Eros Turranos

Acorns and trees!

2009-03-22T13:08:00.000-07:00

So, you meet a person, and somehow, despite their totally normal exterior, you sense something about them that no one else senses. You see a twinkle. A spark of reverence. There is a gem there, waiting to be unearthed. Talent and potential that, if unleashed, will shake the earth to its foundation. And once you start seeing them in the light of their hidden truth, you are breath-taken by how utterly beautiful and enchanting they truly are. And since you are a romantic at heart, you naturally think this is all fantastic, because you have always wanted to find that. That someone that's so truly special, that gem so perfectly hidden, that no one before you- and let's face it, the world is filled with idiots who can't see beyond their noses- was able to take note of it. You believe yourself to have found yourself a treasure, and all you need to do now is find a way to bring it to light, and your life, and the lives of others, but mostly your life, will be enriched forever.

Welcome to the perfect trap, ladies and gentlemen. I know, some of you will claim it's not a trap at all, but that's its brilliance: How un-trap-like those people are, and most importantly... how un-trap-like they feel..

Let's go over how this particular trap is set, exactly: They could be the most utterly brilliant talented person if only they can be pushed and encouraged, which you can do once you are more entrenched in their life, and then they will be as brilliant to everybody as you see them to be.

Stop me when this gets familiar....

But you know the end of this story, don't you? You have been there. You have seen it. You have seen how those people will fight your efforts to have them fulfill their potential. You have seen how they fight to keep and maintain their insecurities, the same insecurities that they know exist and admit hinders them, with the same ferociousness of a lioness protecting its cub. In the battle between being and nothing, they will always choose nothing, even if they dream every day of actually being.

And slowly, but surely, for the impartial logical observer, this particular case starts being part of a universal truth...those people will never be anything more. They will dream about it, and fill your head with their dreams, but they will do nothing to pursue or achieve it. Instead they will continue leading their meaningless careers and limited lives, but still demand that you believe in them.

Now, if you are a person with a savior complex, or think that self-sacrificing your life for someone else's happiness is cool, then, by all means, go ahead. This trap was MADE for you. But if you a slightly more evolved human being then maybe you will start admitting to yourself the truth: The person you love? The person that is so brilliant and beautiful in their own way that only you can see? That person does not exist. Never have, never will. And just to simplify this for ya: If you think there people out there that are "hidden gems" but are single or in relationships that "don't give them justice", then you should probably start believing in Santa Claus while you are at it. Those people are alone or are in dead-end-shitty relationships, for a reason, and it's not because no one else has eyes but you. It's mainly, because, those people you see, don't really exist, and never did. Potential, while nice, is nothing. It's an empty promise with no guarantees, given to you by an asshole who could've fulfilled it today if they chose to, but don't. Nope, I am sorry, there are no hidden gems; beauty doesn't get discarded for long for no reason, and you have not uncovered the great hidden treasure that was in plain sight for all to see. You are the Indian who thanked the white man for his very nice and un-expected blankets, and two days later wondered why he suddenly was feeling very ill and everything around him was going to shit.

And trust me, this will be you if you don't get out of that trap, because that same person will affecting your life as well. Ignore the dissapointment of not having them reach their poetntail for a second, and think of this for a change: 1) They will trap themselves in their heads, forever living in a fantasy world where all their dreams are realized, and this is where they would rather be, instead of actually living their lives or the moment, with you, and 2) Yeah, about those insecurities: they are not going anywhere. She will always feel not good enough..he will always crave the acceptance of his mother..they will forever put their lives on hold because society/parents expectations/whatever got in their way. Sounds fun, huh? You have just met the rarest of the breed: the talented person who sets for him/herself their own limitations, way before their actual limitations exist, and expect their relationship with you to be the ground of their own passivity. Great, huh?

It's probably one of the saddest things in the world, when a person chooses to give up on their dreams, but it's probably sadder if those dreams always end up being all they have. Hegel said, the truth of the acorn is the tree, but the tree needs to make the choice to grow, or else it will always remain an acorn. To meet the acorn, that could be the tree any day it chooses, but won't do it, and will dream about it instead.. well...Hell and damnation. Hell and damnation indeed.

Beware the trap, boys and girls. And don't trust your eyes too much, especially if they show you beauty where others have seen nothing. I mean, there is always the chance that you did truly find that diamond in the rough, that hidden treasure, that one special person that everybody somehow overlooked, but chances are, you didn't. Either way, you now know the signs, and you have been warned. Whether you walk away, or don't, truly up to you. I am personally running away, but that's just me.

Good luck!

To Naje

2009-01-27T00:09:00.000-08:00

There are essential and inessential insanities. The latter are solar in character, the former are linked to the moon. Inessential insanities are a brittle amalgamation of ambition, aggression, and pre-adolescent anxiety - garbage that should have been dumped long ago. Essential insanities are those impulses one instinctively senses are virtuous and correct, even though peers may regard them as coo-coo. Inessential insanities get one in trouble with one's self. Essential insanities get one in trouble with others. In fact, it may be essential. Poetry, the best of it, is lunar and is concerned with the essential insanities. Journalism is solar... and is devoted to the inessential.

Tom Robbins, Still Life with Woodpecker

ElKholasah elkholasah!

2009-01-26T23:54:00.000-08:00

The world is a wonderfully weird place, consensual reality is significantly flawed, no institution can be trusted, certainty is a mirage, security a delusion, and the tyranny of the dull mind forever threatens -- but our lives are not as limited as we think they are, all things are possible, laughter is holier than piety, freedom is sweeter than fame, and in the end it's love and love alone that really matters.

On Noha

2009-01-15T00:50:00.000-08:00

Ahh, how would one describe her? The vibe is like one of those girls you know at work, who on Monday her car dies and Tuesday her cat dies and Wednesday her waterheater dies and Thursday her grandmother dies and by Friday your heart has died and you can no longer care that she's broken up with her boyfriend for the eighteenth time and needs to talk to somebody on the phone about it for six hours and say the same things over and over and over, and then you meet the guy and he's so unbelievably boring that you can't imagine squeezing even one liquid ounce of drama out of him, much less the unending quarts she's been coming up with this whole time.

You have met her too, haven't you?

The Process of cutting someone off

2009-01-15T00:41:00.000-08:00

The day you do it, that first day, it sucks, mainly because you were put in that emotional confrontational mindframe to end it. Even if you are better off and relieved for cutting the person off, it still leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, and kind of hoevrs around you the entire day. The first day is not fun.

The second day, you are still in a shitty mood, so you rummage through your IPOD looking for a song to lift you up or chnage your mood. None of them works, because you are stupid to look for one in the first place. You don't need a distraction, you need to purge the remanants of yucky emotions by going through that rabbit hole till the end. So you figure you need a good "fuck off you, but still woe is me" song. Harder to Breathe by Maroon 5 is fantastic for that purpose, and the scream-singing helps. You feel instantly better once its over.

The Third day you can't even remember why you were so upset on the first day, and you go happily about your business. You write a blog post about it just to document that very strange, yet probably very common, process.

How does yours work?

On rationalizing one's relationships!

2008-12-15T01:47:00.000-08:00

"Listen, Larry," you say, doing your best to coat your singsong with a with a husky phlegm, "it just isn't going to work out with you and me."
"Work out?" He seems genuinely puzzled.
"Yes, you know, isn't going to lead anywhere."
"Oh, you'd be surprised where it might lead."
"I bet I would. But it isn't I mean, as a relationship, it has zero future."
"Future? Oh, I get it. You mean you don't foresee a pot of gold at the end of our juicy rainbow. You mean that our intimacy isn't likely to yield a dividend You disappoint me, Gwendolyn. I hoped you might have a watt or two more light in your bulb than those poor toads who look on romance as an investment, like waterfront property or municipal bonds Would you complain because a beautiful sunset doesn't have a future or a shooting star a payoff? And why should romance 'lead anywhere? Passion isn't a path through the woods. Passion is the woods. It's the deepest wildest part of the forest; the grove where the fairies still dance and obscene old vipers snooze in the boughs. Everybody but the most dried up and dysfunctional is drawn to the grove and enchanted by its mysteries, but then they just can't wait to call in the chain saws and bulldozers and replace it with a family-style restaurant or a new S and L. That's the payoff, I guess. Safety. Security. Certainty. Yes, indeed. Well, remember this, pussy latte: we're not involved in a 'relationship', you and I, we're involved in a collision. Collisions don't much lend themselves to secure futures, but the act of colliding is hard to beat for interest."

Tom Robbins, Half-asleep in Frogs Pajamas

Andrea

2008-12-11T01:43:00.000-08:00

In the center of the wooden mahogany dining table, under the modern metal lights hanging from the ceiling, directly facing the door of the posh zamalek apartment, lay a heavy crystal vase with dying white orchids in it. If roses are the floral equivalent of the silver bullet fired by the common man to kill the beast of litigi di amore that comes so often between him and his love interest, then Orchids have to be the floral equivalent of nuclear warheads fired for that same purpose. The man who sends roses is someone who is seeking the approval of an ordinary woman or simply courts the sympathy of an amazing one, hoping that she would forgive him but is resigned to the possibility that she may not. The man who sends Orchids is not entertaining such possibilities, especially not the one sending white orchids. Pink Orchids are tickled, offering romantic tropical temptations for its receiver, Violet Orchids are symbolic of visions of passion promised to be fulfilled upon approval, while White Orchids denote Hot and pure Love, moon lit magic that is breath taking in its bloom, forcing any warm blooded woman to let down her guard and surrender her affections immediately. Unfortunately for the sender, Andrea, the resident of said apartment and the target of those WMD of love, was not a warm blooded woman. Not anymore, anyway!

But amazing she remains, and no one who knows her can dispute that fact.

Wait, do you hear the shuffling of the keys behind that front door? Must be her. Quick, hide behind that couch. We are about to get an exclusive peek into the private single behavior of Andrea Hakim. You best appreciate this opportunity, cause it’s rarer than you can ever imagine. Now shhhh..I can hear the key turning.

In case we didn’t make that clear, Andrea lived in a one bedroom apartment, much to the Chagrin of her Lebanese architect father. His dismay wasn’t –unlike her Egyptian mother’s- caused by the fact that she is 30 year old now, single, never been married and living on her own, but rather the fact that she chose a “One bedroom” apartment to live on her own in, instead of renting a Two- or a three-bedroom apartment to live in. When she protested that it wouldn’t make any economic or practical sense for her to have more than a one-bedroom apartment to live in, her dad looked at her with sad eyes and said “That’s, 7abibty, exactly the problem”! And when she protested she didn’t know what he meant by that, he sat her down on the couch, held her left hand in his palms like he used to do when she was six years old and careless to the world, and explained to her the concept of architectural environmental psychology.

You see, for architects, a building is more than the sum of cement steel and bricks, the same way an apartment is more than the sum of its rooms. A building says volumes about the people who build it, or own it, the same way an apartment does for those who live in it. For example, an architect views a studio apartment as a symbol of the blatant fraud that only the genius of marketing can turn into what’s commonly known as “the truth”. According to him, studio apartments were called this way in order to sell us on an idea: that this is the kind of place that an artist would live in. As landlords would tell it: Artists- the bohemian vagabonds that they are- apparently were so consumed with the passion of creation that they would prefer to sleep in the same room they would create their art in. This is supposed to give the apartment an air of creativity, the mystique of rebellion, and the image of a resident so not affected by our culture of consumption and false pretenses that he would live in an apartment that is only big enough to carry his bed and closet, exactly what he needs. Just like a true artist would. This romantic image, this illusion, is naturally preferable for the tenant of a studio apartment, than the simply reality that he is living in a shoebox, or that not a single serious or self-respecting artist would ever live & work in a studio apartment, because artists need space and good light in order to be creative, two things that any studio apartment known to man sorely lack.

Andrea listened to her dad in silence, her giant curly hair doing its gravity-defying thing as usual, and was simply waiting for her moment to speak, to argue her case. Her father, having dealt with her and her like-minded sisters for the majority of his long life, knew that he had to press on without a moment’s pause if he wanted to convey his point to her, and that he did. He explained to her that a one bedroom apartment comes with a list of benefits and limitations, each saying volumes about the kind of person who chooses to inhabit it. It’s perfect for those who are living on their own; its small size giving them a sense of security and control of their environment. The apartment is never too big to clean or take care of, and at night, its small size prevents the demons of the imagination to play tricks on you, or allow actual burglars points of entry and hiding of which you are not 6 feet away from. In that aspect, the one bedroom apartment excels at doing its job, but really, that’s where the positives end.

He paused for a second, just to catch his breath, and like a shark with a nose for blood she attacked immediately. “But that sounds perfect for a single girl living on her own, Dad. How could there be a negative to this? It’s exactly what I need at this moment”, she huffed.

Using one hand (with the other still holding her hand), he lit his Marlboro lights, took a deep breath with his head down, as if silently debating with himself whether or not he wanted the headache that his next statement will surely warrant him. He then looked up to her, his eyes filled with the defiance of a man intent on saying his peace, and slowly spat the following statement:

“Because it will limit you!”

She staggered for a second, and he, like the Daddy shark that he is, sank his teeth in without hesitation.

“You know what a one bedroom apartment says about the person who lives in it? It says ‘ I don’t want to be any more than what I am at the moment’. A one-bedroom apartment doesn’t have room for anybody but the person who lives in it. No space for a friend to stay over, or a family member to visit. It says: ‘You are not invited to stay for long, any of you, so fuck off and leave me alone already’. It sense of security is only a façade to hide how lonely you are, something an extra bedroom or two would clearly remind you of with every passing day. Hell, having extra rooms is beneficial even if you don’t want people to stay over for extended periods of time. You could turn it into an office, or a hobby room of sorts, a work out room even. Something that would help you grow in some way. But no, not the one-bedroom apartment person, for he is not interested in growing. You know why? Because at the core of every person who could have a bigger place but chooses a one-bedroom, lies a Freeloader. Someone who wants to contribute nothing to no one, and has nothing to offer anybody, let alone him-or-herself.”

She took it all in, and liking none of it, she spat back: “Then, maybe I am a freeloader. So what? It’s not a crime!”

“Stop it. Just stop it. You know you are not. You are anything but a freeloader. You are my daughter, and I know you better than you know yourself. You were always bursting with talent and intelligence, ever since you were a kid. And now, you just…I don’t know...stopped. Why would you do this? Why would you lock yourself in a cell? You know money is not a problem.”

“Because I need to live alone, Dad. I am 29, I am obviously not getting married any time soon, and I need to live on my own. I need to be left alone in my own space, with nobody barging in on me whenever they feel like it. I NEED TO BE ALONE!”

He regarded what she said silently, and then gave her that look she hates- that sympathetic, I-love-you-but-you-are-breaking-my-heart-with-your-stupidty-look, and said softly “ Like you ever weren’t.”

She looked at him silently, her eyes begging him not to do this to her, and he took her plea. He took back his hands, got up and left, and the next day he told her mother that he agreed to her request and that she would be moving out within the month. She didn’t know how to react to the news exactly. Technically, she had won this fight, and gotten what she wanted. Yet… something about the way it all went down, she wasn’t sure how much of a victory this really was, or if it could be classified as one at all. She decided to take it anyway, and started packing and making moving arrangements.

Today, more than a year and a half into her lease, she still doesn’t know what it was, but she knows that it wasn’t a victory, not by a long shot. At the time she ignored that bitter taste in the back of her mouth, telling herself that it was simply the price that came with freedom. But freedom had nothing to do with it at the end of the day, because being on your own is not the same as being free, and that a life without change is a life without evolution. That was the message her father wanted to give her that day, the one she rejected out of stubbornness, and vanity, and maybe, just maybe, out of fear that he may be right.

You see, one of the major flaws of people is that whatever face the messenger wears ( and I don't honestly think that should matter), the message can't come clear, through all the dirt and fear and pain, until you give in and burn off what doesn't work. Whether it’s between the stars or between your lovers and your lies, until you lay down the burdens of hate and insecurities that keep you tied to the pain of your childhood and life experiences, unable to see your way clear, you can't hear the message properly. You'll never hear it right, until you watch it unfolding and realize it couldn't have been any other way. Until the rain washes you clean again. I don't know if Andrea’s father can see time this way, but I do know that it is the way Andrea can write her own destiny, and have it written for her. What she is doing is just a story she's been telling herself, all along. That this is the only way she can live.

But follow me here for a second: If we knew what was going to happen -- if we knew the pain and fear and ugliness that's part of our fate, if we forgot that it keeps the world turning -- who knows what we'd do differently? How do we know that this isn’t simply part of the physics: God and time working together to tell you this story, as many times as it takes, until you start paying attention? If it doesn't hurt, if it doesn't feel like death, you're just pretending to change. Burn sage and sweet grass and get a haircut and move to another city, go on a diet and swear off men for six months, a year, the rest of your life: that's cosmetic. And deep down you know it, which is why getting what you want would taste so bitter: because nothing really changes until you close your eyes and jump. That's half the confusion right there. Take a drop of water, or mercury, and divide it: whatever face the messenger wears, the message stays the same. The message stays the same alright; it's just that we keep hearing it wrong. Over and over again, until we get it right. And that day wasn’t a day Andrea got it right, and today wasn’t going to be one either.

She slammed the door behind her, and threw her bag on the dinning room table. She looked at the dying orchids for a second, and then went directly to her bedroom, taking her cloths off in the process, until she was wearing nothing but her bra and panties (correction-: G-string, cotton, black). She went into her bathroom and stood in front of the mirror for a second, checking herself out. Her tall, slender, skinny legs, the legs of a dancer, still had their shine. Her stomach was still flat, and her boobs weren’t sagging, well, not exactly, yet. For a woman in her thirties (and she would loathe to call herself that), she still has the body of someone in her mid-twenties. And she almost felt good about herself for a second, until she saw those three white hairs sticking out on top of her curls. And that’s all it took for self-esteem, which dared to venture its shiny little head, to get kicked by her insecurities right in the testicles. Her hand moved as if to pluck it out, but then stopped herself mid-air and brought her hand down. Her face tensed up, as if she was going to cry, but produced no tears. Not from any kind of inner-strength, mind you, but because for almost 6 months now, our girl here could not bring herself to cry. Not even once.

The annoying thing was, there was no incident that brought upon this change, this drought in her tear ducts. There was no catalyst, no story of someone hurting her and her hardening up because of it. Nothing like that. It just...happened. One day she woke up and she could no longer cry. Even when she wanted to, even when the situation demanded it, even when she was so overwhelmed with Life’s shit and knew that she needed the release, she just couldn’t cry. She would try, god knows she would, trying to breathe quicker as if to cause hyper-ventilation, thinking about all the stuff that’s making her so sad in order to force the reaction, even going as far as squeezing her eyes hard during that just to get her eyes tearing, and nothing would happen. And that wouldn’t bother her as much if it wasn’t for the fact that 2 weeks after she realized it, she also stopped being able to sleep. Insomnia haunted her daily, rarely giving her an hour or two of sleep every day, which was almost never comforting. She would be restless, having the weirdest of dreams, and always waking up, every single day, every single time, with the same thought: You are running out of time.

She called him once about a recurring dream that she had been having for a month or two now, partly because she knew he would figure out what it means and partly because she just needed to talk about it. In her dream, she told him, she was walking inside her house, but it wasn’t her apartment, but rather an old big house, but she knew it to be her house. And inside that house, there was a party, with people all over the place, talking and mingling and drinking, none to her. She walked finally into the kitchen, which floor was covered with a blanket made of cockroaches. The cockroaches quickly started to crawl all over her, climbing on her legs and stomach, running all over her arms, breasts and back, quickly cover her entire body and moving onto her face when she starts screaming and wakes up terrified with Goosebumps.

He listened patiently and asked her to give him 10 minutes until he consults his books and gets back to her. In 5 minutes he had called her back, and told her what her dream meant. To see a house in your dream, represents your own soul and self. Specific rooms in the house indicate a specific aspect of your psyche. For example, the attic represents your intellect, the basement represents the unconscious, etc. To see an old, run-down house in your dream, represents your old beliefs, attitudes and how you used to think or feel. Alternatively, the old house may symbolize your need to update you mode of thinking. To dream that you are at a party, suggests that you need to get out more and enjoy yourself. And finally, to see a cockroach in your dream, signifies your need for renewal, rejuvenation and self-cleansing of your psychological, emotional, or spiritual being. Having them crawl all over you in a dream means one thing: You need to reevaluate major aspects of your life.

She listened to him in silence, taking it all in and not interrupting him once. When he finished, he asked her if it sounds true to her, and she abruptly agreed. Then, changing the subject quickly in order not to let him dwell on that and start a conversation she knows he would love to have, she asked him if he found out what the dream he had of her a couple of weeks ago meant. His voice immediately hardened, and he icily told her that he didn’t want to talk about it. Thinking his abrupt attitude was some sort of childish retribution to times she likewise rebuked him (and god knows they were privy to such games), she ignored it, let it slide, didn’t ask him for a reason, and thanked him for interpreting her dream for her. She then hung up, got up, put on a long T-shirt, walked out of her room, sat in her empty living room, turned on the TV and started flipping the channels, searching for entertainment, or mental stimulation, or simply the distraction the noises and images in front of her offered her. Anything to make her stop thinking of the dream and its interpreter.

No such peace of mind was granted to him though, her question bringing him to face something he successfully forgotten about a few days ago: the meaning of his dream of her. It was exactly 18 days when that dream, with its vividness and realness, and crashed right into his psyche. In that dream He was walking the streets of Zamalek, when he found himself suddenly in front of her building, with the voice of her screaming from inside of it. He ran up the stairs and found himself in front of her apartment, her door suddenly replaced with a clear sea-through glass one, and behind it she was on the floor, screaming and struggling against a masked intruder, who suddenly had a knife in his hand and who started stabbing her all over her body, her blood coming out red and strong all over the otherwise black and white scene. And he- the interpreter- would knock frantically on the door, try to smash through it, with no avail, as that intruder manically stabbed her to death. And then he woke up.

When he told her about the dream, he remembers that she self-involved-ly interpreted it as part of the personal existential crisis she was having these days (or, like, ever since he met her), but wouldn’t admit to. Some sort of testament that even he was seeing that she was dying inside, or something. The truth was quiet different he came to find out, especially after he checked his books on what that dream actually meant. You see, it wasn’t about her at all, at least not personally. But he wouldn’t tell her that. He wouldn’t tell her any of it, out of fear what the truth of the dream would say about him, or how he feels at the moment.

The truth was, that seeing someone you know getting killed in a dream had nothing to do with them getting harmed at all. It simply meant that whatever they represented to you, whatever they mean to you as people, whatever they symbolize in your life and your sub-consciousness, whatever part of your soul they occupy, whatever part of your heart they have their name written on, whatever piece of you that belongs to them and gives them that hold over you, whatever part of your existence they rule, that part, simply must die.

A 7 am conversation with K

2008-06-03T03:52:00.000-07:00

K: So, why are you in such foul mood about?

Me: Because there are people that I should cut out of my life, that cause unnecessary drama, and I still haven't cut them out yet.

K: Why haven't you?

Me: I should, I really should. You know, my brain tells me what to do, and I know my brain is right, but my heart keeps telling me to give another chance. To keep them. To be patient. It's all very stupid.

K: Aww.. you have a heart. That's so cute!

Me: Dude. It's not cute..It's stupid. It's delaying the inevitable and the logical, and it's making me do things that are completely contrary to who I am and what benefits me. My heart doesn't have my best intention as one of his interests. My heart is a fuckin traitor.

K: That's deep man!

Me: Fuck off!

The window of opprutunity

2008-03-15T06:02:00.001-07:00

People tell me that I am impatient, and they are not wrong.

The problem lies, I think, in the fact that I am a classic textbook Gemini through and through, which means that I am an ADD head Borderline-Asshole who is constantly seeking excitement and stimulation, and who is thoroughly fascinated and in love with himself. People don’t get that, and that last part always gets them confused, even though I can explain it time and time again: “I am in love with me. I think I am the best thing since sliced bread. I would rather hang out all by myself than with 90% of the people in my facebook friends list. I value myself and I value my time greatly, so don’t you dare waste it.”

Yep, that’s the attitude.

So the way it works in relationships and friendships is as follows: I decide that I like you, that you would make fun and worthy company, so I contact you and put in the effort to actually hang out with you. That- due to my massive ego that y’all love to reference so much- takes so much from me personally, that when I do it, I expect nothing less than an enthusiastic response from those I reach out to. I expect that mainly because I don’t seek the company of many (it's usually otehrs who seek my company), so if I am trying to hang out with someone, it’s because I believe them to be something interesting, special, above the fray so to speak. And I expect them to have the intelligence to get that.

What they don’t get, however, is that I am not going to wait on them forever. The moment I open up to having you as part of my life, you are granted-in my view- a window of opportunity not granted for many. That window has both a time & effort limit, and if the person exhausted either one of their limits, I immediately get bored with them and never bother with them again. And while you may think of that as awfully ego-centric or whatever, it’s just simply how I operate, which is why I keep trying to get them to jump on that bandwagon. And that’s when people accuse me of being impatient. But it’s not that, I try to explain, I just don’t want to get bored with you, because the moment I do, it’s like an automatic system shutdown towards that person. I may meet them, they may get me to talk and respond and even joke around, but I am simply not there. I am not engaged, even if I would like to be. It’s like I am done with that person forever, and there are no second chances or reprieves.

And it drives me crazy.

It drives me crazy because some of those people I would’ve actually liked to keep around and care about, especially that I only emotionally invest myself in so few people, and then due to whatever reason (they are busy, they are playing hard to get, they have intimacy issues, they might just not like me, etc..) that person my have, I find that the effort I put in isn’t reciprocated the same way, so I immediately start to do two things simultaneously 1) start to distance myself from them with less phone calls, chats or meet-ups and 2) when I do try to reach them in order to do things, I am more insistent than usual, mainly because deep inside I know that if this goes on for a few more days, the window of opportunity will automatically shut itself, and no power in the universe can convince me to bother with that person ever again. I don’t do chases. Games bore the shit out of me. I adore simplicity. But that’s me, and apparently people like me aren’t that common anymore.

So yes, I know I am frustrating at times. I know I am slightly cuckoo about this specific issue, but at least I know it and I try to remedy it. This is part of the process. I am letting you know so you can understand.

That is all!

Frozen in the cycle

2008-02-24T05:30:00.000-08:00

We met a long while back, almost 3 years now, and me and her recognized immediately that we had a connection. I understood her, she understood me and we couldn’t get enough of hanging out with each other. It wasn’t friendship, it wasn’t love or physical attraction. It’s simply the knowledge that one person gets you, really gets you, and that you get them back. That’s the extent of the demands you two asked of one another.

There is nothing like it in the whole world.

And when I try to explain it to people, they didn’t get it. They asked me to date her, to take her out, to take a positive step to change the clutter infested disaster that has come to be known as my love-life to something more, ehh, cheerfull, while I shook my head and told them to shut the fuck up. It’s not about that. A connection doesn’t always mean friendship, nor does it always mean romantic involvement. It’s something beyond that. It involves clicking with someone. Fitting with them. Not for any other purpose but that. It’s when you don’t have to invite someone into your heart because they already live there. They own a piece. And it seems like they always did, you just didn’t know any pieces were missing.

So I gave up on talking about it to people. What’s the point anyway? In their mind the purpose of any two people who are single and who remotely like each other is for them to be together. Coupling as an end to itself. Because the worst thing in this world- according to them- is apparently being alone when you could be with someone. I don’t know. I never shared that sentiment (maybe because I like being alone?). You could be with someone 24/7 and they still don’t get you or you them. Maybe just having someone in this world who does is enough. How many people can say that they have someone who gets them, really gets them? Someone who puts no barriers when you two talk, someone not afraid of showing you and you alone their scars? Having someone like that is your life is lucky enough, I always said, so why possibly ruin it by wanting more? No, I liked my relationship with her as it is. Pure, clean and undiluted. It was perfect. That’s probably why it couldn’t last!

It all went to shit when she finally came to visit. We had some drinks, and we were hyper and happy and goofing around like the 2 6-year olds that we allow ourselves to be in the company of each other, and then she told me she was wondering about something: what it would be like to kiss me. So, I kiss her, and we lost ourselves in that kiss for hours. It was , for the lack of a better word, perfect. Everything melted. Nothing mattered anymore. And time seemed like a myth. We would take 10 minute rests every hour or so, gasping for air, and looking at each other wondering if this was really happening. And it was. We had that perfect moment where the emotional and the physical connects, and nothing seemed to be able to take that away.

And like that, poof, it was gone!

It wasn’t gone that night, mind you. It was the morning after, when she woke up confused and disoriented and guilty, not knowing if what she did was a mistake, mad at herself for jeopardizing a friendship, mad at herself for doing something she never done before, and frightened as hell from the freedom that she experienced with me. This was new to her, which also meant that it was dangerous, which therefore means it needs to stop. And then she decided to let me know all that as soon as possible. Oh , how fun that experience was.

I tried to explain to her that she needs to chill out, that what happened is not gonna affect our friendship, because simply, we were never friends. We were always more than that, but not lovers either. We were question marks in each other’s lives, and that’s probably how it will always be. I begged her not to allow guilt to mess with her mind, to recognize the fact that there is no sin in pleasure, but it all fell on deaf ears. Who can stop a woman when she is on a journey of self flagellation anyway? Hell, in her mind, me trying to tell her that there is no reason for her to freak out like this was probably out of my desire to hook up with her again. The once impervious connection was now all distorted by guilt and bullshit and confusion. In less than 24 hours, everything got fucked.

It’s soo stupid to me, because, honestly, no matter how perfect that make-out session was, it wasn’t worth losing her to awkwardness and distance. You try to explain this to her but something tells you that she is not listening. That her own mind is working over time trying to figure out a solution to our non-existent crisis and I am not helping her by informing her that the crisis doesn’t exist and that she is being a huge drama queen. And to think this whole thing would’ve worked better if we actually talked it out instead of freaking out about it, but she did just that, and I ended up picking the pieces after her. It of course helped that I knew immediately what was gonna happen next, so you can say I was prepared.

Confused girl M.O. 101: Keep your distance, but deny that you are doing anything. Have conversations with your source of confusion about him and him alone. Avoid talking about any real topics affecting you at the moment, because they would eventually delve into a conversation about him and you, which could lead to resolving the situation, and who wants that? No, better to keep the distance, and have him do all the work of trying to maintain the “connection” for at least 4 months until you decide you will no longer give in to crazy and that enough is enough. He, of course, will have to grin and bear it, because let’s face it, it’s not like he has any feelings of his own about this entire thing, and even if he did, yours matter more damn it, so he should just suck it up and be understanding.

Fun times!

It all doesn’t matter after a while though, because eventually the situation gets fixed. It may take 2 or 6 or 8 months, but eventually things return to normal. Your connection resumes its ambiguous nature, and you, yet again, drive your friends insane by how close you two are without being together. And while you couldn’t be happier about it, sometimes, when you are being totally honest with yourself, you can’t help but being slightly sad about those few wasted months of trying to ratify something that wasn’t a mistake to begin with, and how there will always be this tainted spot in your history, because of the actions taken by both of you one drunken night.

You two are not in love, because god knows you are not the slightest bit jealous when she is dating others, nor would you ever make a demand on her in regards to dating you. Love is for children. What you both have, or had, is so many steps ahead of love it’s not even funny, and it will continue to exist even if you both married different people and lived half a globe away from each other, and that’s what you love about it.

What you hate about it is your realization that it is vulnerable to the viruses that kill all other forms of relationships: Guilt, self-doubt, insecurity and confusion. Your connection isn’t as bullet-proof as you thought, and that just breaks your heart, because the one certain thing in your life is not certain anymore and there is nothing you can do about it. You feel powerless, frozen in a cycle, just simply awaiting the next time it will all go to shit all over again, until the day comes when she decides she is over all that, and finally sets you both free.

The Two cups

2007-09-01T05:34:00.001-07:00

Imagine Two cups, one that has the word "Love" on it, and another that has the word "Pain" on it.

When you start loving someone, and I mean love in its most general terms, ya3ny love you have for your friends and the love you have for your significant other, you find inside of you a compartment with those 2 cups that has the name of your loved one on it.

As usually the case, the Love cup is almost all the way full, and the Pain cup is empty. However, slowly but surely the cup starts getting filled, as the ones we love start hurting us. It could be a trickle of numerous small offenses, or a couple gushing big ones, but the effect is always the same. The cup, that once was empty, was now catching up with the Love cup in terms of fullness.

That being the case, we continue staying with those who hurt us, because the love cup still holds more in it than the Pain cup. This could be the case forever, or the pain cup continues to get filled and to catch up with the Love cup. Until the most dangerous phase is reached. The Phase of equilibrium. When the Love cup and the Pain cup are both equally filled. When there is a equal balance of Love and Pain in that person's account with you. That's when things get interesting, precisely because the moment anything, any small offense, gets committed by that person we loved, we are immediately done with them. It's over, in the most sudden and aggressive of manner. You are through with them, for a very very long time, quite possibly forever.

The people around us, who only see what's been happening on the surface, are always astonished at that reaction. They ask you why you did what you did. They cite all the older examples of bad shit that person has done to you when you forgave them unequivocally, and wonder why you chose to turn the tables on them for this particular small incident. And you can't always fully explain it, because it doesn't always make sense to whomever listens, but in the most laymen of terms, you've just had enough and you weren't going to take it anymore. Your Pain cup was filled and started to overflow. Something needed to be done.

The sad thing is, it never has to be like this. While the Love cup is permanent and fixed, the pain cup is volatile and can be drained,and it doesn't take much to drain it. All it takes is a little effort and sincerity. God knows they are already aided by the love we have for them. But they are usually oblivious, insolently unappreciative and too secure in the love you offered them to really care or be alarmed. And while it is true that you can never really stop loving people you once loved, it's also true that you can let go of the pain they've caused you, if they were honest in the efforts, and done it before the pain levels reached the critical point of Balance with the love cup. Somehow, after that, all efforts appear futile, and simply too little too late.

I try to stay aware of those two cups when dealing with the people I love. Maybe that's why when I have to hurt them I try to minimize it as much as possible. I don't love easily, the people inside my circle of intimacy are rare and counted, and everybody knows this. Maybe that's why it stings more when I am hurt, because I know that I would do anything for those I love, but they wouldn't necessarily do the same for me.

It's not the act, or the pain, that gets you in the end. It's the sense of betrayal, like falling from 10 story building, and finding out a little too late that there won't be anyone down there to catch you.

2007-08-30T10:41:00.000-07:00

Dear You know who,

This is not the post that was supposed to be here.

Instead, there was a bigger post, filled with anger and venom towards you. Four pages, listing in detail how much of a really bad friend you are, how you took me for granted, how you brought nothing but shit into my life, and a lot more angry whiny crap like that. It was mean, it attacked below the belt and it aimed to destroy any visage of friendship we had and quite possibly fuck you up. Everybody who read it warned me not to send it for those exact reasons.

Well, as you can see, I didn't post it or send it to you, but not because of those reasons. I didn't send you that post, despite the temptation caused by your provocative statements, because it would've been really cowardly to do so. The aim would've been to get you so hurt you would never attempt contacting me again, and I wouldn't have to deal with confronting you or with any more drama coming from you. Not to mention, even though it's been nothing but heartache, I did care about you a whole lot, and I do believe that the friendship we had demands more respect than an angry ranting 4 page post.

You seem to think that this is another one of our fights, and that once we sit down and talk everything will be resolved. You are totally wrong on this count. You took the friendship for granted, you weren't there when I needed you the most, and you even caused unnecessary shit when I psychologically couldn't handle it, and you don't see you did anything wrong at all. Even when you recognize that you were a bad friend, you blamed me for being too good of a friend to you. You demand forgiveness without contrition or atonement, and god knows I obliged you in the past, but no more!

This relationship is permenantly damaged, and the friendship is beyond repair. It has been for quite some time, I just didn't notice it. Or maybe I just didn't want to admit it to myself. Either way, we are through. You should know this. We can meet and talk about it, but I don't think it would be of any use. It's probably better this way.

I wish you all the best in life, and all the luck in the world. I hope you find friends who will be able to handle..well..you, and who wouldn't "give up and flee" like you said I did. I tried, but I couldn't. It was too much to care for you when you didn't care for yourself, or even act as if you cared about me. It was an abusive relationship in every definition of the word, and its expiration date has been long overdue. I hope that not everybody ends up feeling this way I do, because you deserve people caring for you and being there for you. I just regret I couldn't be one of them.

All the love in the world,

Me

elusive

2007-08-14T06:52:00.000-07:00

She's a gambler spinning wheels,
A poison victim but look of steel.
The coldest hearts you've ever felt,
The coldest hands you've ever held.

Taking down, on your way.
A million miles, still no headway.
As I learn to live long,
In a mind I'm proud to roam.

She's elusive and I'm awake,
You're finally real, there's nothing fake.
A mystery now to me and you,
Open my eyes and I'm next to you.
She said my destiny
lies in the hands that set me free.

A reckless night, she hears me breathe,
Cursing the sky at this company.
They lost the wisdom deep inside,
When bitterness shows it's side.

If it's true, I am doomed,
What more is there to hold on to?
A strand of her hair is all I own,
A gift to me, this sorry soul.

She's elusive and I'm awake,
You're finally real, there's nothing fake.
A mystery now to me and you,
Open my eyes and I'm next to you.
She said my destiny
lies in the hands that set me free.

The sun in sails, and this ain't right.
There's more to her than meets the eye.
She comes and goes at any time,
Back in my head at another time.

She's elusive and I'm awake,
You're finally real, there's nothing fake.
A mystery now to me and you,
Open my eyes and I'm next to you.
She said my destiny
lies in the hands that set me free

Lonely Girl

2007-08-11T23:08:00.000-07:00

A pill, a joint, a glass and maybe a trip
Sweet talk, lights out, and maybe then strip
To let go, to escape, to hide out in plain sight
Always restless, too bored, too weak to fight,
when all of her demons come out to play at night.
Sensation junkie, scared girl, hide from the light!

You always seek, to run away, to escape this place
The methods vary, putting that smirk on your face
Like the snake, its bite, its poison and its charm
Or lost in the oblivion of someone else’s arms
Always in the shadows, always staying in the dark
You keep hoping they won’t get to see the scars

You are surrounded by many, but you are always alone
Your seclusion, vibrating, but never really shown
Your illusions, reverberating, setting the tone
You are "ugly", you are "fat", and incredibly cruel
You will hurt, purposely, all who care about you
“You don’t believe me? Well, I’ll show you too!”

But there are those, like me, who just won’t let go
I know this game, your pain, I know….I KNOW!
It won’t be cured by pushing them all away
By causing, all of that Havoc, almost every day
That collateral damage, you inflict, indiscriminately
Your death wish eating you, spreading that misery

Well, sweet little girl, you might just succeed
You might push away all the people you actually need
Your desolation, your isolation, secured, indeed
I would just hate to see
those who damaged you, win
Reigning victorious, unopposed
in that great battle within
Owned by your demons, forever..
That would be such a sin!

My current state

2007-07-06T02:49:00.000-07:00

My soul on fire waiting to explode and my heart growing so ever cold.

Her song to me

2007-07-04T03:43:00.000-07:00

He wants to be, he wants to be,
with everything under the sun
And like a legend that rises and then falls
I cannot be his only one

He makes me feel, he makes me feel,
like you used to,
And like a fickle flower when it first sees the light
I cannot show just how I fight
Babe I saw you walking, it was after midnight
Carrying nothing except for a flashlight
You wanted to be Romeo so low at my window
Will you open the door for me if you believe in chivalry?
For I do not think you low though you bow to me so-so.

I know you want to drink
from the purest wine
But the drink is far more sour
then you would ever think.

He wants to be, he wants to be
with everything under the sun
And she wants to burn, she wants to burn
hot like that sun,

Just like a legend that rises and then falls
I cannot be his only one.
And like a callous, cold, callous woman
she'll never know what she did done.

So like this legend that rises and then falls I'll never be his only one!

Legend, Nelly Furtado

Snapshot # 1

2007-06-29T08:03:00.001-07:00

Her: Sometimes i feel that you are kind and clear

Her: at other times

Her: i feel that you will do anything for entertainment

Her: you would manipulate people like puppets to watch a nice show

Me: I think you are projecting

Her: maybe i am:) but when i wrote it i meant it for you

Me: yeah

Me: i wish it was that easy

Me: nahh

Me: no point in manipulating people

Me: they fuck themselves over just fine

Me: the show is nice regardless

Me: I only try to interfere when it's just getting too stupid

Me: but even that, ehh, I kinda stopped doing

Her: why?

Me: Too much effort

Me: and for what?

Me: to save someone from doing something stupid?

Me: forget about it

Me: let the chips fall where they may

Me: It will all resolve itself in the end anyway

Her: this is a very scary line

Me: it will just take longer, so might as well do nothing

Me: what is a scary line?

Her: will resolve itself

Me: why?

Her: because it is an echo of the predestined line

Her: you know

Her: everything is predestined

Snapshot # 2

2007-06-29T08:02:00.000-07:00

Me: its causality

Me: but who cares

Me: the point is this

Me: don't bother

Me: if it works it works, if it doesn’t it doesn't

Me: and people will fuck up anyway

Me: it's in their nature

Me: so why even bother?

Me: Let it be

Her: why are you talking as though you were some sort of an upgraded version of us - silly mortals

Me: hehe

Me: we are all silly mortals

Her::D

Me: some are just slightly ahead of the curve than others

Me: call it advanced

Me: upgraded

Me: evolved

Me: whatever you wanna call it!

Her: ahhh ok ... i hate to think that those are the ones that err first

usually are

Her: for the rest of us to learn

Me: this is why they try to stop others from making the same mistake

Me: but the lesson u learn is this

Me: don’t give people knowledge

Me: they won’t respect it

Me: or you

Her: lol

Me: make them earn knowledge

Me: and they might just stand a chance

Her: that whole conversation sounds so ominous:)

Snapshot # 3

2007-06-29T08:01:00.000-07:00

Her: now i feel that i do not want to meet E.

Me: why?

Her: and do not care to show I. my books

Her: and i just want to stay home for shelter

Her: lest i make a mistake

Me: silly rabbit

Me: if it's not them, it's gonna be someone else

Me: until u figure out what u truly want

Me: instead of prusuing every possible temporary high

Me: to satsify u for the day

Me: u will end up making mistakes anyway

Her: now what's wrong with the temp highs?

Me: they are temporary

Me: and they distract from permenant ones

Me: instead of seeking something substantial, u seek entertainment of the day

Her: permenant ones were not meant for me .. i am too fickle

Me: that's a lie and u know it

Me: but u chose to believe it anyway

Tear you apart

2007-06-27T03:56:00.000-07:00

Got a big plan, this mindset maybe its right
At the right place and right time, maybe tonight
And the whisper or handshake sending a sign
Wanna make out and kiss hard, wait nevermind

Late night, and passing, mention it flipped her
Best friend, who knows saying maybe it slipped
But the slip turns to terror and a crush to light
When she walked in, he throws up, believe its the fright

Its cute in a way, till you cannot speak
And you leave to have a cigarette, your knees get weak
An escape is just a nod and a casual wave
Obsessed about it, heavy for the next two days

It's only just a crush, it'll go away
It's just like all the others it'll go away
Or maybe this is danger and you just don't know
You pray it all away but it continues to grow

I want to hold you close
Skin pressed against me tight
Lie still, and close your eyes girl
So lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close
Soft breasts, beating heart
As I whisper in your ear

I want to fucking tear you apart

Then he walked up and told her, thinking that he'd passed
And they talked and looked away a lot, doing the dance
Her hand brushed up against his, she left it there
Told him how she felt and then they locked in a stare

They took a step back, thought about it, what should they do
Cause theres always repercussions when you're dating in school
But their lips met, and reservations started to pass
Whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last

Either way he wanted her and this was bad
He wanted to do things to her it was making him crazy
Now a little crush turned into a like
And now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her

I want to hold you close
Skin pressed against me tight
Lie still, and close your eyes girl
So lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close
Soft breasts, beating heart
As I whisper in your ear
I want to fucking tear you apart

She wants revenge

The cave

2007-06-24T03:27:00.000-07:00

Here is a question for you today: In your opinion, how many lives do you lead at once? Ever think about it? Ever count them? Ever wonder how it all may look like to an outside observer?

What? A confusing question? Let me elaborate:

Let's say that any person, no matter who he or she is, leads at least two lives, or to be more accurate , 2 faces. One of them is a face one wears to face the civilized world, also known as your co-workers, your family, and the friends whom you care what you look like in front of. Ok? And then there is the second face, the one that yields more to our baser instincts, and is usually found inside bedrooms or dark and seedy places, with people whose actions wouldn't be condoned publicly in the civilized world. Hell, the knowledge that such a face exists is enough to ruin any semblance of a so called civilized front that you may like to project to the outside world. You know what I am talking about: The duality of man, day and night, light and dark, order and entropy. It's all been said before. Nothing really new here, right?

If only it was that simple!

I thought it was. I really did. I thought that there are only those 2 sides of you, and I thought that having one hidden while the other exposed is a form of hypocrisy. And I am no hypocrite, right? I am Mr. Honest with myself. So I figured that the best way to eliminate any accusations of said hypocrisy, and to be able to lead a healthy balanced honest life, is to let everyone see both sides. To have one leg standing in the civilized world, and the other firmly placed in the gutter in plain sight, for everyone to see, well, that's honesty. To let everyone know your sinful ways while managing to lead your so called "civilized" life, well, that's the only way to live. Freedom baby. Freedom from all the judgment, and all the bullshit. No one has shit on me I thought. And it worked. People believed it. Even I believed it. I was patting myself on the back for being such an honest with myself guy.

What a fool I was.

The problem isn't in the so called civilized world, or their judgment or their bullshit. I wish it was that easy. I wish I could just say that if it wasn't for all of those people, we would all be free to lead lives of depraved self-indulgence. I wish that was the only thing holding us back. The only thing that keeps us lying! It isn't!

Let's ignore the concept of duality for a minute and look at it from a different perspective: Let's say that there is a green field with open skies where the wind blows, the birds soars and everything is in its proper aesthetic place. Now, let's envision a cave in the middle of that field: and cave that goes downwards, and its darkness keeps you or anyone else from seeing where it ends. It could be 10 feet, it could be miles. You don't really know and you can't really tell. You would need to go down that cave, with its mazes and formations, to see how deep down it really goes. And with every step you sink deeper and deeper.

If one envisions such a cave, and thinks of it as the more instinctive part of someone's personality, their game face so to speak, one faces an interesting dilemma of perspective. What the people on the surface see, is not the same as the people peeking down that cave will see, nor is it what the people going down that cave will see. And mind you, the people walking on the field might not see those peeking into the cave, and those peeking might not be aware of those lurking in the depth, seeing for themselves what the belly of this beast really looks like from the inside. They could all be strangers who don't know each other, who never met before, who might never ever meet, yet the one thing they have in common is that they are all either looking at the cave or walking inside it. And the cave will offer a different experience for every single one of them: Some might stumble into a room filled with treasure, others might find themselves facing a chamber of horrors, and let's not forget those who along the way either break their legs, lose their ways or get crushed when- purposely or not- they cause the rocks inside to come down on them. Some find it enriching, others disturbing, and for some people it's the end of their lives as they know it.

But it's still the same cave!

There is no contradiction in that, no dishonesty, what others see is totally based on how far they are willing to explore or on the place they stumbled on in the cave. Right?

Well, yeah, technically, but the analogy is false. A cave just sits there. It may attract people who like to explore it, but it doesn't actively seek them. That's the difference at the end of the day, the active human involvement. It takes away the guiltlessness of it all. Yeah, sometimes some people will stumble upon your cave, but sometimes you will seek them out and bring them in. Some you will even entrap, luring them in with the open skies and the green fields and then have them fall head on in your cave without warning them how deep the rabbit hole really is.

And some people. Just a few people, are only exposed to a specific part of the cave and nothing else. And that's all they know, and all that they will ever know of your cave. Some may live there forever, and others may flee, but neither will know more about this place than you will ever allow them.

Now, replace the word formation with faces in your mind, and think of those cave explorers as your friends, acquaintances, lovers, fuckbuddies and emotional victims. How far had each of them gone? What do they know? Which parts did they see? And did they meet in the middle of it all? Did they interact? Did they share information? Do they know how dark and twisted you can be? How fun and freaky you can allow yourself to become? Did they stumble upon your little chamber of secrets and find a way to open the dead bolted metal door and were able to take a look to who really was in there? Would you allow them such a discovery? Would you let them in? What if they found a way in anyway and figured out all of your little secrets, lies and truths? What are you to do to them? Would you let them get away with it? Would you be scared? Or would you be relieved?

The human soul is like that cave, and our secrets and desires dictate the passageways. We allow certain people to see certain things, and yet complain that no one understands us. And the psychotic thing is, it's absolutely possible for 10 people to encounter you, to see part of you, and come out with 10 completely different views of you, all contradictory and all absolutely true. But that's their prerogative! What's yours?

You keep parts of your life hidden from the other parts, even from those whom your promised open access. You relish having hidden chambers and secret passageways where you unleash your demons on people or allow your angels to show your better self to those you deem worthy of sharing it with them. You hear the people in the different passages, all thinking they have reached the bottom of the cave, while in reality they haven't even scratched the surface. Only you claim to know how far down it goes, but even that is a lie; otherwise you wouldn't be surprised by your actions and decisions like you sometimes are. The question of "What the fuck am I doing?" is one that is familiar to you, and something tells you that it will stay that way till the last day of your life.

You take comfort in your open fields, in the fact that so many seem to enjoy them without ever stumbling upon the darkness underneath it all, where sounds of screaming dogs and dark bleeding makes the leaves on the surface richer. People always ask to accompany you for a quickfall, but you already traveled on that road and you know that holding their hands through it will only make the trip harder. Better to let the maelstrom take them in, allow them to see the sharp edges and the places where the curves end and make jewelry from the shreds around them. Let them find the unrivaled beauty in the savagery that awaits, and hope they don't get stuck in the place where the Ferris Wheel spins no more. There might be beauty in despair, but you hope that they survive the rivers of your nature and not allow themselves to be trapped in the emptiness of a figment of your truth. The truth is, you are en emotional Darwinist, looking for the fittest to survive the gauntlet that is your psyche and find salvation somewhere in your wilderness.

Until that day comes, you too, will be trapped in your cave. You don't mind it if that day never came though; you have turned it into more of a home than a prison anyway. And the metal bars and steel doors assure you now. The truth may be trapped in there, but then again, things that command the kind of price something like "Truth" commands should be. The bitter smell of your burning desire to be free, well, that just sticks on you till the day when it's finally fed comes!

Too late

2007-05-31T08:13:00.000-07:00

Dear I,

This is my way of communicating to you everything I haven't been saying those past few days, but have been reflecting in the way I am treating you. You are complaining that I am treating you badly and giving you lots of shit over what you've done, but you have it all wrong: It's not you that I am punishing, it's myself, and that's for caring too much. Let me elaborate...

I have known that you were self-destructive from the beginning, or at least had the tendencies, but you had demonstrated through words and actions that you are done with screwing yourself over, that you are tired of being self destructive and that you are finally taking control of your life and responsibility for your actions. For that reasons I was proud to be your friend and allowed myself to get closer to you, to the degree of calling and regarding you as my bestfriend at the moment. Your history didn't matter to me, because I wasn't going to judge you for the mistakes you've done if you were done with them. And you were, but you needed help and support in order to stay on the wagon as you've put it, and I was more than willing to be there for you. I even gave you a choice early on on whether you would like to be an A friend or a B friend, and you chose A, with all what it would entail. This was going to be one of the most rewarding friendships that I've had in a long time, because you are loyal, brilliant and funny, not to mention a little mischievous, which is exactly the combo needed to win my friendly affections.

And then last week happened, and I found out what you've done.

Now let me explain to you what made me so mad.

It wasn't jealousy, I wish it was that easy. That somehow I am in love with you and this is nothing but the reaction of a jilted lover. Had that been the case, I would've just not spoke to you again. Been in enough relationships to understand that little trick. No, unfortunately to your ego, I had no love for you beyond that of deep friendship, which is what makes this so very complicated.

It wasn't that you lied to me, even though that pisses me off to no end. It maybe part of it, the part that adds the insult to the injury, and that prevents the trust from coming back. You are a very good liar and I knew that from the beginning, but I thought that there wouldn't be lying between us. It wasn't necessary. I learned your entire history and didn't flinch and you know it. But now I understand why you've done it, and I now know that it will be a part of our dynamic whether I like it or not, or whether you promise me you wouldn't do it again or didn't. I now know that you will lie to me, that you would have to for the main reason for which I am mad at you. It's because you will continue finding ways to be self destructive, to fuck yourself up, and you will try your best to hide that from the people that care about you.

It's not who he is kiddo, even though you know I despise him. It was that you weren't protected, every single time, and you know better. You know how dirty he is, and you know what you could catch and what you could put yourself in, and yet you went and did it anyway, time and time again, while telling me that it was only the one time, or that it was a few time but a long time ago, or any of those other lies you would tell me to justify what you did. And the thing is, nobody talks about the important of being safe in that department more than you, and yet there you go. You went for it anyway despite all of your speeches about it. And then you go and tell me that there is no such thing as safe-sex anyway. Yakhy A77a! Had I done what You did with someone of equal dirtiness that same amount of time you wouldn't even shake hands with me. Hell, I wouldn't shake hands with me.

But alas, it's done, and what is left are the repercussions for both of us. I am not condemning you for getting some from a manwhore, I am mad as hell at you for not protecting yourself when doing it, over and over again. And it wasn't till later on that I realized that this had nothing to do with the sex and everything to do with making a big mistake. With being self destructive. That you were not done by a long shot, and this puts me in a very awkward position, because I took an oath to myself that I wouldn't care, truly care, for anybody who is self destructive. That such a relationship would cost you time and effort and emotional investment, but at the end it wouldn't be worth it. The problem is, I already care for you. I am already close to you, which puts me in quite the predicament.

You are my bestfriend and worst enemy at the same time, because you deliberately hurt my best friend - whom I am very protective of- and there is nothing that I can do to stop you! If I continue being your bestfriend I will either have to fight with you every time you do a similar act, or would have to be content with the fact that you would be doing such things and lying to me about them, and both options suck. My other two options are either to scale down our friendship and move you to category B, which would mean I would make deliberate efforts to distance myself from you and no longer really care about you and what you do to yourself, or I would have to not know you anymore, just kick you our of my life and leave you to your self-inflicted misery and self-destructive tendencies, chalk this up to another lesson learned, and become like my friend E and not let anyone in the A category anymore. She tells me that caring for people, truly caring for people, is an unnecessary risk taken for usually unworthy candidates, and I am starting to think that she might be correct on that one.

So as you can see, all of my options suck, either always fight with you, or let you lie to me, or put an effort to back off or get rid of you all together. There is always the 5th option, which involves you promising not to engage in such self-destructive behavior again, but we both know you can't do that, and even if you did, I wouldn't believe you because of how good of a liar you are. It's a 5-sided trap with no way out and I don't know what to do, but my defense - mechanism seems to know, because it's been kicking into motion option # 3, and I can slowly watch it forcing me to distance myself from you, even when I personally don't want to.

And this is why I am mad at myself. The great heartless bastard can not just toss you aside like he does to anybody that even threatens to upset his cozy existence or ruffles his emotional stability. I am trying to fight it as hard as I can, which is why I am so grouchy, why I am giving you so much shit, hoping to see some sort of an emotional reaction from you: some anger, or some regret, anything that shows that you care about yourself. A glimpse of hope that let's me believe that you are worth it, and that I shouldn't back out of your life like I am doing right now. But so far you've given me nothing, hell, you just told me that if we are going to hang out tonight we shouldn't talk about this, because it would just upset you. And I was planning on telling you all of this today, but since you don't want to get into it, I guess I won't go there. You want this topic closed, and so does my defense mechanism, so I will oblige you and not tell you any of this. Your wish is my command.

It's just, this is the saddest of moments, because you are arriving very soon, and I know that the person you will meet will not be the same person who is writing those words. That the person you will sit with and talk to who will look like me and will tell you my stories and crack my jokes is not the same person that you've got to know and care about, because that person will be dead by then. This is, in many ways, his eulogy.

Best of luck sweetie, and take care now, and know that until the last minute I had nothing but love for you!

Goodbye,

SM

A prayer

2007-05-26T06:48:00.000-07:00

I hope that God saves you, because I don't think I can!

Self's the man

2007-05-10T15:14:00.000-07:00

Oh, no one can deny
That Arnold is less selfish than I.
He married a woman to stop her getting away
Now she's there all day,

And the money he gets for wasting his life on work
She takes as her perk
To pay for the kiddies' clobber and the drier
And the electric fire,

And when he finishes supper
Planning to have a read at the evening paper
It's Put a screw in this wall -
He has no time at all,

With the nippers to wheel round the houses
And the hall to paint in his old trousers
And that letter to her mother
Saying Won't you come for the summer.

To compare his life and mine
Makes me feel a swine:
Oh, no one can deny
That Arnold is less selfish than I.

But wait, not do fast:
Is there such a contrast?
He was out for his own ends
Not just pleasing his friends;

And if it was such a mistake,
He still did it for his own sake,
Playing his own game.
So he and I are the same,
Only I'm a better hand
At knowing what I can stand!

Philip Larkin

quotes

2007-04-26T01:42:00.000-07:00

"You are an ideal to me. Someone I wish I could be with but can't!"
"I just need time to think about things. Don't read too much into it"

"I gave it my all. I opened up to her. But she is confused right now, and I am partly to blame."

"You should just play. Stop trying to control things that are out of your hand."

"How is being anti-social and depressed going for you?"
"I said goodbye to her today. I needed to handle this mess once and for all, and this just gave me the energy and the boost for it!"

" You don't understand the image you project, do you? Or how they view you? You don;t get how much you mindfuck everyone else in that circle? You are a source of great confusion for them. It's what makes you so intriguing!"

"you know that if it's a choice between you and her, that she would choose you, right?"

"I figured out why you are friends with him. He is smarter than you, and you love him for it!"

"I asked you for 2 things, and I never asked you for anything. And you still couldn't do it!"

"I don't envision someone who wouldn't want to be with you! You are perfect. You make me feel safe!"

"You think she will see it?"
"You know that she is probably doing this to piss you off. Oh, and she is bored. Don't forget that!"
"It's not only that"
"Then what is it?"
"She wants to prove she has a bigger penis than mine. I say let her. She will learn her lesson!"

"You don't need anything. Howcome you never need or ask for anything? That is so annoying!"

"Everytime i try to shift through the mess another pile gets created."
"Maybe you are just a mess magnet."

"Don't try to be the innocent one. You can pretend in front of all of them, but not me! Do you want to revisit your last 2 relationships?"

"Everything you are, all the good things about you, you learned from your father."
"You don't know what you are saying!"

"What do YOU want?"

"You should walk away! Walk away Now. Anything else you do will make you guilty!"

"Why can't relationships be like what we see on TV. Boy meets girl, they like each other, Life is perfect! Why does it have to be so twisted in real life?"

Far away

2007-04-02T05:34:00.000-07:00

I am lying in my bed, writing this, finally alone. It's finally silent around here. It hasn't been silent for days and days.

I need air to breathe...

Things have been complicated around here. Random factors jumbeling up together, random people getting entangled into each others' lives, Skeletons coming out of closets, alive, forcing me to confront relaities and pasts that I do not wish to relive or examine.

And through it all I miss you.

It's been forever since I've heard your voice, your sweet giddy laugh. It sure as hell feels like forever, even though I know that, measured in time and days, it hasn't been that long.

But I still miss you.

I know it's not hard to reach you. That you are a phone call away. That my call would be welcome, that I will get to hear the warmth in your voice that sends shivers down my spine despite of how cool and distant i try to sound, that I will end the phone call unwillingly, hating my cell's battery and its refusal to last more than 3 houres of continious talking time. And more than anything, hating the distance and oceans between us, and how I can not comfort you when your demons come knocking on your door, or hold you in my arms when you are upset or scared.

But that's the way it is.

The truth is, I keep wasting time. All the things I do, all the games I play, all the relationships and the messes I get myself involved in.. they are just someting to pass the time with. Something to fill the void I sense in my days without you...

..until the day comes when it's no longer empty!

Can't wait!

E-mail from my friend M.

2007-03-12T04:55:00.000-07:00

I've been doing some thinking lately...here are some of my thoughts a bit influenced by my past week.

Thoughts on a fickle heart and a stubborn mind

Nobody likes to be lonely all the time and when somebody strikes us as fascinating we become curious to know more about them. The head gives them a chance…but the heart is not won over that way.

As a Gemini is ruled by intellect it is not in tune with its feelings rather thinks them through. That is why I think a challenge (mentally) is stimulating.

Sometimes we get overwhelmed by emotions…out of nowhere and feel lost and don’t know what to do. The mind takes a step back and just relaxes.

That is what happened to me last weekend my friend. After a bad date I went over my neighbors house and we fucked each other crazy for hours. It was awesome because I felt so free…my brain was off and disappeared. I felt everything, I don’t remember anything. I swear my body and his body were emanating this energy that I could feel without touching him. He could understand me, and I could understand him and I took his cues gladly.

This doesn’t mean anything serious such as a relationship rather we enjoyed each other’s company.

I think as a Gemini its nice to take a break from the mental challenge that is so natural with every meeting of the opposite sex. The banter to see if they can ‘handle’ being with a bull shitter, fickle, always moving, always full of anxiety…if they step up to the challenge then its worth to give them a try.

You asked me: How did you stay in a loveless relationship? I did love him and that is why I stayed. I loved him in an appreciative way, like a good friend, not a lover. It was comfortable that I didn’t have to move and look for someone else and I made myself believe that was love was. I never knew what love was so I assumed it to be so.

Regarding each of your girlfriends maybe they each stimulate your brain (also the satisfaction of variety) and not the emotions inside you. Its possible you need to find is someone who stimulates your emotions to the core, and who can understand and accept you without judgment. A person that you can just be with and just be happy with without holding back. Don’t let it get to you Sam, you may be naughty lover sometimes but doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. You’re just very brainy and curious.

I know you have a lot to give and it may be building up inside you. I hope you find someone you can share that with.

Excuse my ranting I’m still in lala land…you should find the song “tear you apart” (During my impromptu sexcapades we fucked to that song at his computer desk and did what some of the lyrics said as it played hehehe)

I love sex!

Change

2007-03-10T15:42:00.000-08:00

We write our own destiny, sure: that doesn't mean you can't see it coming, like a huge wave on the ocean. Everything that happens in this story is fate, unfolding out of itself. If you were to see somebody realize they already know everything that's about to happen, it would look like time moving forward. It would look like this. The wooden dialogue actually adds to the effect: every "realization" you have, moving forward on the tide, is just another level of acceptance. It will get you between the eyes with it, in the end; but think about it, like hearing a sound across the ocean, getting closer. Like hearing an ordinary girl declare herself an angel a thousand times before you can admit the possibility.

If you could admit what was going to happen -- if you knew your fate, consciously, and how it keeps the world turning -- who knows what you'd do differently? Sometimes it's better to just close your eyes, especially when the Gods are involved. God has very bad manners most of the time, but this is one thing you can count on: nothing you can't handle until precisely the point that you can handle it. Until the bugs stop jumping and you realize there was never anything to be scared of, after all. This is how change works, all change: it feels like dying because it is.

The Blackhole

2007-03-09T07:11:00.000-08:00

She tells me that she has a dilemma.

Almost everyone she's been involved with has told her that she is cold, she says. That's their reason, their excuse, the one thing they all agree on, she says.

And they are not always wrong about it, she also says.

Confessions abound, and story after story is told and they are almost always the same. Those she gets she doesn't end up wanting to keep, and those that she wants always end up leaving her. And she is so nice to them by then, so sweet, that it doesn't make sense for them to leave her. But they do. They always do.

She can't figure it out, she says!

She also tells me that she is attracted to my warmth. That there is something about me that's comforting. Something that she wants to be close to. And after spending some time with her, I am not sure I am willing to do that at all. It got too cold too quick, and even I couldn't totally handle it.

You see, it's not that she is cold. She just doesn't generate heat, and needs to draw it in her. She is just like a Blackhole, attracting all the warmth and the light to it, and doesn't give it back. It's all one way with her, and her gravatational pull will suck all of your energy in and leave you freezing in the cold. All the heat in the world wouldn't make it warmer one tiny bit, even if it looks this way.

And it's the hardest thing to deal with, to be given a warm smile and not be able to feel it. It's like a hologram of fire: just looks like the real thing, but don't expect it to keep you warm at night. No wonder some people run away: To be given all the right moves and sounds to show love and affection yet somehow you don't even feel it, well, sooner or later you will believe it to be fake. That she is just another liar, and this is just another make-belief relationship where you get used. It couldn't be further from the truth, but there is no evidence to back that up. So who can blame them from walking away? And who can convince them to stay, when staying could mean certain destruction?

The way a blackhole works is simple: It used to be a sun. A cenetr of light and heat. A Natural nuclear reactor. And then one day it shut down. It died. It collapsed upon itself, and it started to attract every single piece of light to it, where it would be sucked in and forever dissappear. It's gravatational pull said to be so strong that not a single force in the world can pull you back once it has you, and not a single being or planet or metal can survive it once it sucks you in. It attracts you, and it destroys you, and the worst thing is, there is no escaping it once you are close enough to its orbit. It draws you in, opens up to you like an old friend, gives you its embrace and ends up sucking the warmth out of you, depleting you, until there is nothing left in you for it to want. And it doesn't do this because it's evil or hell bent on destroying everything. There is no cruelty or malice involved in this. It's just the way Blackholes work. It's in their nature!

You just gotta accept that, or, if you can't handle it, you should run away like all the rest. Either way, you can't help but feel betrayed! That it wasn't supposed to be this way!

The thing is though, every Black hole used to be a sun, until something turned it off. The Process is until now irreversable, but that doesn't mean it's not possible. It's all a matter of figuring out the factor that made it go supernova and die. If you can figure it out, then you could fix it, and have a sun all to yourself.

Or maybe, just maybe, this is all just a test.

Maybe it works like that as a way for the Blackhole to weed out the unworthy. It's must be hard to have such a strong gravitational pull: all kinds of things must get attracted to it, and the majority of which must be rubbish, thus has to be destroyed. Maybe, just maybe, every Blackhole is just waiting for that special something that can pass through its gravitational pull and doesn't get destroyed, and comes in contact with it and manages to keep its heat. It would take something really strong and special to be able to do that, something worthy. Maybe that's what this is all about. And when that day comes, the gravatational pull will stop , the destruction will cease, and the Blackhole will be satisfied, having found its exclusive heat center.

But until that day comes, the status que will remain. The Blackhole will attract anything and everything that comes in its path, hoping to quench a hunger that's never satisfied. And everyone will fear it, and try to keep their distance, otherwise it will just turn them cold and then destroys them.

Cause that's the way Blackholes work!

Judgment

2006-12-25T10:25:00.000-08:00

I told her that one day we will figure out all of her emotions towards me. That one day we, together, will figure out what this is all about.

She approcahes me with a strange mix of affection and disdain. Like she can't believe that she likes me despite all that I stand for. Or maybe she just can't stand me for knowing her so well.

And she is not alone....

I seem to inspire this feeling amongst many of my female friends, and they are usually the ones that come over and spill all at my feet: All their lies, deceits, and hidden desires. All of their "sins", so to speak. It's because I do not judge them that they come to me for confession, and it's also because I refuse to judge them afterwards they seem to hate me. They know I can offer them no absolution, that any confession is supposed to inspire judgment in me. Suppsoed to make me view them as the big bad sinners they are. They all wanna be acknowledged for their sluttiness or cruelty. They want to be viewed as bad. For what is a greater aim of a man than to be regarded as a great sinner?

But I don't judge...

It's all the same to me....

And that's the most offensive part they find of me.

They seem to say: How dare you not judge me? How dare you not recognize how fucked up I am? Tell me I am screwed in the head. That I am a whore. Give me that satisfaction and acknowledgment. Say it to me, so that I can stop saying it to myself. For however cruel your judgment is, it's not as cruel as the one practiced on me by my own mind.

I don't know why I am attracted to them. Why I am so emotionally available for them. Something about filling a bucket that has a hole in it with water. You know that all the oceans of the world won't fill it, but it's fun to try anyway.

She amuses me because of how similar we are in some aspects, and the fact that she knows it and that it scares the shit out of her. She is not alone in that department either, nor is her fear unjustified! She knows how bored I am, and knowing the lengths a person will go to stop being bored, she fears the day when I will spill it all out because I had nothing better to do. She doesn't get that I won't do that because there is nothing amusing about showing the world someone else's scars. Just not my idea of fun!

I seek inspiration, and they offer me the mundane. They confess their little secrets as if they are the most horrible thing in the world. They expect this process to shame them. They believe that there is shame in taking the wrong choice, in actually living while committing one mistake after the other. They are wrong.

It's for greater knowledge of themselves they come to me, and it's because of that knowledge they run away afterwards. Of all the things that scares them, it's their truths that scares them the most. They are used to taking off their cloths in front of others, but they are not used to seeing themselves naked, especially through the eyes of a stranger. One that refuses to Judge them.

It is an insult of the highest degree, isn't it? To see the muck inside your soul and not hate you for it? How dare I make no judgments upon you? How dare I not call you a crazy fucked up Bitch, which is the way you view yourself? How dare I tell you that your sins don't matter, when you worked so hard for them? You paid for those dearly, and you want me to tell you that the value was worth the price. You want me to gaze at you with cruel eyes and acrebic tongue and lay a symphony of vicious insults of how you are lower than filth. You want punishment. You are but one of a million little girls still looking for Daddy to come home and spank them for being naughty. If only Daddy agrees to play along...

There is no hope for them. No salvation nor redemption. They seek atonement for crimes that they wish to be proud of, and then wonder why it all doesn't work. They inner masochist working them over time, demanding them to release more disdain, more hate, more anger towards me, and cover it up with some other flimsy reason. They want a fight. A blow-out of massive proportions where I use every little secret they told me against them. They want to see me enraged. In a way they want me to punish them. I just want them to grow up.

To be honest, only like 4 women I know can be called evolved. Accepters of their own sins. Makers of their own Moral code. Disconnected with society and its rules of civilized behavior, the same rules that breed Hypocrisy in people like a plague. They expect no Judgment, they offer no apology. They are the way they are. Like 'em or hate 'em, this won't change!

And I can't help but admire their defiance. Their unapologetic amorality. Their ability to be ok with their choices, no matter what they have been through. Those are women. The rest are just whiney insecure little girls.

No wonder they are the ones that inspire me the most!

Believe me

2006-08-29T06:39:00.000-07:00

I guess
That this is where we've come to
If you don't want to
Then you don't have to
Believe me

But I
Won't be there when you go down
Just so you know now
You're on your own now
Believe me

Yo
I don't wanna be the one to blame you
Like fun and games
Keep playin' 'em
I'm just sayin-
Think back then
We was like one in the same
On the right track
But I was on the wrong train
It's like that
Now you gotta face the pain
And the devil's got a fresh new place to play
In your brain
Like a maze
You can never escape
The rain
Every damn day's the same shade of grey

Hey
I used to have a little bit of a plan
Use ta'
Have a concept of where I stand
But that concept slipped right outta my hand
And now
I don't really even know who I am
Yo
What do I have to say
Maybe I should do
What I have to do to break free
'N whatever happens to you
We'll see
But it's not gonna happen with me

I guess
That this is where we've come to
If you don't want to
Then you don't have to
Believe me

But I
Won't be there when you go down
Just so you know now
You're on your own now
Believe me

Back then
I thought you were just like me
Somebody who could see all the pain I see
But you
Proved to me unintentionally
That you would self destruct eventually
Now I'm thinkin' like the mistake I made doesn't hurt
But its not gonna work
'Cause it's really much worse
Than I thought
I wished you were something you were not
And now this guilt is really all that I got

You turn your back
And walk away in shame
All you got
Is a memory 'a pain
Nothin' makes sense
You jus' stare at the ground
I hear my voice in your head
When no one else is around
So what do I have to say
Maybe I should do
What I have to do
To break free
Man
'N whatever happens to you
We'll see
But it's not gonna happen with me

I guess
That this is where we've come to
If you don't want to
Then you don't have to
Believe me

But I
Won't be there when you go down
Just so you know now
You're on your own now
Believe me

My peeps

2006-03-26T02:57:00.000-08:00

You know You have the right kind of alcoholic friends when you get a message like this one:

Alcoholic Beverages Northwest accepts alcoholic beverages in sealed retail packaging or in receptacles not exceeding 5 liters as carry-on luggage or checked luggage. Passengers may carry a total quantity of 5 liters of alcohol per person. Note: Alcohol containing over 70% alcohol by volume will not be accepted.

Problemo!

Hehehe...

Life

2006-03-08T01:48:00.000-08:00

Sitting.
Staring.
Thinking.
Pondering.
Hoping.
Dreaming.
Wishing.
Trying.
Realizing.
Crashing.
Running.
Crying.
Concealing.
Faking.
Smiling.
Repeating.

Bill Maher rules

2006-03-07T03:44:00.000-08:00

"Suicide is our way of saying to God, 'You can't fire me, I quit!'"

Bill Maher

So True

2006-03-07T03:32:00.000-08:00

Television is the first truly democratic culture - the first culture available to everybody and entirely governed by what the people want. The most terrifying thing is what people do want.

Clive Barnes

My Dilemma

2006-03-07T03:25:00.000-08:00

I want to chnage the world...

It just sucks that I will have to get off my lazy ass to do it.

They may have it good

2006-03-07T03:08:00.000-08:00

You know how when you are high you feel stupid?

Do you think that's how stupid people feel all the time?

How much would being smart suck then?

Symphonie

2006-03-06T02:34:00.000-08:00

Sag mir was ist bloß um uns geschehn
Du scheinst mir auf einmal völlig fremd zu sein
Warum geht's mir nich mehr gut
Wenn ich in deinen Armen liege
Ist es egal geworden was mit uns passiert

Wo willst du hin ich kann dich kaum noch sehn
Unsre Eitelkeit stellt sich uns in den Weg
Wollten wir nich alles wagen haben wir uns vielleicht verraten
Ich hab geglaubt wir könnten echt alles ertragen

Symphonie
Und jetzt wird es still um uns
Denn wir stehn hier im Regen haben nichts mehr zu geben
Und es ist besser wenn du gehst

Denn es ist Zeit
Sich ein zu gestehn dass es nicht geht
Es gibt nichts mehr zu reden denn wenn's so regnet
Ist es besser aufzugeben

Und es verdichtet sich die Stille über uns
Ich versteh nich ein Wort mehr aus deinem Mund
Haben wir zu viel versucht warum konnten wir's nicht ahnen
Es wird nicht leicht sein das alles einzusehn

Symphonie
Und jetzt wird es still um uns
Denn wir stehn hier im Regen haben uns nichts mehr zu geben
Und es ist besser wenn du gehst

Denn es ist Zeit
Sich ein zu gestehn dass es nicht geht
Es gibt nichts mehr zu reden denn wenn's so regnet
Ist es besser aufzugeben

Irgendwo sind wir gescheitert
Und so wie's ist so geht's nich weiter
Das Ende ist schon lang geschrieben
Und das war unsre...

Symphonie
Und jetzt wird es still um uns
Denn wir stehn hier im Regen haben uns nichts mehr zu geben
Und es ist besser wenn du gehst

Denn es ist Zeit
Sich ein zu gestehn dass es nicht geht
Es gibt nichts mehr zu reden denn wenn's so regnet
Ist es besser aufzugeben

Silbermond, Symphonie (English translation here)

Rise and Fall

2006-02-21T00:55:00.000-08:00

I always said that I was gonna make it,
Now it's plain for everyone to see,
But this game I'm in don't take no prisoners,
Just casualties,
I know that everything is gonna change,
Even the friends I knew before me go,
But this dream is the life I've been searching for,
Started believing that I was the greatest,
My life was never gonna be the same,
Cause with the money came a different status,
That's when things change,
Now I'm too concerned with all the things I own,
Blinded by all the pretty girls I see,
I'm beginning to lose my integrity

Sometimes in life you feel the fight is over,
And it seems as though the writings on the wall,
Superstar you finally made it,
But once your picture becomes tainted,
It's what they call,
The rise and fall!

I want you to remember this moment

2006-02-10T16:52:00.000-08:00

This is the moment when everything is going to start to go wrong!

Fans :)

2006-02-09T11:21:00.000-08:00

Kj (9:02:12 PM): But as I say, well done, you! I will eat some havarti in your name this very day.

Kj (9:02:18 PM): served on a Lego plate.

superior Soul (9:02:37 PM): nice

Kj (9:02:41 PM): What do you do when you're not blogging?

superior Soul (9:02:47 PM): Business

superior Soul (9:02:49 PM): Finance

superior Soul (9:02:55 PM): anyway

Kj (9:02:56 PM): <-- TV producer/writer/researcher

superior Soul (9:02:57 PM): i gtg

superior Soul (9:02:59 PM): ttyl?

Kj (9:03:02 PM): You go, boy

superior Soul (9:03:04 PM): nice

superior Soul (9:03:06 PM): where?

Kj (9:03:06 PM): ttyl

Kj (9:03:10 PM): Inside the Actors Studio

Kj (9:03:11 PM): In NYC

superior Soul (9:03:14 PM): lol

superior Soul (9:03:16 PM): hehe

superior Soul (9:03:19 PM): not james Lipton

superior Soul (9:03:20 PM): lol

superior Soul (9:03:22 PM): lol

Kj (9:03:23 PM): i work for him

Kj (9:03:24 PM): Yes

superior Soul (9:03:28 PM): that's great

Kj (9:03:35 PM): Your blog was sent to me by John Podhoretz

superior Soul (9:03:40 PM): tell him mad props for his rendition of popozao

Kj (9:03:47 PM): Word up, baby!

superior Soul (9:03:53 PM): who is John podhoretz?

Kj (9:03:56 PM): J-Lip indahouz!

Kj (9:04:02 PM): He writes for the Corner on the National Review

Kj (9:04:13 PM): he's sort of a libertarianish neoish con guy

Kj (9:04:37 PM): And Lippy's a bit of a Lefty

superior Soul (9:04:51 PM): ohhhh

superior Soul (9:04:54 PM): fgotcha

Kj (9:04:55 PM): One quick question before you go: HOW THE HELL DO YOU SURVIVE DRIVING ON CAIRO STREETS?!

superior Soul (9:05:04 PM): I don't

superior Soul (9:05:09 PM): I take cabs

superior Soul (9:05:13 PM): I ain't crazy

Kj (9:05:14 PM): Good. Man, them cairo drivers are NUTZ

superior Soul (9:05:22 PM): nor do I desire the extra headaches and stress

superior Soul (9:05:26 PM): that they are

superior Soul (9:05:31 PM): we drive like fish swim

Kj (9:05:42 PM): Arright. Smoke a quick bowla hooka for me, pally

Kj (9:05:55 PM): And rock on witcho bad sef

Kj (9:06:02 PM): as t'wee

Kj (9:06:06 PM): twere

superior Soul (9:06:25 PM): ok

superior Soul (9:06:27 PM): lata

superior Soul (9:06:34 PM): and popozao

Kj (9:06:40 PM): BRING DAT ASS!

Kj (9:06:44 PM): siggghhhh

The Blower's daughter

2006-02-07T09:07:00.000-08:00

And so it is
Just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time
And so it is (he has)
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her sky

I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...

And so it is (he has)
Just like you said it should be
We'll both forget the breeze
Most of the time
And so it is (he has)
The colder water
The blower's daughter
The pupil in denial

I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...

Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say you better want to
Leave it all behind?

I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind...
My mind...my mind...
'Til I find somebody new

Damien Rice, The Blower's daughter

Such a good movie

2006-02-06T07:33:00.000-08:00

Dan: I want Anna back.
Larry: She's made her choice.
Dan: I owe you an apology. I fell in love with her. My intention was not to make you suffer.
Larry: So where's the apology? Ya cunt.
Dan: I apologize. If you love her you'll let her go so she can be happy.
Larry: She doesn't want to be happy.
Dan: Everybody wants to be happy.
Larry: Depressives don't. They want to be unhappy to confirm they're depressed. If they were happy they couldn't be depressed anymore. They'd have to go out into the world and live. Which can be depressing.
Dan: You love her like a dog loves its owner.
Larry: And the owner loves the dog for so doing.
Dan: You'll hurt her. You'll never forgive her.
Larry: Of course I'll forgive her. I *have* forgiven her. Without forgiveness we're savages. You're drowning.

Closer

Hold Ya Head

2006-01-29T03:30:00.000-08:00

When I die, fuck it I wanna go to hell
Cause I'm a piece of shit, it ain't hard to fuckin' tell
It don't make sense, goin' to heaven wit' the goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black Tims and black hoodies
God will probably have me on some real strict shit
No sleepin' all day, no gettin my dick licked
Hangin' with the goodie-goodies loungin' in paradise
Fuck that shit, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
All my life I been considered as the worst
Lyin' to my mother, even stealin' out her purse
Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion
I know my mother wished she got a fuckin' abortion

I swear to God I just want to slit my wrists and end this bullshit
Throw the Magnum to my head, threaten to pull shit
And squeeze, until the bed's, completely red
I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless fuckin' buddah head
The stress is buildin' up, I can't,
I can't believe suicide's on my fuckin' mind
I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is fuckin' callin' me
Naw you wouldn't understand
You see its kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack
Except when I cross over, there ain't no comin' back
Should I die on the train track, like Remo in Beatstreet
People at the funeral frontin' like they miss me
My baby momma kissed me but she glad I'm gone
She knew me and her sister had somethin' goin' on
I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes?
Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies.

Biggie

eulogy

2006-01-22T00:28:00.000-08:00

Fuck the poets of the past, my friends.
There are no beautifull suicides
just cold corpses with shit in their pants,
and the end of gifts.

Post secret

Can anyone tell me what this dream means?

2005-12-18T01:11:00.000-08:00

*This is the dream I had last night. If you have an explanation, please let me know.*

I was at a friend's house, and it was time to go. He tells me that he will drive me home, I refuse, telling him that I will find my own ride. He tells me to watch out though, because "the Iranians are losing it". I nodd my head in agreement as if I know what that means, and I go downstairs.

I am in Egypt, and it looks like the main street that cuts through ghamrah towards the Ain Shams University. Except that there were buildings where the secre-cure school is. The street in fact looked nothing like the main street in ghamrah,with all the shops and lights and cars gone, but somehow I knew that this was it. It was darker though, more gothic, had that Sin City feel to it. And the street was empty.

As I crossed to the other side of the street I realized that there was someone standing there, but behind me, just barely registering in my prepherial vision. It was a woman, she had blone hair. I looked around, and there she was: Marjore. Standing in the street, smiling, and she said to me "I thought you would never come!"

I smiled and moved towards her. We hugged. I asked her what she was doing in Egypt, and in typical marjore fashion she went "Well, ya know, just visit-iiiiiiiing. Sight see-iiing. Doin my thing. Ya know?". I asked her, why didn't she tell me she was coming, she tells me "I wanted to make it a surprise!" smilingly. So I ask her, what now? and she says:

"Now we are going to a first class bar so we can party. And you are taking me!"

It sounds like a good idea, so I agree, and I start waving to stop the upcoming taxicab. It stops, the guy gets out, and starts running. Marjore gets in the backseat and I look at the car and realize that this is not a Taxi at all. It's a black Mercedes with diplomatic plates saying that it belongs to the iranian embassy. I get inside the backseat next to marj saying "This is all wrong!", but before I can do anything the doors are closed and two figures jump in the front seats. Eblis was one of them, and he was the one who sat in the driver seat.

"Ready to go, Sam?" he says to me with a smile. Before I say anything he puts his foot on the paddle and starts driving really fast. I start to object: "But this isn't our car Eblis. This car doesn't belong to us. The Police will come after us. We need to get out now."

He smiles at me, and the car going so fast it jumps as we are agoing up a bridge and it slams to the ground at the other side, screeching and halting somewhere over the sidewalk. But this sidewalk is weird because it had huge holes in it. More like Sqaures, and they had a pattern. It was like we were parked on a giant waffle, only granite-colored.

And the police sirens start wailing.

Eblis points towards the sirens direction, and we can see one police car coming our way, lights flashing and everything. We agree that's it's time to go, and we get out of the car and leave, but not before I notice that there was this other older woman now, dressed in white and has dark brown hair, sitting in the backseat. She was weeping. Somehow I knew that it was because this was her car, and she went to a place that she didn't want to go because we took her there. But it doesn't matter, because we leave anyway, towards the end of the street. That's where the light is coming from.

We walk hastily in that direction, but we are not exactly running, nor are we worried about the police anymore. We are heading towards a doorway, where people are coming and going, and on our way to it we see this other opening on our right. There is light there too, but it's a dead end, with 3 people, 2 guys and a girl, dressed in Pijamas, were sitting there playing with dolls. They ask us to come in and join them. Something feels wrong about them, so we say no and go on our way to pass the door, which is 2 feet away now.

As I walk through the doorway I see Yara walking out and with Sally in her hand. I wave hi to them and ask them why they are leaving. Sally looks at me and tells me :"It's not our kind of party. Where you are going you won't find us."She then gives me a weak smile and keeps on walking behind Yara.

I can see that the 3 people I am with have taken this door on the left, and I intended to follow them but people from my past kept coming from my right and saying hi to me. First it was Stacey and Cindy, whom I both greeted and then came Kev with Karen and John behind him. Kev was extra friendly with me, kissing me on both cheeks and taking his time. It felt very weird. But I ignored him cause I was happy to see Karen. Karen didn't seem that happy to see me.

I asked her what was wrong, and she tells me with a sardonic smile "After those pictures You took, it's really great being your friend. Really!". I tell her that I don't understand and she looks at me as if I have 4 eyes and then walks away after giving me a kiss on the cheek. She then dissappears and suddenly I am alone again. I decide it was time I took that door on the left and see where Marj and the boys have gone.

That hallway i stepped into was a complete change of scenery. It wasn't old and gothic and dark like everything else. It was new, new-age industrial, metally and shiny. There was light everywhere and everything was made out of blue and silver Metal, but nobody there but Marj, standing alone, smoking a ciggarette. I ask her what's going on.

"We are at the place. This is where we will party. This is where we will dance."

I look around, and i am again confirmed that we are alone. I tell her that.

"But nothing is here. No one is here."

"It doesn't matter", she said, "You are going to dance anyway."

She then puffs the smoke in my face....

and I wake up in cold sweat.

Just think about it!

2005-12-12T02:39:00.000-08:00

Discouragement is dissatisfaction with the past, distaste for the present, and distrust of the future. It is ingratitude for the blessings of yesterday, indifference to the opportunities of today, and insecurity of the strength of tomorrow. It is unawareness of the presence of beauty, unconcern for the needs of our fellow man, and disbelief in the promises of old. It is impatience with time, immaturity of thought, and impoliteness to God.

Dr. William A Ward

Give me something

2005-12-11T02:03:00.000-08:00

My lifelong problem is that I am greedy, or at least I haven't found a better word to describe that feeling more accurately. Let me try to elaborate so you can get what I am talking about here. It's as simple as this: I always feel as if I never get what I want, but I always get what I need. And while that's better than nothing, the fact that this keeps on repeating- especially at inappropriate times- pisses me the fuck off.

Wait, I can be clearer.

Imagine that you went to a place for lunch, where they promised you the perfect pizza. That sounds great to you, especially that you are famished. The Pizza arrives, and while it's not bad, it's not the "perfect pizza". You eat it begrudgingly, pissed off that your expectations are shot to shit, but it's not exactly bad to the point where you wouldn't finish eating it, and when you are done eating it, you are no longer hungry. The Problem is solved, you got what you needed, but you can't help but feel cheated.

That has been my feeling all of my life: I always feel cheated.

Perfect example is my life right now: For the past year I have been feeling utterly helpless to do anything to change my life to the better on my own. My salary, while large by egyptian standards, is not enough for me to build my future with. My friends offerd no solace since they are all a bunch of spoiled self-involved brats whose biggest concern is in appearing in the next magazine and their biggest topic of discussion is the detailed list of why the Cairo Jazz Club is no longer "in". The Blogsphere offerd no escape nor solace either, since it has become so clique-y and there is so much in-fighting and resentment issues to an embaressing degree that is unseen in any of the other middle-east blogspheres. And while my other blog is successfull, writing it has been doing nothing but depress me lately. I laugh at how fucked the world is, but I can't help but feel utterly horrified at where we are heading, and how there seems no escape from the madness anywhere. The women in my life this past year were no help either, falling into one of 4 categories: psycho, fake, slutty, or plain emotionally unstable. But at the same time they amused me greatly and gave me something to help distract me from the monotony of living in the real world, but at times it was a cure that was worse of the disease. I haven't exactly been lonely at all, but I sometimes wonder if loneliness was such a bad alternative to the psycho circus that has been my love life for a good part of last year.

And then I made up my mind. That's it. I am going back to the states. I've had enough.

So I went and bought a ticket, and then suddenly everything changed.

Suddenly my love life was no longer filled with craziness, but with the love of a woman whose heart is so warm it scares me.

Suddenly money is no longer an issue for the most part. Some came my way and I am making more everyday.

Suddenly my shitty friends are gone and I have people who aren't campaigning to be posterboys/girls to the mentally challanged and whose company I actually enjoy.

And now everything is complicated again...

Had I decided to leave by June, then I would've left happily. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. This is no longer the case. Now I have a lot of things to lose. Now my life is not that bad at all. I am not satisfied, but I am not as miserable as I once was either. Things are ok. I can even claim that they are good.

FUCK! FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!

Add to that the fact that if I leave and things work out I won't be coming back for a long long time, and factor in the possible death of not 1 but 2 really close family members in the near future that, if I leave, I won't attend to or be there for and you have an inkling of a feeling of what I am dealing with emotionally.

Now let's run down the list, shall we:

If I leave now, I have to 1) destroy a relationship in which I am happy, 2) leave a job, that let's face it, requires nothing of me but pays me anyway, 3) Know that I won't be there for my Aunt and my Granny in their final days and 4) Feel like a coward for a long time to come for leaving Egypt and running away when it needs people like me to fight the flood of islamization that is about to sweep this country and sink it even further. That's the stuff in the negative column.

In the positive column of leaving, there the fact that 1) Me and the girl's relationship are doomed anyway, and the sooner it's destroyed the better for everyone involved, 2) The job I am leaving sucks anyway, and it would free me to pursue what I need to pursue, 3) It's not like my being there to grief is going to help things any and 4) I know that no matter what I do or say, I won't make a shitlick of a difference in this country and the state of entropy that is bound to ensue. Add to that the fact that I am getting really comfortable and that if I don't leave soon I never will , and you have an idea of why I am continuing to move forward with my leaving plans. I am looking for something to be.

But I still feel cheated.

I feel cheated because my life didn't get good here until I decided to leave. I feel cheated because suddenly I need to contemplate and ramble on in regards to something that was a no-brainer a few months ago. I feel cheated because I was told of my aunt's cancer, while she still hasn't been, and I have to pretend to be ok and joke with her, before bolting to my room and not spending time with her because I can't keep up the act for long and yet there is nothing I can do about it. I feel cheated because suddenly everything is messy, muddy, and nothing is black & white clear as it used to be, and that is happening right before I take such a life-changing decision.

I don't have what I want here, but now I am starting to get what I need, and I can't help but wonder if it's wise to throw it all away for the sake of the dream that kept me going for the past year. The dream of going back to my life before I came back. A world where my family's name doesn't matter, my family's social class doesn't matter, my religion doesn't matter. All that matters is what kind of head I have on my shoulder, and how hard I am willing to work to get what I want in life and how good I treat the people around me. That's what the US represents to me. Getting my piece of that famous dream, you know?

But..

But I can't help but fear that I am chasing a mirage though. That this is my life now, for better or worse. Just Get used to it. Get over it. Grow Up.

Give up is more like it!

Oh well...

So a family member gets cancer...

2005-11-28T14:31:00.000-08:00

I just discoverd today that my aunt has cancer. She has it in her bones. My father told me. The only people who know about it are my dad, me, my other aunt and my cancer-ridden aunt's son, my cousin. He is a doctor and he is the one who found out from the tests they conducted when she reported having back pains. My Aunt- his mother- doesn't know she has anything beyoned back-pain. Her cancer is probably incureable and she will die. He has to pretend every day to be completly normal around her, while he cries himself to sleep every night. The same applies to my other aunt who knows that her sister's days are numberd and who goes with her to the hospital for the tests she is conducting for her "back-pain". My aunt is dying and she doesn't know.

She is not the only one in the dark mind you: another aunt exists who can not be told, because she will probably get a heart-attack or tell my grandmother, who will most deifntely get a heart attack and die from hearing this news. My other cousins don't know as well, because we figure there is no reason to spread the misery around. Not to mention, the more who know the more likely they will tell her. And they don't want to tell her because they are afraid the shock may kill her on the spot or at least kill her spirit, and you want her in high spirits if there is a way to beat this thing as we all hope. But it's a fanatsy, we know this too. We know she is dying by the minute and she doesn't know. But we do.

Now, here is the question: Should we tell her at all? If you had such a terminal disease, that will kill you in a matter of months and to which has no cure, would you want to know? Would you really? I mean, we are all in the nihilistic sense dying by the minute, but we always assume we have time, because no one really knows when they will die. Except people with terminal illness. They get a time-table. An approximate deadline. You have about 6 months and then you will be gone. You will never see a loved one again. You will never get to see the wedding of that grandchild of yours. Hell, you won't even get to watch him/her reach 18. Would you want to know that your time is almost up while there is still so much to do and experience? Would that help in any way, to know that every passing day brings you closer to an end that you did not expect for at least another decade? Is that how you want to spend your last months on earth? Just knowing you will die soon and you are just waiting for it, with everyone around you giving you those looks of pity and loss through their tear-filled eyes?? Is that how you want to live your last months on the planet?

I don't know. I wouldn't want that. I know she has the right to know, but I am not sure it would be beneficial in any way for her to exercise that right. If anything, I don't want to be the person who tells her, nor would I want to see how she would look like after she finds out, because I know I won't be able to help crying while holding her and wishing she didn't have to die so soon. Just the thought of it brings tears to my eyes. I wouldn't want to do that to her. I wouldn't want to depress her like that. I wouldn't want that to be the way I spend her last days with her.

But the alternative is torture. To know that someone you love is dying by the minute, while they don't know. To watch them go through their daily lives, making plans and having hopes, while you know- YOU KNOW- that they probably won't live to see any of those plans come to fruition. To pretend to be normal around them, to joke with them about their back pain, to pretend not to know that within a few months her whole body will be ravaged by a merciless killer of a disease and there is aboslutely nothing you can do to stop it. Aghhhhhhhhh.... I can't decide which is worse.

It doesn't matter anyway. She is dying and there is nothing no one can do about it. That's all there is to it.

Sigh...

the dog will not leave the porch

2005-11-24T04:40:00.000-08:00

*This post is copied from Pamela's blog. I liked it that much, because I can relate to what she is talking about.*

There's a point, on a bad day, where you make calls. You make a stab at making plans because you don't want to be alone. Enough time goes by, and that desire passes. You find yourself hoping no one calls back because the thought of having to open your mouth and make conversation becomes overwhelming. You don't want to hear one more person say, What's wrong? So then you isolate. And sink further into your own head --which is the one place no one wants to be. You find yourself watching the clock, wishing for the hours to pass so it can be late enough to justify going to bed. You find yourself dreading bedtime because you probably won't sleep. You dread sleeping just as much. Sleeping means waking up and having to do it all over again.

You understand, intellectually, that nothing is that bad. You understand that many people, people you know and love, are dealing with unspeakable pain. You feel selfish for the way you feel. You can't feel otherwise. The very idea that you might feel good anywhere in the future is nonsense. You make the mistake of letting your mother hear it in your voice. She calls you six times in a day. You want to stop answering. She will worry. And call more. So you answer, and try to make your voice sound otherwise. It's exhausting.

I once heard Padgett Powell describe depression as the dog of loneliness. Others call it the beast. I call it a vicious, never-ending cycle.

So True.

Gotta love the Ladies man

2005-11-22T05:20:00.000-08:00

What is love? What is this longing in our heart for togetherness? Is not the sweetest flower of love have the fragrent aroma of fine fine diamonds? Does not the wind love the dirt? Is not love not unlike the unlikely not it is unliken to? Are you with someone tonight? Do not question your love. Take your lover by the hand and release the power within yourself. You heard me: release the power and tame the wild cosmos with a whisper. Conquer heaven with one intimate caress. That's right don't be shy: whip out everything you got and do it in the butt.

The Ladies man

Whedon Wisdom

2005-11-22T05:06:00.000-08:00

Remember to always be yourself. Unless you suck.

Joss Whedon

Edge

2005-11-21T07:40:00.000-08:00

The woman is perfected.
Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment,

The illusion of a Greek necessity

Flows in the scrolls of her toga,

Her bare Feet seem to be saying:

We have come so far, it is over.

Sylvia Plath

The Taxi experience

2005-11-20T05:53:00.000-08:00

So, you are one of the car-less unfortunate bastards who live in Cairo. Hi, I am one too. Like me you are likely to find the majority of the public-transportation facilities to be, ehh, lacking in them terms of treating its users as fellow human-beings. So you opt for the slightly more appealing experience: Taking a Taxi. But soon after you take one, you will discover to your horror that you just went from the Fire to the frying pan. Too harsh? Stop me when this sounds familiar…

First of all, the majority of taxis in Egypt are cars that are at least 15 years old, which means that they were purchased at a time when seatbelts were considered to be a luxury item in your car, you know, along with power-steering, and air-conditioning. If you can get one of them to stop for you and get you where you want to go (most of them won't), you will experience the ride of a lifetime: The seats are uncomfortable, the space is small, prayers and CD’s hanging next to each other from the rearview mirror, the windows have no handles. Ohh, and the decoration, we can’t forget the decoration. Nothing like a blue strobe light on top of your head, alongside the ice-cream truck tune that the driver set up so it starts every time he hits on the breaks to make your ride fun. And the ride is fun, you know, in an adrenaline-rush-oh-my-god-I-am gonna-die kind of way. The driving is – of course- horrible, and the driver will almost always choose the longest, most traffic packed route he could possibly take. It’s as if he wants you to suffer the discomfort of sitting in his car for the longest time possible.

But see, he doesn’t stop there. He starts to talk to you about the most useless topics (“The Mossad is financing Ruby. She is part of a Zionist conspiracy to make our youth horny and not pray!”), and you feel rude if you don’t converse back or at least nod your head. And if you just keep your mouth shut, the driver will start to punish you by turning the music/the Koran/the latest Amr Khaled tape louder. And if the Koran is playing you don’t dare to tell him to mute it or lower the volume, even if you have a headache, cause how is it possible that recitation of the Koran by some girly-voiced guy that is magnified and distorted horribly at the same time through the driver’s 1970’s speaker system contribute to your headache? Nonsense. But then the driver will start cursing the other drivers with the filthiest insults, while the Koran is playing, and you wonder why the guy has it on if he has such low respect to it. But alas, you just shake your head and let it slide, hoping the ride to be over soon.

And you think when the ride is finally over and you get where you wanted that your troubles are over, but they are not. It’s time to pay him, and there is nothing to end this fun experience like playing Taxi-driver mind-games. They go a little something like this: you will ask him how much he wants (cause the meter is naturally broken) and he will tell you with all sincerity that he will take whatever fare you give him. You will then proceed to give him an amount of money which he will of course deem to be insufficient and ask for at least an extra 5 pounds. And when you ask him why he didn’t just ask for that when you asked him how much the ride was, his response will be "Well, I didn’t want to say it just in case you were going to pay more"! Ohh, so you wanted to rob me? And if robbing is too harsh of a word, well, you wanted to con me? Ok, no problem. But explain to me this you immoral asshole: What the hell is that Koran/ Islamic teaching Tape playing all about then? Do you even listen to it? I am not sure, but I think it's pretty negative on robbing or conning people. I could be wrong, but I doubt it!

I hate Taxis in Egypt.

Suffer the little Bastards

2005-11-20T05:50:00.000-08:00

I don’t like children. There, I said it. It feels good to say it, especially since we live in a society that seemingly worships those little hell spawns. I have good reasons not to like the little critters: They are enforcing their agenda on me, and devaluing my way of life, and I will no longer stand quietly by and watch it. I am gonna say something about it. Children suck. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it. You are just too scared to admit it in public. Nope, not me. I will say it: I’ve had it up to here with your kids and I will not be silent any more about it.

You may ask yourselves: what does he have against children? Ohh, lordy, where do I begin? First of all, they are not as cute as you think they are. Actually, most of them are rather ugly and unpleasant looking. And they smell. I hate to tell you this, but they do. Like a mixture of Johnson baby lotion and poop. It’s very lovely.

Secondly, they are grossly irresponsible, with the running out into the streets without looking, going off with disreputable strangers and tying up the police force in fruitless searches, spreading disease with their dirty hands and mouths. They are little menacing creatures and they make the life of the rest of us adults hellish. It takes a village to raise a child you say? That’s just a saying dear. Us other villagers are busy.

Third of all, they are annoying. They yell all the time, they like to go into ridiculously long crying and screaming fits whenever you tell them to do something they don’t like, and they also seem to have a general affinity for exhibiting such obnoxious behavior in Movie theatres and in restaurants when I am there, and their parents always seem powerless to stop them. And yet they exhibit very outworldy hostility when I volunteer my services to shut their kids up or yell at them for them. I am sorry, but they are ruining my dinner. Please take them outside until they calm down or pass out from low sugar blood count. Just don’t give me the “What-do-you-want-me-to-do-they-are-children” hostile look of yours. It doesn’t work on me. I am neither intimidated, nor do I particularly care that they are children who don’t know any better. Cockroaches probably don’t know any better, but I still kill them because they are dirty, annoying and just happen to be in my immediate surrounding. Get the hint?

Despite all of my hatred to children, I know that they are a red herring and not really the source of my annoyance. The sad truth is that children aren’t really the problem: It’s their parents. In reality, children are pretty immobile and useless: they can’t drive, so they can’t get anywhere far; they don’t work, so they have no money to spend on cabs. Left alone, children can’t do much damage outside their immediate surrounding, which is a good thing I believe. Let them annoy the bastards who brought them to our world; They deserve to be punished for it. I mean of all of the things to do, to bring a child to this horrible war and disease infested world is an act of sheer idiocy and selfishness, if not absolute evil. Although to be fair, most of those bastards who are called parents never really think their actions through, otherwise I am sure they wouldn’t have done what they did. After all, most of them have kids by pure accident: the man will be in the mood, the woman won’t mind getting some and the box of durex was empty. Next thing you know: Voila, a baby. Just think of all the jerks that the world would be free off if their parents just took a cold shower instead of making the beast with 2 backs. Makes me want to weep. Anyway..

So the poor bastards become expecting parents, and then society does that whole fake thing where everyone pretends to be excited for the couple, while in reality they are happy that they are not the only ones who got screwed by having kids. The parents also get excited and start planning for the children’s future and the baby names and all that cutsey stuff that makes me want to heave and which ends with a night of (literally) bloody screaming in a hospital room, followed by the screaming of their little parasite coming out of its happy nest where it fed off the wife to this world where it will proceed to suck them both dry for the rest of their lives. Then the truth hits them: their lives are over and they have this annoying needy living thing that won’t give them a moment’s rest. And that’s when they turn evil: Instead of doing the responsible thing and keep their misery to themselves, they instead try to share it with everyone around them by taking their kids everywhere. Mind you, they are the ones who made the choice to validate their worthless and empty existence by spawning and yet have no problem making the rest of us suffer for it. Evil, I tell you.

I find no better example of this evil behavior than the many times my sister chose to inconvenience my peace and quiet by bringing her children over and refusing to watch them, citing some ambiguous bullshit duty- to which I am not getting paid- that I suddenly had as their Uncle to watch over them for her. She watches them all the time and she is tired, she would whine. Oh, tough cookies. You chose to have them, you watch over them. Not my problem Sistah. Sorrryyy.

Or the many times when I call a friend who has kids or just recently had one and they insist on me talking to their child on the phone. I really don’t get this one. Seriously. The kid is like 6 months old, he can’t even say Dada and you put him on the phone with me? What’s the point? You know he won’t say anything even remotely decipherable and I will be left feeling like an idiot on the other side pretending to try to converse with it while I am dying of boredom inside. You are wasting my money here people. Those phone calls are not cheap, and my money doesn’t grow on trees. I am calling you for a reason, and unless it’s to hear your kids guttural voices, KEEP THEM OFF THE PHONE.

But nothing, nothing supercedes the annoyance of having you bastards dragging your kids with you on airplanes. That’s the one thing I can not forgive you parents for: the annoying screaming of your child on the plane, right behind my ears, while I am trying to get some sleep. As if it wasn’t hard enough to sleep on those modern torture devices they call airplane seats, you chose to inconvenience me more by bringing your scream machine on board. Thanks a lot. Can you explain to me why exactly did you feel the need to bring your child with you on this trip? Are you moving to another country? Does it have a terminal disease that requires medical attention in another country? No? Neither one of those? You are on vacation you say? Well, then WHY DIDN’T YOU LEAVE THEM HOME WITH YOUR PARENTS YOU MORONS? That’s what Grand parents are for people: taking care of your kids while you are away. Your kids don’t need to travel with you. It’s an unnecessary expense and a responsibility, the exact 2 things you don’t want on your vacation. So what were you thinking? Or has “being stupid” become a fashionable life-style choice for you?

And if it’s not enough that I have to be inconvenienced due to your irresponsible irrational decision to take your kids with you, the airlines seem to want to encourage your kind of behavior by rewarding it: THEY LET YOU BOARD FIRST. Yes, because what I really want to be greeted with while I walk to my seat is the sound of your kid screaming while running throughout the plane. Oh, what a cheerful sight. I am sorry, but they should only pr-board people who are maimed, disabled or sick. Having a child with you while traveling-while a retarded decision-is not a disability, nor should it be treated as such. Such moronic behavior shouldn’t be rewarded, period. They are the ones burdening the rest of us with their annoying and needy children; they don’t deserve our sympathy: They deserve to be punished.

So I propose that they shouldn’t be allowed to board early, or even during regular boarding time: they should board last, after the rest of us non-annoying people are seated and situated and even had a drink or two to help alleviate the stress of having them on the same plane with us. They should then get escorted to their seats in a sound-proof section at the end of the plane, away from the rest of us, where they can enjoy inflicting their misery on people of their kind. Until such sections on the planes are developed by the Airplane companies (Please Boeing, I beg you), I have a perfect little solution to that little annoying problem you call your runt: sedation. Kids should be immediately sedated the moment they are on the plane, so that they can fall asleep and we can all get through the trip without incident. And to cover the cost of sedation ( drugs are expensive, just take my word for it) , the parents shouldn’t be served any food, but should be welcome to scavenge the trays for the food leftovers of non-annoying adults. After all, we are reasonable people here, and we don’t want you to starve to death and leave us the responsibility of taking care of your little creatures. We just want to encourage you to keep them at home, and persuade you not to have any more. We have enough idiots running amok all over the world, thank you very much, and we don’t need any more, especially from your gene pool. So please, be a responsible adult and stop reproducing: it’s what’s best for the planet.

So True

2005-11-17T04:39:00.000-08:00

Sean Bateman: Lauren I want to know you
Lauren: What does that mean know me? know me? Nobody ever knows anybody else, ever! You will never ever know me.

The Rules of Attraction

What relationships are all about

2005-11-15T06:33:00.000-08:00

"What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction."

Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

Rorschach

2005-11-15T06:30:00.000-08:00

"Stood in firelight, sweltering. Bloodstain on chest like map of violent new continent.

Felt cleansed. Felt dark planet turn under my feet and knew what cats know that makes them scream like babies in night.

Looked at sky through smoke heavy with human fat and God was not there. The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever, and we are alone.

Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later. Born from oblivion; bear children, hell-bound as ourselves; go into oblivion.

There is nothing else.

Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose.

This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It's us. Only us.

Streets stank of fire. The void breathed hard on my heart, turning its illusions to ice, shattering them. Was reborn then, free to scrawl own design on this morally blank world."

Alan Moore, Watchmen

My response to Z's Post

2005-11-15T05:59:00.000-08:00

I am writing this post in response to Z’s post on how bad Gemini males are. She claims that during male-bitch fest with 3 other bitter females, she suddenly stumbled on the revelation that Gemini guys are the worst.

While we bitterly complained in general about the asinine ways of boys--we noticed that though many guys are jerk offs---it’s those damn GEMINI guys who really wreak havoc on a woman’s mental and emotional well-being!

Now this caught my attention, because I am a Gemini guy and I like being a Gemini and will not stand for someone else to bash my sign. I then decided that it may be better to just write a rebuttal to what she said, and this is what this post is all about.

Dear Z,

It came to my attention that you have issues with men, specifically those of the Gemini persuasion. As a Gemini male myself, I find the fact that you have issues with our fabulous nature to be very troubling, because, you know, we are awesome. But then I remembered that you actually liked Gamal Abdel Nasser and thought he was an OK guy, so I figured that your thought process may have some..ehh.. kinks in it which always ensures that you end up with the wrong conclusion. So I volunteered my time and effort to help you see the error of your ways, and how you are wrong about geminis. I will be using your criticisms as a tool to help me with my task, and I am sure that you will realize how fortunate you were for having such men as Gemini males in your life. Ok? Let’s go.

With the exception of one girlfriend, all of us had A FEW Gemini horror stories to share. Less than 10 minutes into our GEMINI lamentations, we reached a consensus: GEMINI guys are selfish, manipulative, insidious users who find delight in playing with and breaking a woman’s heart.

Ok, first of all, "the selfish , manipulative, insidious users" charge is unfair, because it can be used to characterize the supreme majority of men and women. To claim that those are Gemini only traits is both misleading and disingenuous. The same goes for “finding delight in playing and breaking a woman’s heart”. Puleeze. That’s everybody. You telling me you never played anyone or had to break their heart? Hey, shit happens in relationships. Just because it happened to you doesn’t make it my Zodiac’s fault. Anyway…

But we’re magnets to their dark, charismatic ways. Think Johhny Depp. Yum. They entertain us with their games. They seduce us with words. Charm us with their incessant flirtation.

You also forgot that we provide you with the drama and the mental stimulation you crave. Geminis are all smart, intense and talented and will always give you something to think about. We are also master communicators. You can tell a Gemini anything, you can talk to them for hours without getting bored. We always amuse and entertain you, alongside charming you, and that’s why you find us so irresistible.

Yet, keeping a GEMINI grounded and interested in you seems to be a 24/7 task. It’s exhausting! And before you know it, the GEMINI is bored and needs something new. He only comes back temporarily when he needs to fill the loneliness in his life. THOSE BASTARDS!

Ahh, and here we reach the crux of the problem, your problem, with the Gemini males. See, we need recuperation. We need to get back what we put it. We need someone who will intrigue us, mentally stimulate us, who will do to us what we do to you. Most of you fail at that, because, let’s face it, most of you are BORING. Geminis are tornados of energy and zest for life, and you are talking about keeping them grounded. See where the problem lies here? Instead of jumping on the bandwagon, you want to stop it. Why? It would be smarter and less exhausting to run along instead of always trying to stop us in order to do..ehh.. the nothing that you do all day.

God knows we will try to help you; we will give you suggestions, offer advice, activities to embark on and things to do (especially in bed), but most of you never seize the opportunity when we offer it. You instead wanna talk and discuss things and tell us why we can’t do certain things. Bullshit. There is nothing in this world that a Gemini isn’t capable of doing and getting away with it as well. The faster you get yourself accustomed to that fact, the more fun you and the Gemini will have together.

And then you complain that we only come back to fill the loneliness in our lives. Well, that’s not true. We are very introspective creatures. We always wonder if we did make a wrong choice and if we should have given that person who we had to break up with due to their constant whining and bitching and suffocating ways a second chance. If we made a hasty mistake of judgment so to speak. So we come back into your lives for a few days and low and behold it turns out that we didn’t make a mistake when we left your sorry asses. You are still the same boring annoying suffocating individuals we ran away from. Is it any wonder we bolt again? Wouldn’t you?

Is there a special Ritalin prescription out there for GEMINIS in order to help them shed their frivolous and capricious ways?

No need for one. Just don’t be a boring nag. Make us laugh and we are interested; make us laugh and think and we are yours; make us laugh and think and be good in bed and we are truly yours. God knows we are always funny, mentally stimulating and good in bed. It’s mostly the other party that sucks at life and demands that we stay with them anyway. Pshhhhhhh.

Their schizophrenic split personalities are a crime against humanity! To further complicate matters, GEMINIS are two faced.

You are half right there: we are schizophrenic, but not two-faced. We have 2 personalities fighting for control inside of us and whichever takes over at when is anybody’s guess and completely dependent on luck. It’s not our fault; we are born this way. Not to mention, it’s part of our charm. It’s why we are so damn unpredictable. You never know what we will do or how we will react in any situation, cause either one of the personalities could take over at the time.

Pre-disposed to cheating through their manipulative ways.

Ok, now you are saying we are cheaters? What kind of cheating we talking about here? Physical cheating? Mental cheating? Emotional cheating? You have to specify. Not to mention, before you accuse a Gemini of cheating, you have to ask yourself one thing : “ Are we in a monogamous relationship? Are we even in a relationship? Does seeing him twice a week and fucking his brains out constitute one?”, because that’s usually what you get with a Gemini. A Gemini will never be the first to demand a definition of the relationship, so you girls just assume we are in one. Don’t! Unless we say that we are in a relationship, we are not. And if you push us into admitting it, we will feel bad about rejecting you, so we will mumble incoherently in a way that makes you think we are “in agreement but just being shy and bashful”. We are not. You are assuming things again. Stop it.

Plus, even if we are in a relationship and we find someone better than you, who will love us better and stimulate us better, remind me again why should we stay with you anyway? Love is a fleeting thing, and so is attraction. You can’t control who you are attracted to, why should we be held up to such an insane requirement? Is it our fault that we are honest creature who tell you right away that we are done with your boring ass and that we found someone better? Should we stay with you and lie to you and ourselves? Why? To keep you happy? But you are not keeping us happy, so why should we be the one who get shafted? We are straightforward go-getters; if you can’t deal with it, then don’t date us.

Even worse, they are attention whores in need of accolades and worship. What does a GEMINI see when he looks into the mirror? God. One must frequently--as in every other minute-- praise his good looks, intelligence, and charismatic personality. Basically, staple your lips to his ass, because that’s what he needs.

BECAUSE WE ARE SUPERIOR DAMN IT. That’s why you want us. That’s why you put up with us. We know we are that good. We know that we are worth it, and we know that you better recognize. It’s that simple.

Of course this praise is hardly ever reciprocated. He’s GOD, you’re not.

Exactly. What, you want us to lie to you? If you suck then you suck. Not our fault you are one of the zodiacs less fortunate creatures. Plus, who needs who here? Who wants who to stay with them, despite knowing that they are not worthy? Yeah, exactly, not the Gemini. You need to kiss our ass because we are tolerating you and your presence in our lives, and because we know if you don’t there are a dozen other girls around the corner just waiting their turn to staple their lips to our asses. You know it too, and that’s what really drives you crazy: A Gemini is never disposable, you, on the other hand, are.

Look, we are smart, charismatic, charming, entertaining, stimulating and extremely confidant. You want a piece of that action, then get over it, get on board or get lost. Just don’t go running around whining how you can’t keep us on your terms. You don’t make a Gemini adapt to you, you adapt to him, because we are awesome and that’s all there is to it.

Hope that helped clarify things a bit for ya. If you have anymore questions, let me know.

Sincerely yours,

The awesome Gemini Sandmonkey

Women

2005-11-05T05:26:00.000-08:00

Do you think God knew what He was doing when He created women? Huh? No shit. I really wanna know. Or do you think it was another one of His minor mistakes like tidal waves, earthquakes, FLOODS? You think women are like that? S'matter? You don't think God makes mistakes? Of course He does. We ALL make mistakes. Of course, when WE make mistakes they call it evil. When GOD makes mistakes, they call it... nature. So whaddya think? Women... a mistake... or DID HE DO IT TO US ON PURPOSE?

Darryl Van Horne, The Witches of Eastwick

Juxtaposition

2005-10-24T05:46:00.000-07:00

One Upon A Time

Then:

We held hands on the last night on earth. Our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves. It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river. So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease.In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner." The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide. We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress. The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop. The few insects skidded away in hopes of a better pastime.

I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked if you would accompany me in a quick fall, but you made me realize that my ticket wasn't good for two. I rode alone. You said,"The cinders are falling like snow." There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty, bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence.Of blue and grey. Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city. The sun has stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon and the darkness is a mystery of curves and line.Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward,and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message

Now:

Once, she had looked at him with a knowing sparkle in her eye, as if she were hiding some great truth she wanted to share with him. Now when she looked at him, there was still a warm love in her eyes, but her secrets were all told. He was the one with something to hide now; she would never -- could never -- know the power she had held over him. Had she but asked, it would have been given; had she picked up the phone he would have come. But she did not ask, and she did not call, and for that, he breathed a sad sigh of relief.

He knew how that story ended, yet would have been helpless to stop it had she simply spoken the right words. So he kept silent even while his heart was screaming, and at long last the spell was broken. He smiled softly back, wondering what she saw in his eyes. She was beautiful, and she was happy. And he was free.

The End

A secret

2005-10-23T04:16:00.001-07:00

It happens at my apartment building. am standing outside our apartment's door, saying goodbye to people who are apparantly my guests and who are leaving. I am walking out backwards because i am greeting them so hard and being super polite and nice when i hit the rail on the staircase with my back, slip, lose my balance and fall down to my death. I am wearing a huge green suit for some reason.

I had this nightamre every night for 2 months when i was 6 years old.

And until this day, I believe that one day I will die by somehow slipping and falling down in that hollow area in the staircase to my death. One of the main reasons why I was happy that I left to the States was to avoid dying because of that staircase, and it's one of the main reasons why i really want to leave again.

Weird , huh?

I need to make a shirt that says that..

2005-10-23T04:16:00.000-07:00

I could have had a nice, easy life but no... your parents had to fuck....

2005-10-23T04:11:00.000-07:00

I would have told her then she was the only thing that I could love in this dying world but the simple word "love" itself already died and went away.

Marylin Manson

On parents

2005-10-23T03:54:00.000-07:00

When a child first catches adults out - when it first walks into his grave little head that adults do not have divine intelligence, that their judgements are not always wise, their thinking true, their sentences just - his world falls into panic desolution. The Gods are fallen and all safety gone. And there is one sure thing about the fall of Gods; they do not fall a little; they crash and shatter or sink deeply into green muck. It is a tedious job to build them up again; they never quite shine. And the child's world is never quite whole again. It is an aching kind of growing.

East of Eden

I know what he means

2005-10-18T01:15:00.000-07:00

The newspapers kept stroking my fear. New surveys provided awful statistics on just about everything. Evidence suggested that we were not doing well. Researchers gloomily agreed. Environmental psychologists were interviewed. Damage had “unwittingly” been done. There was “feared lapses”. There were “misconceptions” about potential. Situations had “deteriorated”. Cruelty was on the rise and there was nothing anyone could do about it. The populace was confounded, yet didn’t care. Unpublished studies hinted that we were all paying a price. Scientists peered into data and concluded that we should all be very worried. No one knew what normal behavior was anymore, and some argued that this was a form of virtue. And no one argued back. No one challenged anything. Anxiety was soaking up most people’s days. Everyone had become pre-occupied with horror. Madness was fluttering everywhere. There was fifty years of research supporting this data. There were diagrams illustrating all these problems- circles and hexagons and squares, different sections colored in lime or lilac or gray. Most troubling were the fleeting signs that nothing could transform any of this into something positive. You couldn’t help being both afraid and fascinated. Reading these articles made you feel that the survival of mankind didn’t seem very important on the long run. We were doomed. We deserved it.

Bret Easton Ellis, Lunar Park

Addicted

2005-10-11T06:06:00.000-07:00

It's like you're a drug
It's like you're a demon I can't face down
It's like I'm stuck
It's like I'm running from you all the time

And I know I let you have all the power
It's like the only company I seek is misery all around

It's like you're a leech
Sucking the life from me
It's like I can't breathe
Without you inside of me

And I know I let you have all the power
And I realize I'm never gonna quit you over time

It's like I can't breathe
It's like I can't see anything
Nothing but you
I'm addicted to you

It's like I can't think
Without you interrupting me
In my thoughts, in my dreams
You've taken over me

It's like I'm not me
It's like I'm not me

It's like I'm lost
It's like I'm giving up slowly
It's like you're a ghost that's haunting me
Leave me alone
And I know these voices in my head are mine alone
And I know I'll never change my ways
If I don't give you up now

It's like I can't breathe
It's like I can't see anything
Nothing but you
I'm addicted to you

It's like I can't think
Without you interrupting me
In my thoughts, in my dreams
You've taken over me

It's like I'm not me
It's like I'm not me

I'm hooked on you
I need a fix
I can't take it
Just one more hit
I promise I can deal with it
I'll handle it, quit it
Just one more time, then that's it
Just a little bit more to get me through this

It's like I can't breathe
It's like I can't see anything
Nothing but you
I'm addicted to you

It's like I can't think
Without you interrupting me
In my thoughts, in my dreams
You've taken over me

It's like I'm not me
It's like I'm not me

Kelly Clarkson, Addicted

Fear

2005-10-10T09:43:00.000-07:00

I care about her. I care about her a lot.

I don't want to hurt her.

She trusts me so much. It has been a long time since someone handed me their heart on a platter the way she has. And that scares me even more, because the last time that happend, people got hurt. And I don't want to hurt her.

What scares me even more is that I know that it will end. It will end too soon. It has to end, for so many reasons. I know it. She knows it. She accepts it. She even said that I was a person worth having her heart broken for. Me. I am worth that.

When I see the look in her eyes. The way she sees me. The way she cares. The reflection of me in her eyes; that person that i know can not be me, because i am not that wonderful or beautiful or good. I know that for a fact. I know how ugly I could get. I tell her that. I warn her repeatedly that I am not the kind to be trusted. That i am no different than any other male asshole out there. That I could hurt her badly. I tell her all that, half begging she would run away and half hoping she wouldn't. And she hears it all and she doesn't run away. She stays.

She trusts me. She put her faith in me. She believes in the goodness inside me. That i wouldn't hurt her or betray her like that. Despite all the reasons why she should be fearing me, why she should be shielding herself, protecting herself, building up walls around herself so that I wouldn't hurt her the way I hurt those before her. All of that doesn't phase her. She said she saw my soul and that my soul is good, despite all the things I have done/did/plan on doing. She is the first girl, in god knows how many, who isn't attracted to me because i am cocky or a "bad boy" or dangerous or evil. The first girl in forever who looks past the image, the hide, the mask that covers me and protects me from the rotten evil world that surrounds me. I am not on survival mode when i am around her. I don't distrust her. I don't second-guess her. And I never really question her motives. When i am with her, i am at ease. I am at home. I feel protected.

I feel happy.

And that's what terrifies me the most.

2005-10-04T05:49:00.000-07:00

*Originally written 5/30/2004*

You cannot see what I see because you see what you see. You cannot know what I know because you know what you know. What I see and what I know cannot be added to what you se and what you know because they are not of the same kind. Neither can it replace what you see and what you know, because that would be to replace you yourself.

Douglas Adams

Kristin: when should I pick up my food from ur place?
Kristin: I think Maria wants to go out lata
superior Soul: hmm
superior Soul: u have the keys right
Kristin: yeah
superior Soul: well
Kristin: ok I'll just go whenever then
superior Soul: whats stopping u?
superior Soul: lol
superior Soul: so
Kristin: nothing I just thought if u were going
superior Soul: whatchu gonna do with maria
Kristin: to be there at some point
superior Soul: going out?
superior Soul: i will at 6
Kristin: I would go then
superior Soul: i have to go pick up my laundry at 6
Kristin: ok
superior Soul: so i am leavin here in an hour
Kristin: I don't know where to go w/ Maria yet
superior Soul: what's nick doing?
Kristin: She will call me later
Kristin: Nick will meet up with us I think
Kristin: he's going to church w/ me tommorow
Kristin: so he wants to stay over
superior Soul: which makes sense
superior Soul: where will u people be going?
Kristin: I don't know
Kristin: I have to talk to Maria
superior Soul: yeah
Kristin: but I don't think she will know either

Many people don't realize that shells are what sand is made from. Broken shells thousands upon thousands.

Billabong Surf Issue Volume 1

superior Soul: just spoke to maria
superior Soul: she is on her way to cambrdige with the other maria
superior Soul: she will be back in an hour or two
superior Soul: and then i will take her ass and get her drunk and high
Kristin: ok cool
superior Soul: and then hand her over to u whenever u r done
Kristin: where ru taking her
superior Soul: dunno yet
superior Soul: but i will figure something out
Kristin: I want u to come out w/ us
superior Soul: don;t think so
superior Soul: 1) don't have the money
Kristin: neither do I
superior Soul: 2) it will be chris and maria and u and nick
superior Soul: 5th whell status is not my forte
Kristin: chris is coming?
superior Soul: prolly
superior Soul: it will be cute
Kristin: i wasn't sure
superior Soul: like a double date
Kristin: yeah
superior Soul: :-D
Kristin: nick and chris will become best friends
superior Soul: yeah
superior Soul: i think they will
superior Soul: lol
Kristin: u do
superior Soul: have u spoke to chris?
Kristin: I've tried
superior Soul: and?
Kristin: he's hard to talk to
Kristin: he doesn't make much small talk
Kristin: Marie and I discussed this b4
Kristin: she felt the same way
superior Soul: yeah
superior Soul: he is too intelectual
Kristin: what?
superior Soul: last time me and him went off on tangents
Kristin: I didn't get that impression
superior Soul: nahh
superior Soul: he is pretty well read and cultured
Kristin: but I haven't talked to him that much
Kristin: o
Kristin: that's good
superior Soul: u gotta be if u r biracial, buddhist, computer science major
Kristin: right?
superior Soul: and a master swordsman
Kristin: so should I take my break at 6
Kristin: he's a swordsman?
Kristin: wow
superior Soul: take it at 6:10
superior Soul: yeah
superior Soul: me and him were taking swordfighting tactics
superior Soul: *talking
superior Soul: we were high
superior Soul: but that's how maria found that out too
superior Soul: she didn;t know he was
superior Soul: now they fight with wooden swrods at his place all the time
superior Soul: but who knows
superior Soul: maybe chris and nick will bond over something
superior Soul: prolly how crazy their women are
superior Soul: :-P
Kristin: I ain't crazy
Kristin: and neither is MAria
Kristin: sperminator ur the crazy one
superior Soul: that is sooo true

Kristin: I know

I’ve put my trust in you

Pushed as far as I can go

And for all this

There’s only one thing you should know

I’ve put my trust in you

Pushed as far as I can go

And for all this

There’s only one thing you should know

I tried so hard

And got so far

But in the end

It doesn’t even matter

I had to fall

To lose it all

But in the end

It doesn’t even matter

superior Soul: ok

superior Soul: so mell

superior Soul: i am out of money

superior Soul: but i have my rent money

superior Soul: should i do which of the following

mismonei: thats good

superior Soul: 1) not buy weed at all

mismonei: or

superior Soul: 2) buy an eigth and say fuck it

mismonei: or

superior Soul: 3) buy an eigth, pay 20 and have the person front me the other 20 till i get some money on tuesday?

mismonei: and tuesday is the first so tahts when u pay rent so i say CHOOSE 3

superior Soul: hmm

superior Soul: ok

mismonei: what do u think

mismonei: thats a good choice

superior Soul: it is a good choice

superior Soul: i just wish my weed hasn't disappeared u know?

mismonei: i know taht fucking blows

mismonei: i hate when my shit dissapears

superior Soul: and don;t u hate it even more

superior Soul: when u know who took it

superior Soul: and u know that its not worth it

mismonei: yeah

superior Soul: cause they will never admit it

mismonei: thats right

superior Soul: and they will play the fuckin victim and demand an apology

mismonei: cause they SUCK

superior Soul: yeppers

mismonei: i have a roomate who does that on a daliy basis

superior Soul: hehe

superior Soul: nahh

superior Soul: the person who did that to me is..was..used to be my bestfriendd

mismonei: ya

superior Soul: i got her ass high yesterday and that's how she repays me

mismonei: i hear u

superior Soul: there is always something underneath the surface with people

superior Soul: something really ugly

superior Soul: and it's always there

superior Soul: u just can;t see it till u can see it

superior Soul: no matter what other people tell u

superior Soul: no matter how many times u r warned

superior Soul: u don;t see it till u see it

superior Soul: and sometimes u never ever do

superior Soul: but its always there

superior Soul: I love it

superior Soul: what do u think?

mismonei: i think that is so tru

mismonei: four parts to a person

superior Soul: 4?

mismonei: the things they know, the things other people know, the things that, the things that are there that u never see and the the things that u will never know

superior Soul: whats the differnece between the things that are there that u never see and the the things that u will never know?

mismonei: i think they may be the same

mismonei: amybe only three then

superior Soul: well

superior Soul: how about this

mismonei: ya

superior Soul: there are the things they will tell you about themselves, the things other people will tell u about them, the things that will get unraveld about them to you over time by interacting and talking to them but which they may not be aware of or are but will never tell you and finally there are the things that hide in a dark sealed shut nuclear bunker of a room that resides in their heart, that they will never show or tell to anyone ever because they believe-most of the time correctly- that if other people knew about them they would crucify them.

superior Soul: does that sound right to you?

What do you think?

"Your country sucks more than i thought it did"

2005-10-03T06:33:00.000-07:00

I got this e-mail from my friend Nicole

So Sam, you need to have a talk with your mother or someone with some power to change things in your fucked up little corner of the world. I have a product that needs to get shipped to egypt and fucking AAAAAAAAA I have to go through hoops to get it there. I have to make copies of shit, fill out a cert of origin (and what am i supposed to do if the origin for one of the products is costa fuckin rica....not that you'd know im just pissed)..get it notarized at the chamber of commerce....then i have to send it to the American egyptian cooperation foundation ( now if we were really cooperating none of this bs would be necessary)....who after charging me 35 bucks a document will sent it to the egyptian consulate who will then charge me another 50 fuckin bucks to say that ya i think its from the US. Dude ur contry needs to change things cause i didnt like it before because it kept you away now i really hate it and just find egypt to be one big ole pain in the ass that does nothing but ruin my fun.

anyways....hope all is well i just needed to vent cause this sucks a big ole donkey's ball sack and your the only person from egypt i know so tough titties u have to listen to me bitch. gotta go though almost time to go leave yippeee.

Miss you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Regards (why people say regards is beyond me ...i wish i could change it to say peace mother fucker...i mean i can for you but in general its regards...),

Nicole

Acoustic #3

2005-10-03T05:14:00.000-07:00

They painted up your secrets
With the lies they told to you
And the least they ever gave you
Was the most you ever knew

And I wonder where these dreams go
When the world gets in your way
What's the point in all this screaming
No one's listening anyway

Your voice is small and fading
And you hide in here unknown
And your mother loves your father
Cause she's got nowhere to go

And she wonders where these dreams go
Cause the world got in her way
What's the point in ever trying
Nothing's changing anyway

They press their lips against you
And you love the lies they say
And I tried so hard to reach you
But you're falling anyway

And you know I see right through you
Cause the world gets in your way
What's the point in all this screaming
You're not listening anyway

The Goo Goo Dolls

All good things come in threes

2005-10-02T11:26:00.000-07:00

There is this guy at work whose wife just had triplets.3 Children. At the same. One right after the other. I keep getting this image of a Pez Dispenser whenever I think of it. Or one of those Tennis-ball-spitting-machines. It's all very mentally disturbing to me Image –wise, I don’t know why!

However, the dude, a first time father, now has 3 kids. 2 girls and a boy. People at work are calling it a miracle from God. I tend to call it a miracle from Pfizer. And it seems that I have it right: This doctor they went to was concerned that they may not have babies, so he gave them this drug, and Viola: Triplets. And all they wanted was one kid. All they planned on was one kid. Thanks modern science for fucking people over again. Thanks a lot.

And while they say all good things come in threes, the same doesn’t apply to children, cause , you see, kids cost money. He has to feed them, cloths them, buy baby food, toys and diapers, never sleep from all the crying they will subject him to. And then, and then they go to school. And since it’s Egypt, they have to go to a private school, which is expensive, multiply by 3, add tutoring expenses, new cloths, books, school supplies, more food, more toys, and never even mind high school, cars, college or getting married. ahhhh, the mind reels.

So, all of us at my company have collected money amongst ourselves and gave it to him, a way to congratulate him for "god's gift" to him, and a way to tell him that we know how fucked he will be. He joked how he will probably need us to make this a monthly habit. Ha, half what's said in jest, right? Fuck him. He ain't getting no more money from me to support his spawns. No one told him to take fertility drugs that moron. Personal responsibility motherfucker. You get no sympathy from me.

Actually, what he keeps getting from me is increased hostility. Everyday now I go to him and instead of saying good morning I am like "3? 3 fuckin kids? What the fuck is wrong with you? Isn’t the country overpopulated enough you bastard? Does the morgue need anymore dead bodies?", followed by a warning from me that he shouldn't even Kiss his wife any time soon, let alone fuck her. I tell him that he should probably keep his distance and just waive hi to her once a day from across the apartment and then proceed to sleep on the couch. Not even holding hands is allowed. You never know with a woman like that. She is giving the Napa valley a run for its money when it comes to fertility. You know?

Triplets. Jesus.

This is why I am always pessimistic

2005-09-30T11:03:00.000-07:00

"The basis of optimism is sheer terror."--Oscar Wilde

It's just ain't wise

2005-09-30T11:00:00.000-07:00

Don't believe anything anyone says directly before, during, or after sex!

On aging

2005-09-30T10:57:00.000-07:00

Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.

Home

2005-09-30T10:53:00.000-07:00

Well, it's not hard to see
Anyone who looks at me
Knows I am just a rolling stone
Never landing anyplace to call my own
To call my own

Well, it seems like so long ago
But it really ain't ya know
I started off a crazy kid
Miracle I made it through the things I did
The things I did

Someday I'll go where there ain't no rain or snow
Until then, I travel alone
And I make my bed
with the stars above my head
And dream of a place called home.

Kim Richey, A place called Home

On Joy and Sorrow

2005-09-30T10:48:00.000-07:00

Then a woman said, "Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow."

And he answered:

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."

But I say unto you, they are inseparable.

Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.

Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.

When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

Gabran Khalil Gabran, The Prophet

The Bastards

2005-09-30T00:42:00.000-07:00

They speak of my drinking but never consider my thirst!

Words to live by

2005-09-30T00:41:00.000-07:00

Don't worry about what people think; they don't do it very often.

The way things used to be a long time ago

2005-09-30T00:40:00.000-07:00

A woman has a close male friend. This means that he is probably interested in her, which is why he hangs around so much. She sees him strictly as a friend. This always starts out with, you're a great guy, but I don't like you in that way. This is roughly the equivalent for the guy of going to a job interview and the company saying, You have a great resume, you have all the qualifications we are looking for, but we're not going to hire you. We will, however, use your resume as the basis for comparison for all other applicants. But, we're going to hire somebody who is far less qualified and is probably an alcoholic. And if he doesn't work out, we'll hire somebody else, but still not you. In fact, we will never hire you. But we will call you from time to time to complain about the person that we hired.

More Glamorama

2005-09-30T00:38:00.000-07:00

She waves me away. "Animals need as much love and respect and care as we give people."

I consider this. I think about all the things I've seen and done, and I consider this.

"I think they're better off without that, baby," I say. "In fact I think they're doing okay."

Glamorama

Glamorama

2005-09-30T00:37:00.000-07:00

"A smart suit," she sighs. "Being buff. A cool haircut. Worrying about whether people think you're famous enough or cool enough or in good enough shape or . . . or whatever." She sighs, gives up, stares at the ceiling. "These are not signs of wisdom, Victor," she says. "This is the bad planet."

Glamorama

These Days

2005-09-30T00:32:00.000-07:00

*Stolen from Sally*

I've been out walking
I don't do too much talking
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
And all the times I had the chance to.

I've stopped my rambling,
I don't do too much gambling
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think about
How all the changes came about my ways
And I wonder if I'll see another highway.

I had a lover,
I don't think I'll risk another
These days, these days.
And if I seem to be afraid
To live the life that I have made in song
It's just that I've been losing so long.

I've stopped my dreaming,
I won't do too much scheming
These days, these days.
These days I sit on corner stones
And count the time in quarter tones to ten.
Please don't confront me with my failures,
I had not forgotten them.

Nico's "These Days"

For Sidney Becht

2005-09-30T00:16:00.000-07:00

That note you hold, narrowing and rising, shakes
Like New Orleans reflected on the water,
And in all ears appropriate falsehood wakes,

Building for some a legendary Quarter
Of balconies, flower-baskets and quadrilles,
Everyone making love and going shares--

Oh, play that thing! Mute glorious Storyvilles
Others may license, grouping around their chairs
Sporting-house girls like circus tigers (priced

Far above rubies) to pretend their fads,
While scholars manqués nod around unnoticed
Wrapped up in personnels like old plaids.

On me your voice falls as they say love should,
Like an enormous yes. My Crescent City
Is where your speech alone is understood,

And greeted as the natural noise of good,
Scattering long-haired grief and scored pity.

Philip Larkin

The best part in Believe

2005-09-29T10:49:00.000-07:00

The best part of "believe" is the "lie."
I hope you sing along and steal a line.
I need to keep you like this in my mind.
So give in or just give up.

Look around

2005-09-29T07:13:00.000-07:00

Funny. 'Cause I look around at this world you're so eager to be a part of... and all I see is six billion lunatics looking for the fastest ride out. Who's not crazy? Look around. Everyone's drinking, smoking, shooting up... shooting each other, or just plain screwing their brains out 'cause they don't want 'em anymore. *I'm* crazy? Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind. 'Cause at least I admit the world makes me nuts.

Glory, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

A Prayer

2005-09-29T07:10:00.000-07:00

May the road be free for the journey,
May it lead where it promised it would,
May the stars that gave ancient bearings
Be seen, still be understood
May every aircraft fly safely,
May every traveler be found,
May sailors in crossing the ocean
Not hear the cried of the drowned
May gardens be wild, like jungles,
May nature never be tamed,
May dangers create of us heroes,
May fears always have names,
May the mountains stand to remind us,
Of what it mean to be young
May we be outlived by our daughters,
May we be outlived by our sons
May the bombs rust away in the bunkers,
And the doomsday clock not be rewound
May the solitary scientists, working
Remember the holes in the ground
May the knife remain in the holder,
May the bullet stay in the gun,
May those who live in the shadows
Be seen by those in the sun

John Marsden

Story of her life

2005-09-29T07:05:00.000-07:00

Sometimes we put up walls, not to block people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.

My Poor brain

2005-09-29T07:03:00.000-07:00

It seems like I'm always getting stuck
Between the handshake and the fuck

Foo Fighters

Heart of Darkness

2005-09-29T07:02:00.000-07:00

We penetrated deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness. It was very quiet there. At night sometimes the roll of the drums behind the curtain of trees would run up the river and remain sustained faintly, as if hovering in the air high over our heads, till the first break of day ... The dawn were heralded by a chill stillness; the wood-cutters slept, their fires burned low; the snapping of a twig would make you start. We were wanderers on a prehistoric planet ... But suddenly, as we struggled round a bend, there would be a glimpse of rush walls, of peaked grass-roof, a burst of yells, a whirl of black limbs, a mass of hands clapping, of feet stamping, of bodies swaying, of eyes rolling, under the droops of heavy and motionless foliage.

Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness

2005-09-29T07:00:00.000-07:00

"The air was alive with the rush and flutter of wings; it was ripped by screaming shells, hissing like tons of molten metal plunging suddenly into water, there was the blast and concussion of their explosion, men smashed, obliterated in sudden eruptions of earth, rent and strewn in bloody fragments, shells that were like hell-cats humped and spitting, little sounds, unpleasantly close, lie the plucking of tense strings, and something tangling his feet, tearing at his trousers and puttees as he stumbled over it, and then a face suddenly, an inconceivably disorted face, which raved and sobbed at him as he fell with it into a shell-hole."

Frederic Manning, Middle Parts of Fortune (Accounts of The Great War)

On Guilt

2005-09-28T05:08:00.000-07:00

Guilt is a rope that wears thin.

Ayn Rand

Nevermind

2005-09-28T05:04:00.000-07:00

Here we sit in a branchy row,
Thinking of beautiful things we know;
Dreaming of deeds that we mean to do,
All complete in a minute or two--
Something noble and grand and good,
Won by merely wishing we could.
Now we're going to -- never mind,
Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!

Rudyard Kipling

Me

2005-09-28T05:02:00.000-07:00

I am Me. In all the world, there is no one else exactly like me.Everything that comes out of me is authentically mine, because I alone chose it -- I own everything about me: my body, my feelings, my mouth, my voice, all my actions, whether they be to others or myself. I own my fantasies, my dreams, my hopes, my fears. I own my triumphs and successes, all my failures and mistakes. Because I own all of me, I can become intimately acquainted with me. By so doing, I can love me and be friendly with all my parts. I know there are aspects about myself that puzzle me, and other aspects that I do not know -- but as long as I am friendly and loving to myself, I can courageously and hopefully look for solutions to the puzzles and ways to find out more about me. However I look and sound, whatever I say and do, and whatever I think and feel at a given moment in time is authentically me. If later some parts of how I looked, sounded, thought, and felt turn out to be unfitting, I can discard that which is unfitting, keep the rest, and invent something new for that which I discarded. I can see, hear, feel, think, say, and do. I have the tools to survive, to be close to others, to be productive, and to make sense and order out of the world of people and things outside of me. I own me, and therefore, I can engineer me. I am me, and I am Okay.

Anonymous

Wisdom

2005-09-28T05:01:00.000-07:00

It is difficult to say who do you the most harm: enemies with the worst intentions or friends with the best.

On choices

2005-09-28T05:00:00.000-07:00

*Originally written 28/2/2003*

I sometimes question my choices, my actions and my words. Over the years i have managed to mess up friendship after friendship on stupid arguments, faults or actions that i took in stride.
Don't get me wrong ; I do not feel guilty about those actions. Most of those people deserved it anyway. There was the ones i wanted to teach a lesson, the ones that i wanted to protect and the ones i wanted to destory. Yes, there were friends of mine that deserved to be destoryed for their own good, the same way its a lot better to tear down a building and rebuild it then it is to repair it temporarily. Not to mention the ones i had issues with, for i am not that jaded to think that all of my actions were justifiable as acts of care and concern.

There were also always those I rubbed the wrong way by being too brash or too arrogant or too ambitious or too successful -- or by not being inhibited or tactful enough to refrain from writing about my life here for the whole world to see.To this day having this diary is a cause of drama for me with all of my friends who would rather not have our dirty laundry out for the world to see. As you can see, i am still not listening to them.

I guess being a friend of mine is not an easy thing to be.

Another old away message

2005-09-28T04:59:00.000-07:00

To the girl who left her White Victorea's Secret Panties in my bedroom, please come and pick them up, cause i am not quiet sure who you are.

And next time, please take your panties with you when you leave; I really don't need that kind of confusing souvenirs in my life right now! Ok?

Thanx hun!

The Way of the Samurai

2005-09-28T04:56:00.001-07:00

One who is a samurai must before all things keep constantly in mind…the fact that he has to die. If he is always mindful of this, he will be able to live in accordance with the paths of loyalty and filial duty, will avoid myriads of evils and adversities, keep himself free of disease and calamity and moreover enjoy a long life. He will also be a fine personality with many admirable qualities. For existence is impermanent as the dew of evening, and the hoarfrost of morning, and particularly uncertain is the life of the warrior!

Daidoji Yuzan

I live by this

2005-09-28T04:56:00.000-07:00

Life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think!

An old away message

2005-09-28T04:55:00.000-07:00

Note to self:

Never shroom around clinnically depressed people, never shroom around people who will pull knifes on you, never shroom and watch Hair or any musical ever again, never shroom and walk alone when its raining and horrible out, and never shroom and watch the SciFi channel ever again, that's just a bad idea!

On a second thought, Never shroom again!