I happened upon this poem... and I feel a kinship to it's words.
Love Is Not All
Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again;
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Or nagged by want past resolution's power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It well may be. I do not think I would.
~ Edna St. Vincent Millay
Friday, December 28, 2012
Bilancia
As in everything, there seems to be a certain balance to life. A balance that when tipped ever so slightly to one side somehow seems to send life spiraling into something that feels so... chaotically unbalanced.
I had you. For so long. You were my rock; someone to pull me back up when I had slipped too far. You held my sanity together. You became a part of me when everything inside of me was so empty...
Before... Loving you meant missing him.
And now... Loving him means missing you.
Seems like an awful price to pay for friendship.
I had you. For so long. You were my rock; someone to pull me back up when I had slipped too far. You held my sanity together. You became a part of me when everything inside of me was so empty...
Before... Loving you meant missing him.
And now... Loving him means missing you.
Seems like an awful price to pay for friendship.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Inanis
How convient it must be to shut one's feelings off.
... What an empty life you'd have to lead.
... What an empty life you'd have to lead.
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Effluo
Just when I think I had felt every kind of betrayal...
Wrong again.
If I could swallow a pill and forget about you... remove you from my mind, from my memory... from my heart. I would. I'm sorry, but I would do it without a millisecond of hesitation.
...I've never said that before.
And now I know I never will again.
Wrong again.
If I could swallow a pill and forget about you... remove you from my mind, from my memory... from my heart. I would. I'm sorry, but I would do it without a millisecond of hesitation.
...I've never said that before.
And now I know I never will again.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Wise Words
If you have to constantly question where you stand with someone, perhaps it is time that you start to walk in the other direction.
The wounds will never heal until you remove yourself from the situation that keeps searing your skin.
I've learned that much.
The wounds will never heal until you remove yourself from the situation that keeps searing your skin.
I've learned that much.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
News Flash
There is more to this life than just pretty faces.
I don't believe most people understand this.
I don't believe most people understand this.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Veritas Vos Liberabit
It's been a slippery slope but we've finally reached the end. It still feels kinda surreal but I'm confident that in the passing of time, the scars you've made will fade. As they all do. You may have knocked me down, but rest assured, I know how to pick myself back up. Far from it be this the first time and I very much doubt it will be the last. After all, small minds know only destruction. I may seem like a pent up person but I know the difference between being angry and taking my life's anger out on someone I love. Of that, I'm sure.
Once upon a time, I wanted to know what love was. Love is there if you want it to be. You just have to see that it's wrapped in beauty and hidden away in between the seconds of your life. If you don't stop for a minute, you might miss it.
The people who knock you down know not of this.
I believe Albert Einstein said it best: "Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds."
And that's all you are. Mediocre minds. You've proved that much.
I shall press on. I've proved that much.
Once upon a time, I wanted to know what love was. Love is there if you want it to be. You just have to see that it's wrapped in beauty and hidden away in between the seconds of your life. If you don't stop for a minute, you might miss it.
The people who knock you down know not of this.
I believe Albert Einstein said it best: "Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds."
And that's all you are. Mediocre minds. You've proved that much.
I shall press on. I've proved that much.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Delere
I'm quite certain no one will even notice.
And I'm not sure whether to be happy or sad about that.
And I'm not sure whether to be happy or sad about that.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Fatuus
A word of advice. It's probably not the best idea to [wrongly] condemn a person for something others often [wrongly] condemn you of.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Proditio
The moment someone compares you to someone else; someone else who they perceive to be a better person, is a moment you will never forget. You wear the memory of the feeling on your skin like grime you can’t wash clean. It doesn’t matter the reason, justified or not. It stays. You stand there, like you were just smacked on the head and you’re waiting to lose conciseness. It takes the breath right from your lungs. Just because someone gives the outward appearance that they are a better person than you, does it then in turn make you a bad person? Or less of a person? Just because you use curse words more than they do? Just because you have more dimensions to your voice. Just because you have less friends than they do? You stand there, struggling to remember what exactly it was that your parents told you; was it quality over quantity? What is this sudden self doubt that is bubbling through your insides? Images flash through your mind; like, this has happened before. Close your eyes against the suddenness of it. A sinking feeling. You are reminded of how this scene will play out and you already know the ending song. You’re gasping through this living nightmare a second time. Time stands still and you are naked and broken in the midst of a memory reborn. It’s horrible and you already know it. You also know there is nothing you can do. The damage is done. It’s over. So there is nothing left to do but leave the toxicity where it stands and hope it hasn’t permeated your body through and through. Maybe you left in time this time. Maybe… The damage is already done.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Ultio
Fact: The best way to exact your revenge on someone is simply this. Manipulate a situation to your favor. For instance, egg this person on with harmless comments. By harmless I mean things that you know get under this person’s skin, but to casual on lookers, are mere little words. Next, wait for them to lose it, or to overreact. Then, once this person tries to confront you about this, deny the whole thing, after all, you have witnesses that saw you being nothing but outwardly polite.
No one is perfect. I don’t care how perfect someone seems, deep down, they’ve got secrets, lies. Just like the rest of us. I sometimes think these people are worse. They walk around with their noses in the air, pretending not to care or to notice, but you tell me who the real liar is: someone who allows others to believe they are perfect, or people who walk around wearing their Scarlet Letters (whatever letter it may be!). I’d rather be friends with a bitch than a fraud because at least I know the bitch is going to stab me and this way I can be ready for it. Unlike the fraud who lures you into a false lull of a safety net and then slowly, when you least expect it, inserts that knife, right in between your ribs; while you’re sleeping. So they can silently slip away while you bleed out in bed.
No one is perfect. I don’t care how perfect someone seems, deep down, they’ve got secrets, lies. Just like the rest of us. I sometimes think these people are worse. They walk around with their noses in the air, pretending not to care or to notice, but you tell me who the real liar is: someone who allows others to believe they are perfect, or people who walk around wearing their Scarlet Letters (whatever letter it may be!). I’d rather be friends with a bitch than a fraud because at least I know the bitch is going to stab me and this way I can be ready for it. Unlike the fraud who lures you into a false lull of a safety net and then slowly, when you least expect it, inserts that knife, right in between your ribs; while you’re sleeping. So they can silently slip away while you bleed out in bed.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Live On Very Exceptionally!
I think the thing about love stories that bothers me the most nowadays is that they feel so… forgetful. Alright, I’ll show you what I mean. Sit down. Here is your task: Put this book down and close your eyes and think of the first love story that pops into your mind before reading onto the next lines. Go!
What came to mind? Was it Romeo and Juliet? Twilight? Pride and Prejudice? Jane Eyre? The Princess Bride? Snow White? The Time Traveler’s Wife? Any of these? You did, didn’t you? Do you know why that is? What is the one thing all of these books have in common? Romance; a romantic kind of love. People falling in love and finding their happily ever after’s. When people think about a love story they are so quick to fall into this category. I ask you this – what about the other kinds of love? Why is it that we are so quick to leave all other forms of love out of the loop? But what about the other kinds?! Are they not profound enough? Are they not big enough? Not important enough? Love is my favorite part of life. Each and every form of it. They are all so different, so unique and yet, they are all still just love. The English language only has one word for love. Just love. 4 letters that mean so much all the time; and all at the same time! Have you ever truly thought about just how vast love really is.
Love is big! But it can also be small. So small. It can grow and can be broken even though you never water it or ever come to touch it. Love can be personal and universal. Love is fleeting and unending. How unchanging and yet varying it is. Love has no concept of time and you will never find a recipe for it. Love is always, exactly, every time, everything you make of it.
I love getting paid. Not to be confused with money.
But not in the way I love feeling like I’ve accomplished something. Accomplished my job. A job well done. No matter how small. And not in the way that I love seeing the people I work with pleased that everything went right that day.
I love ice cream for all of its flavors and textures; the way it cools me down on a hot day.
But not in the way that I love chocolate. The way it melts in my mouth and warms me from the face right down to the toes.
I love food.
But not in the way I love my US of A. The flag and our colors. The sheer history of it gives me goosebumps. How much this country has fought for and accomplished to become the greatest nation this world has seen! The men and women that serve her PROUDLY. I love and I stand behind it all.
But not in the way that I love my cat. She is my everything. Our bond is something I’ve never seen before. She knows me better than anyone I know. When she looks up at me I am the only thing that she sees. Every time. The way I pet her when she’s napping and she meows and looks up at me as if to say “oh, there you are!” And her love for me is renewed all over again; she looks into my eyes and I can feel the love she has for me. Unconditional.
I have loved every man that I said I loved. I’ve loved them, all in their own time and in their own way. Romantic yes, but each unforgettable and unique to me. From the Power of the Power, to spilled wax on white bathroom floors, to my one pro in an otherwise completely con-list of a life.
I love my God. But not in the way He intended me to. He is my Savior. My Beginning and my End. And I will love Him all of my days in the best way I can.
I love my father. My only family I have. And I love him all the more for it. I treasure each and every second I have with him. Not only in person, but every thought I have of him as well.
For I love my mother in a different way. A way that transcends this terrestrial sphere.
I love my friends unconditionally. Even after they are gone. I go on loving.
But not in the way that I love my best friend, Katie for she is my Soul Sister. The true semi that makes my soul not a half but a whole. It was, much like we were at ten years old, a young and innocent love, forever forming a deep connection that no matter how we may have tried to break this, it indeed cannot be broken. A love that can only be formed from spending a lifetime together; from truly knowing it is lifelong, still.
I love my best friend, John but not in the same way that I love Katie for John came later on in life. We shared a kind of love for each other that first had to overcome the past. Of shared stories of loves lost and a labored heartache. That formed bonds only heartache can bind together. He looked at me and saw something of a worth, reminding me that maybe I’m not as crazy as they think, or at least only as mad as him. And I'm fabulously okay with that.
I love Mark. In the only way I have left, the only way I know how to love a man like him. Whole heartedly and with every fiber of my being. Words are simply not eloquent enough. He is my journey and I love the twists and turns our shared journey takes us for love should never be without adventure. Love is, after all, not about a destination, but of the journey.
My mom used to say “love is what matters.” And now, more than ever, I know how true that is. Cars stop running, computers outdate, food spoils, plans go awry. Things break. Money is made, spent and lost. But none of those things are astounding. None of those things change your life forever. They might impact your life. Make it better or worse but they don’t make or break your life. And for those it does, my heart goes out to them for they are truly in need of love. Love. Love is what matters in this life. No matter how long or how short. For when you love, you Live On Very Exceptionally. Because love, my dear loves, is always the exception.
What came to mind? Was it Romeo and Juliet? Twilight? Pride and Prejudice? Jane Eyre? The Princess Bride? Snow White? The Time Traveler’s Wife? Any of these? You did, didn’t you? Do you know why that is? What is the one thing all of these books have in common? Romance; a romantic kind of love. People falling in love and finding their happily ever after’s. When people think about a love story they are so quick to fall into this category. I ask you this – what about the other kinds of love? Why is it that we are so quick to leave all other forms of love out of the loop? But what about the other kinds?! Are they not profound enough? Are they not big enough? Not important enough? Love is my favorite part of life. Each and every form of it. They are all so different, so unique and yet, they are all still just love. The English language only has one word for love. Just love. 4 letters that mean so much all the time; and all at the same time! Have you ever truly thought about just how vast love really is.
Love is big! But it can also be small. So small. It can grow and can be broken even though you never water it or ever come to touch it. Love can be personal and universal. Love is fleeting and unending. How unchanging and yet varying it is. Love has no concept of time and you will never find a recipe for it. Love is always, exactly, every time, everything you make of it.
I love getting paid. Not to be confused with money.
But not in the way I love feeling like I’ve accomplished something. Accomplished my job. A job well done. No matter how small. And not in the way that I love seeing the people I work with pleased that everything went right that day.
I love ice cream for all of its flavors and textures; the way it cools me down on a hot day.
But not in the way that I love chocolate. The way it melts in my mouth and warms me from the face right down to the toes.
I love food.
But not in the way I love my US of A. The flag and our colors. The sheer history of it gives me goosebumps. How much this country has fought for and accomplished to become the greatest nation this world has seen! The men and women that serve her PROUDLY. I love and I stand behind it all.
But not in the way that I love my cat. She is my everything. Our bond is something I’ve never seen before. She knows me better than anyone I know. When she looks up at me I am the only thing that she sees. Every time. The way I pet her when she’s napping and she meows and looks up at me as if to say “oh, there you are!” And her love for me is renewed all over again; she looks into my eyes and I can feel the love she has for me. Unconditional.
I have loved every man that I said I loved. I’ve loved them, all in their own time and in their own way. Romantic yes, but each unforgettable and unique to me. From the Power of the Power, to spilled wax on white bathroom floors, to my one pro in an otherwise completely con-list of a life.
I love my God. But not in the way He intended me to. He is my Savior. My Beginning and my End. And I will love Him all of my days in the best way I can.
I love my father. My only family I have. And I love him all the more for it. I treasure each and every second I have with him. Not only in person, but every thought I have of him as well.
For I love my mother in a different way. A way that transcends this terrestrial sphere.
I love my friends unconditionally. Even after they are gone. I go on loving.
But not in the way that I love my best friend, Katie for she is my Soul Sister. The true semi that makes my soul not a half but a whole. It was, much like we were at ten years old, a young and innocent love, forever forming a deep connection that no matter how we may have tried to break this, it indeed cannot be broken. A love that can only be formed from spending a lifetime together; from truly knowing it is lifelong, still.
I love my best friend, John but not in the same way that I love Katie for John came later on in life. We shared a kind of love for each other that first had to overcome the past. Of shared stories of loves lost and a labored heartache. That formed bonds only heartache can bind together. He looked at me and saw something of a worth, reminding me that maybe I’m not as crazy as they think, or at least only as mad as him. And I'm fabulously okay with that.
I love Mark. In the only way I have left, the only way I know how to love a man like him. Whole heartedly and with every fiber of my being. Words are simply not eloquent enough. He is my journey and I love the twists and turns our shared journey takes us for love should never be without adventure. Love is, after all, not about a destination, but of the journey.
My mom used to say “love is what matters.” And now, more than ever, I know how true that is. Cars stop running, computers outdate, food spoils, plans go awry. Things break. Money is made, spent and lost. But none of those things are astounding. None of those things change your life forever. They might impact your life. Make it better or worse but they don’t make or break your life. And for those it does, my heart goes out to them for they are truly in need of love. Love. Love is what matters in this life. No matter how long or how short. For when you love, you Live On Very Exceptionally. Because love, my dear loves, is always the exception.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Hook A Sistah Up... Or Not!
Alright, I really feel like something needs to be clarified here. So, I’m pretty sure I have amazing first hand experience of this. Let me explain. I’m a girl; a very nerdy one at that. I love video games, Dungeons and Dragons, reading Game Informer, reading forums on the games I play, uploading silly YouTube videos of me and my friends playing these silly games. I also really enjoy school. Most of the shows I watch are super nerdy too, like Star Trek, Doctor Who and Firefly. Pretty much all science fiction. On top of this, I’m a little cute. I’ve got the whole skinny and petite thing going on.
Now, as a result of the abovementioned I mainly have guy friends. Let’s face it. Nerd girls are not a plentiful breed. (Shame really!) Everyone likes having friends with the same interests as you, so I’ve learned to gravitate towards guys because I have a better chance of finding nerdy people like me. Now, I mean no offense by any of this, I’ve just taken all I can take and it dawned on me, that maybe people just don’t know this and I know I can’t be the only nerd girl out there with this problem.
So, we’ve established that nerd girls are hard to find, so therefore, there are more nerd guys, making it difficult for some nerdy guys to find an awesome girlfriend who shares his interests. And I understand the search for love can sometimes totally suck but… asking me to “hook you up” with my “hot” or “nerdy” or “cute” girlfriends is NOT okay. Listen. I have… like… maybe 5 chick friends. They're either married, gay or already in a relationship. F-I-V-E… I really don’t know what is so hard to understand about that. Time and time again I’m asked, over and over and over and over to hook up my nerd friends with my “hot” friends. I don’t know if you guys just don’t believe me when I say I don’t have any, like, do you think I’m hiding them in my closet and that if you ask enough that I’m magically going to pull one out, dust her off and be like “JUST KIDDING!!! Here she is!! All ready for a good fucking!” … No. Not even a little. Not at all...
Now, ladies, this goes both ways. It’s not cool to ask our dude friends to hook us up. Mostly because dudes aren’t good at this shit and they’d probably fuck it up anyway. No offense. And I mean, we're really no better at it, too.
Listen, I don’t mind being a friend, lending an ear, giving advice and such on just about anything. But seriously. I’m not your secretary; I am not going to catalog every hot and potentially single girl that walks into my life just so I can later tell you when you ask me for the millionth time. I have a life! I have my own shit to worry about and I’m sorry but I’m not adding your sex life to it. Stop telling me you wanna get laid. I can't help you there either. I understand being single sucks sometimes and that sex is like air - it's all good until you're not getting any, but it is YOUR life. Get out there! Put yourself out there! Say hello more! Wear a crazy funny t-shirt and fuckin’ walk around the mall a million times. The women that are worth a damn aren’t looking for you to climb a fuckin’ mountain and proclaim anything. They just wanna be made to laugh while rolling a D20. Come on.
So please. Stop asking me. I SERIOUSLY cannot help you.
Now, as a result of the abovementioned I mainly have guy friends. Let’s face it. Nerd girls are not a plentiful breed. (Shame really!) Everyone likes having friends with the same interests as you, so I’ve learned to gravitate towards guys because I have a better chance of finding nerdy people like me. Now, I mean no offense by any of this, I’ve just taken all I can take and it dawned on me, that maybe people just don’t know this and I know I can’t be the only nerd girl out there with this problem.
So, we’ve established that nerd girls are hard to find, so therefore, there are more nerd guys, making it difficult for some nerdy guys to find an awesome girlfriend who shares his interests. And I understand the search for love can sometimes totally suck but… asking me to “hook you up” with my “hot” or “nerdy” or “cute” girlfriends is NOT okay. Listen. I have… like… maybe 5 chick friends. They're either married, gay or already in a relationship. F-I-V-E… I really don’t know what is so hard to understand about that. Time and time again I’m asked, over and over and over and over to hook up my nerd friends with my “hot” friends. I don’t know if you guys just don’t believe me when I say I don’t have any, like, do you think I’m hiding them in my closet and that if you ask enough that I’m magically going to pull one out, dust her off and be like “JUST KIDDING!!! Here she is!! All ready for a good fucking!” … No. Not even a little. Not at all...
Now, ladies, this goes both ways. It’s not cool to ask our dude friends to hook us up. Mostly because dudes aren’t good at this shit and they’d probably fuck it up anyway. No offense. And I mean, we're really no better at it, too.
Listen, I don’t mind being a friend, lending an ear, giving advice and such on just about anything. But seriously. I’m not your secretary; I am not going to catalog every hot and potentially single girl that walks into my life just so I can later tell you when you ask me for the millionth time. I have a life! I have my own shit to worry about and I’m sorry but I’m not adding your sex life to it. Stop telling me you wanna get laid. I can't help you there either. I understand being single sucks sometimes and that sex is like air - it's all good until you're not getting any, but it is YOUR life. Get out there! Put yourself out there! Say hello more! Wear a crazy funny t-shirt and fuckin’ walk around the mall a million times. The women that are worth a damn aren’t looking for you to climb a fuckin’ mountain and proclaim anything. They just wanna be made to laugh while rolling a D20. Come on.
So please. Stop asking me. I SERIOUSLY cannot help you.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Violins Are Sexy!
So in case you can't already tell via my links but I am currently obsessed with Lindsey Stirling!
Check her out here
Catch my favorite vids of her in my links section to the right.
So here's a little tale. I don't usually pay for music. I just acquire it from friends and such. Well, I have REALLY been enjoying Lindsey's music and really want to support her and have her music to listen to whenever I want. Well, the most common and easy way for an artist to get their music out is VIA Itunes. I have ALWAYS, ALWAYS hated all things Apple and today only solidified this hatred.
So I see her music is available on Itunes. She has about 10 songs and she is featured in 3 rap-type songs that I don't want so I'm thinking, "dude, I'll spend the 7 bucks or so to get this amazing music." So I click on it and I discover I need an Apple ID. Okay, so I start typing my info in. I get to the password part and my first annoyance vein pops out. They had all these STUPID rules STUPID criteria you have to meet on a fucking MUSIC PLAYER... First, it has to include at least 8 characters, (okay not bad) At least one uppercase and at least one lowercase (okay, kinda gay) and at least one number (sure) you cannot use spaces (okaaay...) you cannot use the same letter 3 times (wtf, really??) no part of your ID or any and all parts of an Apple ID password that you've used in the past... Are you fucking serious????
It wanted a credit card so that could be the reason for all the weird password shit, but seriously, what if I just want the free music? I don't WANT to STORE my credit card on Itunes so that when Apple finally gets hacked my money isn't wiped out because I was forced to store my credit info on a fucking music site. Fucking gay man. I am SO fucking annoyed. Just further point to why Apple is EVIL!!!
Anyways, Lindsey Stirling is fucking awesome! I WILL get her music one way or another.
Check her out here
Catch my favorite vids of her in my links section to the right.
So here's a little tale. I don't usually pay for music. I just acquire it from friends and such. Well, I have REALLY been enjoying Lindsey's music and really want to support her and have her music to listen to whenever I want. Well, the most common and easy way for an artist to get their music out is VIA Itunes. I have ALWAYS, ALWAYS hated all things Apple and today only solidified this hatred.
So I see her music is available on Itunes. She has about 10 songs and she is featured in 3 rap-type songs that I don't want so I'm thinking, "dude, I'll spend the 7 bucks or so to get this amazing music." So I click on it and I discover I need an Apple ID. Okay, so I start typing my info in. I get to the password part and my first annoyance vein pops out. They had all these STUPID rules STUPID criteria you have to meet on a fucking MUSIC PLAYER... First, it has to include at least 8 characters, (okay not bad) At least one uppercase and at least one lowercase (okay, kinda gay) and at least one number (sure) you cannot use spaces (okaaay...) you cannot use the same letter 3 times (wtf, really??) no part of your ID or any and all parts of an Apple ID password that you've used in the past... Are you fucking serious????
It wanted a credit card so that could be the reason for all the weird password shit, but seriously, what if I just want the free music? I don't WANT to STORE my credit card on Itunes so that when Apple finally gets hacked my money isn't wiped out because I was forced to store my credit info on a fucking music site. Fucking gay man. I am SO fucking annoyed. Just further point to why Apple is EVIL!!!
Anyways, Lindsey Stirling is fucking awesome! I WILL get her music one way or another.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Someday...
I keep hoping that maybe one day you'll want to talk to me again. Maybe even be my friend. We were such good friends before and I miss you being in my life. I never fully understood why you left in the first place. No warning and no goodbye... just a blank place where you once stood. Maybe I should be mad? And perhaps I have been. But now... Now I just miss my friend.
New theme song.
New theme song.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Justice, Fucker
If you get burned by the same people I warned you about and told you to stay away from in the very first place, AGAIN, then I must say this to you: You deserve every fucking second of it. I hope it was worse the second time around. And I can strum nothing into your wounds apart from the sweet, sweet chords of justice. A long time coming and much deserved justice. Bitch.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Home?
I go to work. I sing along to the music that swims from my radio the whole way home. But as soon as I pull into the driveway I'm hit with a sinking feeling. This isn't home. It's a roof. But it's not a home. It's empty and it's cold. and most of all, it's lonely. It's shelter, but it's not home. And every day the distance grows farther and farther and I long for nothing more and nothing harder than to find a place I can call home. To find a place where I feel warmth. To find a place where I feel welcome. To find a place I can call my own; where I can finally, call home.
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