
the light, that shines inbetween, when nobody looks, and it is different, like a early summer morning in Rome, inbetween earthy colored houses that tell stories of fucking history, not yesterday of our petty little lives, no , keys, works, schools, faded out people, killed ones, loved ones in the routine of the running wheels of time.
but then
love?
you hear a blackbird singing because you have been out all night, your mind clouded, like yesterday clouds with numbing alcohol clouds that sooth the sorrow and the fire and the cool and everything. glasses, they say. so you come home and accidentally hear a blackbird sing
love? ah!!! doesn't change anything? no. the bells still ring. and when you ran down this hill, freely, loudly, happily, you will go back to the same old doors and same old keys and the same old sun.
but the light inbetween, says the blackbird, maybe i should ask again, is like love. it sheds a different life and light on everything. ha. like construction workers sitting on the construction scaffolds (the wooden stuff that they build around the house to get up there) with their first cigarette in the morning look different and so heart breakingly beautiful in this inbetween light although their work is hard and maybe their lives difficult.
maybe someone divorced. maybe someones kid is sick. maybe someone drinks alcohol for all the salary and his wife is bitter and no sex or love. but
in this light ...
that s like love says the blackbird, maybe i should as again, maybe i didn't understand.
it doesn't change anything says the thunderstorm crushed minute yesterday that pretends to be tomorrow too and if it is very successful it will tell you too, that it is the NOW as well. haha! but it didn't see that that's the point.
the same old routine in the light of love unfolds its beauty
now
never later, when you look again
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
temptations of talent
whispers in thin air, talents, promisingly beckoning from behind the horizon: we fear.
it's not so much the talent but the 95% work that we are scared off, I think. 5% talent they say, the rest is effort, work, excercise.
love, so often falsely interpreted, is not worth to invest in, if it wouldn't underlie the same structural patterns: 5% love, the rest is working it...
temptations of talent delude me into semi-awake afternoons, spent on the carpet, dreaming into the green-blue sunkissed sky. temptations of love make us revolve to the petty half-baked human beings we once used to be, when still lingering in the safety (if there was any) of ever accepting bonds of blood.
one day, sings the bird, how cheesy but true, the bonds of love will overcome those of blood and create new fresh growing my dear, inside the soul.
that is, if you are willing to comply to the 5/95 % rules.
AH!
while you are gone I indulge again in finding out what I think by writing words, one after the other in a sunny afternoon.
My eyes are so tired. Vision blurred, but, says the little prince, one sees clearly only with the heart. There you are, then, in the distance and inbetween there is longing fires, soothing love, uplifting tenderness and apprehension mingled and messed up like in a gordic knot.
meanwhile life goes on and myspace addicts try to find their way through the freeways of interconnected superficialities and the farce of messages that you won't remember when death calls your name in the dark hours of the night.
There you are, then, my heart sees you clearly. All the arguments and fierce emotions dwindle away, blurred by insignificance and what remains is:
Your Smile
Love
it's not so much the talent but the 95% work that we are scared off, I think. 5% talent they say, the rest is effort, work, excercise.
love, so often falsely interpreted, is not worth to invest in, if it wouldn't underlie the same structural patterns: 5% love, the rest is working it...
temptations of talent delude me into semi-awake afternoons, spent on the carpet, dreaming into the green-blue sunkissed sky. temptations of love make us revolve to the petty half-baked human beings we once used to be, when still lingering in the safety (if there was any) of ever accepting bonds of blood.
one day, sings the bird, how cheesy but true, the bonds of love will overcome those of blood and create new fresh growing my dear, inside the soul.
that is, if you are willing to comply to the 5/95 % rules.
AH!
while you are gone I indulge again in finding out what I think by writing words, one after the other in a sunny afternoon.
My eyes are so tired. Vision blurred, but, says the little prince, one sees clearly only with the heart. There you are, then, in the distance and inbetween there is longing fires, soothing love, uplifting tenderness and apprehension mingled and messed up like in a gordic knot.
meanwhile life goes on and myspace addicts try to find their way through the freeways of interconnected superficialities and the farce of messages that you won't remember when death calls your name in the dark hours of the night.
There you are, then, my heart sees you clearly. All the arguments and fierce emotions dwindle away, blurred by insignificance and what remains is:
Your Smile
Love
Thursday, May 25, 2006
missionary
it s funny they called me the missionary
because I am if at all, a missionaire of the seeking
I love it though to see your face in ecxtasy, out of control when you come over me; missionary, too, again. excuse the comparison.
it sure is difficult when a seeker and a founder clash in love
because I am if at all, a missionaire of the seeking
I love it though to see your face in ecxtasy, out of control when you come over me; missionary, too, again. excuse the comparison.
it sure is difficult when a seeker and a founder clash in love
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
yesterday night
my love stood in the doorway, all of the sudden, a knock, I opened, there he was.
My heart jumped in, immediately, racing like crazy.
However, our sweet minutes were bittered by yet another argument about what would happen in case I'd be pregnant. It pisses me off so much, that I can't even write about it right now. Well, well. If I had an abortion, I would leave. And never see him again. That might sound harsh but it's the only way I could deal with it.
Anyways, we somehow also started talking about religion, again, - first it was about reading palms and faces, which is widely believed to be a gypsy thing, which he, as a gypsy wildly rejects. However, I've studied quite a bit the science of physignomy back in the days, when I was doing my project on portrait painting and tried to explain to him why I think that doesn't have to be witchcraft. I don't think that there is ANYTHING wrong with spirit/soul expressing itself in matter. I believe, that there is a form language that everybody understands and everybody can be deluded with it, too. I guess we were talking two different topics in the end...
So whatever, all this leads to belief and therefore religion, too. And he starts talking again about how the only thing that saved him for real, was finding his way to God and Jesus Christ. I am not going to mock that in any way, as I am Christian myself, but open to any other religion as well, other than him I haven't had the opportunity yet to study the other big religions too. It really is a very sensitive topic and I was very surprised when he started talking about his doing heroine, in front of my friend whom I'm living with. I thought he never told anybody anything about that. Well, well.
I was thinking about it today in the morning again and I felt very weird about it. My lover was doing heroine and he was at the very bottom and the very end of his rope. And he is only 20 years old. I'm infintely happy and grateful that he didn't die. That he got out of this vicious circle. I just hope that the religion thing will never get inbetween us. I don't know yet where really my path lies and I can't, as much as I love him, just rely on his opinon in that matter. It is highly individual, as far as I am concerned. Everybody has to find their own way...
And I thank God for it too. And I pray for him and everybody else, too.
My heart jumped in, immediately, racing like crazy.
However, our sweet minutes were bittered by yet another argument about what would happen in case I'd be pregnant. It pisses me off so much, that I can't even write about it right now. Well, well. If I had an abortion, I would leave. And never see him again. That might sound harsh but it's the only way I could deal with it.
Anyways, we somehow also started talking about religion, again, - first it was about reading palms and faces, which is widely believed to be a gypsy thing, which he, as a gypsy wildly rejects. However, I've studied quite a bit the science of physignomy back in the days, when I was doing my project on portrait painting and tried to explain to him why I think that doesn't have to be witchcraft. I don't think that there is ANYTHING wrong with spirit/soul expressing itself in matter. I believe, that there is a form language that everybody understands and everybody can be deluded with it, too. I guess we were talking two different topics in the end...
So whatever, all this leads to belief and therefore religion, too. And he starts talking again about how the only thing that saved him for real, was finding his way to God and Jesus Christ. I am not going to mock that in any way, as I am Christian myself, but open to any other religion as well, other than him I haven't had the opportunity yet to study the other big religions too. It really is a very sensitive topic and I was very surprised when he started talking about his doing heroine, in front of my friend whom I'm living with. I thought he never told anybody anything about that. Well, well.
I was thinking about it today in the morning again and I felt very weird about it. My lover was doing heroine and he was at the very bottom and the very end of his rope. And he is only 20 years old. I'm infintely happy and grateful that he didn't die. That he got out of this vicious circle. I just hope that the religion thing will never get inbetween us. I don't know yet where really my path lies and I can't, as much as I love him, just rely on his opinon in that matter. It is highly individual, as far as I am concerned. Everybody has to find their own way...
And I thank God for it too. And I pray for him and everybody else, too.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
secretary
I have a diploma as a manager secretary since 2004. Haven't work as one though...
Watched 'The Secretary' today.
Made me think.
Submissive/Dominant.
I am usually described as a dominant person, I have always been in leading positions (school, youthgroups, even as kids, playing 'Western' or 'Orphans'). Rejected guys that I was in love with throughout my adolescent years.
However, I felt I was too tolerant in a way. I wasn't dominant at all once I wanted him. He had been in love with me for such a long time but then just gave up. Who can blame him. I blamed the drugs. And always wondered whether I should have been somehow more dominant, demanding, or whatever, to save him. But, matter of fact, I wasn't.
Then I met Mr. Asshole.
Tall, black, asshole. Very charming in his own way. I was infatuated with him for a whole year, saw him three or four times during this year and basically held contact by writing and fighting with him via emails and phone.
Gosh, he was such a jerk.
But there was something that really astonished me: I seemed not to be myself anymore. I thought, well, that's maybe how I am when I am with a man because I hadn't had any relationship experience before that and I can't really count this either a relationship experience... But whatever.
I was so.... shy, so wanting him to be happy first, - we argued a lot, and it was fun! but other than that I was generally very submissive and eager to please him. For his credit it has to be said, that he, although being a complete jerk, did not take advantage of this situation, I still was a virgin and had this thing that I wanted to remain such until I was 21 and he completely respected that. But then again, when a guy can get head ...
anyways. When I got together with my ex in the big city I found, to my surprise, that this time I was the jerk. It really disappointed me in a way. I mean, I was still cute and sweet and all those things that people are very quick to say about me (to my disappointment though. who wouldn't want to be 'gorgeous, hot and sexy' instead of 'cute and sweet'??!!) but he was so good to me, such a nice Gentleman, so ready to adjust to whatever I presented to him that I somehow couldn't deal with that. I became the jerk. What a shame. Our first time sex was kind of very interesting too. I wanted him to be on top but he convinced me to be on top and I didn't like it. Not, that I dislike it in general, but I just think, that it was kind of very symbollically speaking for us...
And now, as I look at my relationship with my Love, I realize that I actually really LIKE it, when a man takes over. I like it when he tells me what to do, I am, again, very eager to make him feel good and happy, I still argue a lot and can bring my points across....but if he wouldn't be like that, I couldn't be with him. I am emancipated but I love being a woman in THAT sense.
Watched 'The Secretary' today.
Made me think.
Submissive/Dominant.
I am usually described as a dominant person, I have always been in leading positions (school, youthgroups, even as kids, playing 'Western' or 'Orphans'). Rejected guys that I was in love with throughout my adolescent years.
However, I felt I was too tolerant in a way. I wasn't dominant at all once I wanted him. He had been in love with me for such a long time but then just gave up. Who can blame him. I blamed the drugs. And always wondered whether I should have been somehow more dominant, demanding, or whatever, to save him. But, matter of fact, I wasn't.
Then I met Mr. Asshole.
Tall, black, asshole. Very charming in his own way. I was infatuated with him for a whole year, saw him three or four times during this year and basically held contact by writing and fighting with him via emails and phone.
Gosh, he was such a jerk.
But there was something that really astonished me: I seemed not to be myself anymore. I thought, well, that's maybe how I am when I am with a man because I hadn't had any relationship experience before that and I can't really count this either a relationship experience... But whatever.
I was so.... shy, so wanting him to be happy first, - we argued a lot, and it was fun! but other than that I was generally very submissive and eager to please him. For his credit it has to be said, that he, although being a complete jerk, did not take advantage of this situation, I still was a virgin and had this thing that I wanted to remain such until I was 21 and he completely respected that. But then again, when a guy can get head ...
anyways. When I got together with my ex in the big city I found, to my surprise, that this time I was the jerk. It really disappointed me in a way. I mean, I was still cute and sweet and all those things that people are very quick to say about me (to my disappointment though. who wouldn't want to be 'gorgeous, hot and sexy' instead of 'cute and sweet'??!!) but he was so good to me, such a nice Gentleman, so ready to adjust to whatever I presented to him that I somehow couldn't deal with that. I became the jerk. What a shame. Our first time sex was kind of very interesting too. I wanted him to be on top but he convinced me to be on top and I didn't like it. Not, that I dislike it in general, but I just think, that it was kind of very symbollically speaking for us...
And now, as I look at my relationship with my Love, I realize that I actually really LIKE it, when a man takes over. I like it when he tells me what to do, I am, again, very eager to make him feel good and happy, I still argue a lot and can bring my points across....but if he wouldn't be like that, I couldn't be with him. I am emancipated but I love being a woman in THAT sense.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
bladder infections and quiet hours of remembering what it was all about
oh how bad it hurts, you all know, you who had bladder infections before.
the thing is... physical pain beams you right back to earth. physical pain, for some reason, is so less ignorable than emotional or spiritual pain. the emptiness of a mind, the stabbing of the soul can all be covered up by physical activity. Drink yourself consciousless. Watch TV. Eat. Have sex. do something, go jogging. Don't think. Don't ask. Try to make your heart indifferent...
Ah but physical pain is so there.
So I sit down, drink tons of water and cranberry juice, all warm and packed into tons of blankets, starting to read. finally.
On love. 'Nature of love' by Andrew Dib Sherfan, on Kahlil Gibran's love as it appears in his writings.
I dive into it and forget the world and the pain around me. Except for when I have to use the bathroom. Damn those bakteria. I freaking knew that I am inclined to bladder infections and that I always, always should use the bathroom after sweet love making. But sometimes, at times....It is so mindblowlingly exhausting that I can just lay there and look at the sky ot the ceiling or his face and then dream away...
But love.
Universal love, that breaks the walls we build, that exceeds the limited love we force upon us by condemning our heart to only love our children and lovers and family and friends, universal love is what it is all about
many tears I cried and many dreams I dreamt to finally reach out
I remember
but no tears today.
Now it will be about action
the thing is... physical pain beams you right back to earth. physical pain, for some reason, is so less ignorable than emotional or spiritual pain. the emptiness of a mind, the stabbing of the soul can all be covered up by physical activity. Drink yourself consciousless. Watch TV. Eat. Have sex. do something, go jogging. Don't think. Don't ask. Try to make your heart indifferent...
Ah but physical pain is so there.
So I sit down, drink tons of water and cranberry juice, all warm and packed into tons of blankets, starting to read. finally.
On love. 'Nature of love' by Andrew Dib Sherfan, on Kahlil Gibran's love as it appears in his writings.
I dive into it and forget the world and the pain around me. Except for when I have to use the bathroom. Damn those bakteria. I freaking knew that I am inclined to bladder infections and that I always, always should use the bathroom after sweet love making. But sometimes, at times....It is so mindblowlingly exhausting that I can just lay there and look at the sky ot the ceiling or his face and then dream away...
But love.
Universal love, that breaks the walls we build, that exceeds the limited love we force upon us by condemning our heart to only love our children and lovers and family and friends, universal love is what it is all about
many tears I cried and many dreams I dreamt to finally reach out
I remember
but no tears today.
Now it will be about action
Friday, May 19, 2006
The other life
There is this other life
And it is waiting for me
I can't fall into this trap
of love
Ah I see your sad eyes right in front of me
A trap you call that, disappointed voice
Ah, don't get me wrong,
it is good
it is all good
it is oh so good
But I feel this pull to a life
that sits in my head
and screams and wants to get out
A life, single, alone, again.
Inspired by Leonard Cohen, by Bob Dylan, by all those artists that make me wanna run away
And all they sing, too, is that love is all that matters.
Now in this state of confusion I beg you to venture
Be my lover
And hold me tight.
Don't let me run away.
But let me live there, for a while, my own stupid life. Drinking coffee and wine and puffing cigarettes.
Ah wait
That life was never for me
And it is waiting for me
I can't fall into this trap
of love
Ah I see your sad eyes right in front of me
A trap you call that, disappointed voice
Ah, don't get me wrong,
it is good
it is all good
it is oh so good
But I feel this pull to a life
that sits in my head
and screams and wants to get out
A life, single, alone, again.
Inspired by Leonard Cohen, by Bob Dylan, by all those artists that make me wanna run away
And all they sing, too, is that love is all that matters.
Now in this state of confusion I beg you to venture
Be my lover
And hold me tight.
Don't let me run away.
But let me live there, for a while, my own stupid life. Drinking coffee and wine and puffing cigarettes.
Ah wait
That life was never for me
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Foggy afternoons
The hills are dressed in semipermeable fogg veils, the green of my beloved trees looks mysterious now and dark and melancholic - as if from another world...
I pack up my mind and disappear into my dream world, ah I can't deny, I've lived a double life, one here, rough-and-ready, the other one in my imagination, in my longings and dreams. A genuine child born under the star sign of the ever-dreaming and idealistic piscies...
And as I am listening to Noir Desir emotions and thoughts mingle and swirl me into a weird state of mind: I miss my sister, i am upset that she deleted my email without responding, I miss her children, I miss her respect, I miss her recognition, I miss the opportunities I had to prove myself worthy to her, I miss being fit and always on the top of things, taking advantage of every which situation that presented itself to me the last past 7 months in the city of Angels, I miss a person that I am NOT. apparently.
Ah, acceptance.
That's me, in the corner, that's me, dreaming away. And who says, that a dreamy life can't be as beautiful as any other? Hm. Maybe I just don't know and that's why I don't bother.
Such a bliss, to be ignorant. The foolish and the children are blessed by gods mercy.
--------------
Information drips into my conscience: my love, called, he might have to go to jail.
Shadows of the past looming in the air, like a mirage in the heat of the Sahara...Lurking around the corner, always threatening, always seeming to grasp our souls and scare us to death.
And the worst death is the one that occurs before your body dies. When your soul or your mind rots away, caught up in the skeleton of time and guilt and self-pitiying regrets.
See, my love, this will not happen to us. I remained calm. No reason to get excited. No reason to freak out. This is LIFE. Nobody said it would be easy nor perfect. If you go to jail I hope with all my heart that it won't be for long or that people won't rape you in the butt when you bend over to get the soap...But, I won't freak out. I won't leave you in the lurch, I won't abandon you ever over something like that. Only over my dying heart.
To be honest, I can't freak out over something like that, I can take way more. WAY MORE. That's karma baby. That's justice. And if it doesn't happen this way it will happen another way.
Pray, pray, excercise forgiveness and you will be forgiven.
Pray my love, and I will pray for thee.
I remember how my dad told me once, long ago, that I shouldn't worry about not being devastated over the fact that really good friends of ours got a divorce. My sister cried and cried and I got worried, whether maybe I am cold hearted...
And he said: No, Emeralda, you are built to take WAY MORE.
And Lord, it is WAY MORE when your lover is about to be taken to jail. It makes me wonder. How I could remain that calm. I hope he doesn't think I don't care. I care with all my heart. I will pray with all my heart. I will take care of him , I will do everything to get him out there and all that. But I won't freak out. I take life, as it comes.
I pack up my mind and disappear into my dream world, ah I can't deny, I've lived a double life, one here, rough-and-ready, the other one in my imagination, in my longings and dreams. A genuine child born under the star sign of the ever-dreaming and idealistic piscies...
And as I am listening to Noir Desir emotions and thoughts mingle and swirl me into a weird state of mind: I miss my sister, i am upset that she deleted my email without responding, I miss her children, I miss her respect, I miss her recognition, I miss the opportunities I had to prove myself worthy to her, I miss being fit and always on the top of things, taking advantage of every which situation that presented itself to me the last past 7 months in the city of Angels, I miss a person that I am NOT. apparently.
Ah, acceptance.
That's me, in the corner, that's me, dreaming away. And who says, that a dreamy life can't be as beautiful as any other? Hm. Maybe I just don't know and that's why I don't bother.
Such a bliss, to be ignorant. The foolish and the children are blessed by gods mercy.
--------------
Information drips into my conscience: my love, called, he might have to go to jail.
Shadows of the past looming in the air, like a mirage in the heat of the Sahara...Lurking around the corner, always threatening, always seeming to grasp our souls and scare us to death.
And the worst death is the one that occurs before your body dies. When your soul or your mind rots away, caught up in the skeleton of time and guilt and self-pitiying regrets.
See, my love, this will not happen to us. I remained calm. No reason to get excited. No reason to freak out. This is LIFE. Nobody said it would be easy nor perfect. If you go to jail I hope with all my heart that it won't be for long or that people won't rape you in the butt when you bend over to get the soap...But, I won't freak out. I won't leave you in the lurch, I won't abandon you ever over something like that. Only over my dying heart.
To be honest, I can't freak out over something like that, I can take way more. WAY MORE. That's karma baby. That's justice. And if it doesn't happen this way it will happen another way.
Pray, pray, excercise forgiveness and you will be forgiven.
Pray my love, and I will pray for thee.
I remember how my dad told me once, long ago, that I shouldn't worry about not being devastated over the fact that really good friends of ours got a divorce. My sister cried and cried and I got worried, whether maybe I am cold hearted...
And he said: No, Emeralda, you are built to take WAY MORE.
And Lord, it is WAY MORE when your lover is about to be taken to jail. It makes me wonder. How I could remain that calm. I hope he doesn't think I don't care. I care with all my heart. I will pray with all my heart. I will take care of him , I will do everything to get him out there and all that. But I won't freak out. I take life, as it comes.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
the inbetweens
inbetween
there is the wind and no matter how strong it blows it blows my mind
the emptiness of my destiny allows for creativity, yet unknown
the morning is happy ever after
but time rushes
and doesn't really care
ah the freespirited ones call my name
i don't know exactly what the appropriate response would be
but maybe i will just dance
dance
without regarding the staring scornful eyes
of those who don't
there is the wind and no matter how strong it blows it blows my mind
the emptiness of my destiny allows for creativity, yet unknown
the morning is happy ever after
but time rushes
and doesn't really care
ah the freespirited ones call my name
i don't know exactly what the appropriate response would be
but maybe i will just dance
dance
without regarding the staring scornful eyes
of those who don't
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
the self absorbed inner disbeliever
i can't believe it
i can't believe it
i can't believe it
i can't believe it
i can't believe
that you love me so
exclusively
so
decidedly
so..
eternally
the inner disbeliever sucks all energy and confidence out of my body
I drown in long gone emotions that tear me apart and weigh my heart to the ground
i am so ugly
i am so ugly
i am so ugly
i am so
stupid. so.... unfun....so......uncharismatic....so not....like those.....magical, beautiful, inspiring, adorabel, mindblowing, firey fairytale creatures that i see...
and know you see too
and it makes me sick to my stummick
and it makes me angry and ugly
and unfun
and uncharismatic
and so
ordinarily ill tempered
to
listen to this disbeliever
Death penalty in this case would be appropriate
i can't believe it
i can't believe it
i can't believe it
i can't believe
that you love me so
exclusively
so
decidedly
so..
eternally
the inner disbeliever sucks all energy and confidence out of my body
I drown in long gone emotions that tear me apart and weigh my heart to the ground
i am so ugly
i am so ugly
i am so ugly
i am so
stupid. so.... unfun....so......uncharismatic....so not....like those.....magical, beautiful, inspiring, adorabel, mindblowing, firey fairytale creatures that i see...
and know you see too
and it makes me sick to my stummick
and it makes me angry and ugly
and unfun
and uncharismatic
and so
ordinarily ill tempered
to
listen to this disbeliever
Death penalty in this case would be appropriate
the self absorbed inner disbeliever
i can't believe it
i can't believe it
i can't believe it
i can't believe it
i can't believe
that you love me so
exclusively
so
decidedly
so..
eternally
the inner disbeliever sucks all energy and confidence out of my body
I drown in long gone emotions that tear me apart and weigh my heart to the ground
i am so ugly
i am so ugly
i am so ugly
i am so
stupid. so.... unfun....so......uncharismatic....so not....like those.....magical, beautiful, inspiring, adorabel, mindblowing, firey fairytale creatures that i see...
and know you see too
and it makes me sick to my stummick
and it makes me angry and ugly
and unfun
and uncharismatic
and so
ordinarily ill tempered
to
listen to this disbeliever
Death penalty in this case would be appropriate
i can't believe it
i can't believe it
i can't believe it
i can't believe
that you love me so
exclusively
so
decidedly
so..
eternally
the inner disbeliever sucks all energy and confidence out of my body
I drown in long gone emotions that tear me apart and weigh my heart to the ground
i am so ugly
i am so ugly
i am so ugly
i am so
stupid. so.... unfun....so......uncharismatic....so not....like those.....magical, beautiful, inspiring, adorabel, mindblowing, firey fairytale creatures that i see...
and know you see too
and it makes me sick to my stummick
and it makes me angry and ugly
and unfun
and uncharismatic
and so
ordinarily ill tempered
to
listen to this disbeliever
Death penalty in this case would be appropriate
Monday, May 15, 2006
terribly in love
I can't believe that I am so much in love
it throws me into depths that I haven't even dreamed of
and in shallow waters that make me dream of drowning
and it sometimes i am so terribly in love
that i don't know what to do about it
I don't know
I don't know
I don't know
I get stupid sometimes, and am afraid he would not come back
and wasn't serious about his words
and his eyes
and his heart
..
it throws me into depths that I haven't even dreamed of
and in shallow waters that make me dream of drowning
and it sometimes i am so terribly in love
that i don't know what to do about it
I don't know
I don't know
I don't know
I get stupid sometimes, and am afraid he would not come back
and wasn't serious about his words
and his eyes
and his heart
..
silky nights drenched in vinegar
it is all ah so perfect
the night is breezy warm
the noisy city distant like dreams
that are safely banned
the room is lit and cosy
this is
our universe
there you sigh and moan and cum all over me
there you light one thousand and one suns inside of me
there you press your lips on mine
and i feel like I am in heaven
because I like you
so much
yet, there is this sting
it should be removed carefully
like you do it when a bee stings you
you suck the poison out
suck it out
suck the poison out of my mind
the deafening thoughts that cloud my soul
the threatening worries that weigh me down
past that didn't concern me
knocks on my door
I welcome it first
and then get angry like a girl
worries of beauty
I am not worthy
What if I lose you
What if you play me
I am so butter
in your
hands
the night is breezy warm
the noisy city distant like dreams
that are safely banned
the room is lit and cosy
this is
our universe
there you sigh and moan and cum all over me
there you light one thousand and one suns inside of me
there you press your lips on mine
and i feel like I am in heaven
because I like you
so much
yet, there is this sting
it should be removed carefully
like you do it when a bee stings you
you suck the poison out
suck it out
suck the poison out of my mind
the deafening thoughts that cloud my soul
the threatening worries that weigh me down
past that didn't concern me
knocks on my door
I welcome it first
and then get angry like a girl
worries of beauty
I am not worthy
What if I lose you
What if you play me
I am so butter
in your
hands
Sunday, May 14, 2006
passwords
dude i just forgot my freaking sign in name lol.
ok but now i am back in here.
one thing about hollywood that is really weird is that people always seem to have to boast about or trade famous people they know in conversations.
then they say, you know, we don't care about the whole business
and in the first sentences they asked you whether you, too, are in 'the business'
well.
i m lucky i can always shoot back with people I know but it is so fucking pathetic sometimes i just smile and dream away
then they say, but you know, such and such doesn't like when we mention their name, they are very modest and don't want any of this bullshit.
dah.
but you had to mention it to a stranger on the street.
please
and your marihuana drenched breath sucks too. grow up dude. and your photographs suck too!!! my brother in law takes better photos and he is not a so called professional
in the end, i assume, it s ALWAYS about connections.
who you know
and that s why
ok but now i am back in here.
one thing about hollywood that is really weird is that people always seem to have to boast about or trade famous people they know in conversations.
then they say, you know, we don't care about the whole business
and in the first sentences they asked you whether you, too, are in 'the business'
well.
i m lucky i can always shoot back with people I know but it is so fucking pathetic sometimes i just smile and dream away
then they say, but you know, such and such doesn't like when we mention their name, they are very modest and don't want any of this bullshit.
dah.
but you had to mention it to a stranger on the street.
please
and your marihuana drenched breath sucks too. grow up dude. and your photographs suck too!!! my brother in law takes better photos and he is not a so called professional
in the end, i assume, it s ALWAYS about connections.
who you know
and that s why
Saturday, May 13, 2006
singing birds
ah encaged
the bird no longer was engaged
and lost its will to live
it s love to die
apathically
stopped to express
joy
mocked upon
childishly in awe
not any longer it was
sometimes a melody
slipped
dreams overwhelmed
swept it off its feet
though wings no longer
carried the singer
lonely falling
stumbeling
cut
the bird no longer was engaged
and lost its will to live
it s love to die
apathically
stopped to express
joy
mocked upon
childishly in awe
not any longer it was
sometimes a melody
slipped
dreams overwhelmed
swept it off its feet
though wings no longer
carried the singer
lonely falling
stumbeling
cut
strange what desire can make foolish people do
strange what desire can make foolish people do
I have a friend who got married, after a year filed for divorce and just move in again with his now again wife.
Over the course of our friendship I heard every single explanation from him as to why he shouldn't and couldn't be with her.
And now they are moving back together.
Strange, what desire...
Or is it love?
I couldn't decide, and, it is not up to me to decide.
Look into your own heart, the voice whispers.. Strange sounds surround us. Voices. Dreams, Opportunities, Convictions, Expectations, Principals, Ideals, Realities, Necessities, Demands, Pressures...
Ah, sometimes my soul spreads its wings and wants to fly into the warm summer night.
Polar light.
Deserts.
Sounds,
Smiles.
Tears,
Voices.
Stories.
Yet to be discovered by my self.
Ah. can I go with you?
Can you let me go?
And can you let me return?
Like all trees do?
A guitar from far away.
A bird outside in the middle of a big city.
Sounds of the night, noises of the city.
A heart beat.
So fiercly and passionately tied to your soul.
Can I go on and meet my destiny?
Or is this the road I choose to follow love?
Ah, I understand you, but my life, is intrinsically and intractable connected with love. every way. any way. al ways.
Love, my love. i am calling.
Is this a desert walk?
let me drink from your fresh wells
let me feel the bliss of your breathe soothing my heated face
let me feel your words trembling in my body
let me feel your hands trustfully releasing my soul
my love
let me be
and return
and leave space
that i can fill with love
thats what you do thats what you do thats what you do thats what you do
I m so scared that I could get lost.
I have a friend who got married, after a year filed for divorce and just move in again with his now again wife.
Over the course of our friendship I heard every single explanation from him as to why he shouldn't and couldn't be with her.
And now they are moving back together.
Strange, what desire...
Or is it love?
I couldn't decide, and, it is not up to me to decide.
Look into your own heart, the voice whispers.. Strange sounds surround us. Voices. Dreams, Opportunities, Convictions, Expectations, Principals, Ideals, Realities, Necessities, Demands, Pressures...
Ah, sometimes my soul spreads its wings and wants to fly into the warm summer night.
Polar light.
Deserts.
Sounds,
Smiles.
Tears,
Voices.
Stories.
Yet to be discovered by my self.
Ah. can I go with you?
Can you let me go?
And can you let me return?
Like all trees do?
A guitar from far away.
A bird outside in the middle of a big city.
Sounds of the night, noises of the city.
A heart beat.
So fiercly and passionately tied to your soul.
Can I go on and meet my destiny?
Or is this the road I choose to follow love?
Ah, I understand you, but my life, is intrinsically and intractable connected with love. every way. any way. al ways.
Love, my love. i am calling.
Is this a desert walk?
let me drink from your fresh wells
let me feel the bliss of your breathe soothing my heated face
let me feel your words trembling in my body
let me feel your hands trustfully releasing my soul
my love
let me be
and return
and leave space
that i can fill with love
thats what you do thats what you do thats what you do thats what you do
I m so scared that I could get lost.
lost songs
the sun is pouring into the room with a vengeance I have rarely known in my life. sun, sun, I beg you to shine, sun sun, lover mine.
echoes from childhood days, distant memories from the girl I have once been driving the bike, singing into a threatening black thunderstorm sky, south France, so courageous...I didn't understand one word and yet lived with this family for one month. Children... And the tree was such a great hiding place. Ah. Orchids in an unabundance that startled my mind.
What was it I wanted?
What was it I wanted?
What was it I wanted?
What was it I wanted?
Ah my love, you I wanted you, sitting on window sills while the parties were going on, drifting past me as I was looking at multiple moons with veils of tears blearing the sharp edges in my eyes.
Ah my love but now I swirl around like a cricket on lovedrugs. Now I look into mirrors and seek for my hasty self, lost in the mirage of dreams-to-have-to-come-true.
Ah my love, you, I wanted you all along and when you left you left space to breathe for me and now that you are gone I have to learn how to be alone and now that you have gone all those songs won't come along and now that you have gone I want to run away, somewhere, into the blue, I want to run, run, run far away, like back in the days, hide and seek
would you find me
like we found each other?
I can never be alone again.
it aches.
it hurts.
this is me in lost pain.
echoes from childhood days, distant memories from the girl I have once been driving the bike, singing into a threatening black thunderstorm sky, south France, so courageous...I didn't understand one word and yet lived with this family for one month. Children... And the tree was such a great hiding place. Ah. Orchids in an unabundance that startled my mind.
What was it I wanted?
What was it I wanted?
What was it I wanted?
What was it I wanted?
Ah my love, you I wanted you, sitting on window sills while the parties were going on, drifting past me as I was looking at multiple moons with veils of tears blearing the sharp edges in my eyes.
Ah my love but now I swirl around like a cricket on lovedrugs. Now I look into mirrors and seek for my hasty self, lost in the mirage of dreams-to-have-to-come-true.
Ah my love, you, I wanted you all along and when you left you left space to breathe for me and now that you are gone I have to learn how to be alone and now that you have gone all those songs won't come along and now that you have gone I want to run away, somewhere, into the blue, I want to run, run, run far away, like back in the days, hide and seek
would you find me
like we found each other?
I can never be alone again.
it aches.
it hurts.
this is me in lost pain.
refuge
some know me under a different name but this is my refuge
it is kinda scary to have the most raw thoughts put out there and risk them to be misunderstood by the person you love most...
yesterday i was mad, you know, just something that happens in any relationship, we were at the busstop, the sun pouring down like honey, hot honey, me leaning against the wall. and i just blended everything and everyone out, eyes closed, breathing the liquid sun, imagining myself ALONE on the road.
it was so easy that it scared me.
but then i realized. i am just like that. i've always been on my own. i am very self sustained, to the surprise of anybody who knows me probably. when i am with people i often rely on their sense of orientation or organization, and let my daydreaming mind drift away, but when i am on my own i find my way with the certainty of a woman's trained intuition or the security of a blind person in a dark room. they can find their way way better than us seeing people, when it is dark, because it doesn't matter to them.
I like being alone for a while and then go back into the realm of interaction and sharing.
I can unfold myself in a different way when I am alone and it has nothin, absolutely nothing to do with how much I love somebody. It doesn't mean I don't love being with them or don't need being with them, or him for this matter, but it means, I need this space to myself.
I guess i will have to maintain this space for myself in my life in order to become who I am.
it is kinda scary to have the most raw thoughts put out there and risk them to be misunderstood by the person you love most...
yesterday i was mad, you know, just something that happens in any relationship, we were at the busstop, the sun pouring down like honey, hot honey, me leaning against the wall. and i just blended everything and everyone out, eyes closed, breathing the liquid sun, imagining myself ALONE on the road.
it was so easy that it scared me.
but then i realized. i am just like that. i've always been on my own. i am very self sustained, to the surprise of anybody who knows me probably. when i am with people i often rely on their sense of orientation or organization, and let my daydreaming mind drift away, but when i am on my own i find my way with the certainty of a woman's trained intuition or the security of a blind person in a dark room. they can find their way way better than us seeing people, when it is dark, because it doesn't matter to them.
I like being alone for a while and then go back into the realm of interaction and sharing.
I can unfold myself in a different way when I am alone and it has nothin, absolutely nothing to do with how much I love somebody. It doesn't mean I don't love being with them or don't need being with them, or him for this matter, but it means, I need this space to myself.
I guess i will have to maintain this space for myself in my life in order to become who I am.
in obscurity
in obscurity you are
trying to break through
you with your smaragd eyes
flaming into the sea
trying to break through
you with your smaragd eyes
flaming into the sea
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