Despair, Devastation & Dysfunction

it began when I was young

2012-02-13T08:23:00.000-08:00

There’s a dirty vine that twist around the old house on Danny Drive. Were as younglings we learned of the hearts we would resurrect and kill; time and time again we do it. Did it. This cycle of forever is not going to change. My heart always runs through my mouth and stands twelve steps ahead. My mind over your matter? It never works.

We are a mess of errors and brokenness. Pieces of shrapnel with residual flesh.

I have not forgotten. How can I when my first life still shouts your name? I dream of you sometimes; or rather of who I wanted you to be, as though my subconscious operates for nothing but to ambush my waking world. The world in which you find out too late about what it means to live, to love and to be loyal to your own flesh and blood. This yearning is more than a shade of sorrow. It is a flame burning into itself, unto itself, and these tenth-degree burns on my flesh are more powerful than an earthquake.

I was the granted you took. I was the away you threw. I was the out you cast. Really, what voice do I have left to ask for anything from you? What word can I speak to change the mind of destiny to take us all back and make you whole and unbroken so that we could be as well? I can play with words for seven lifetimes. But oftentimes every syllable is a whipping.

Every letter is a flaying that eats layers of skin from kin. This cycle of forever is not going to change and sometimes I forget the forgiving.

Poems from the heart of Yoga: Go in and Go in

2011-12-13T11:50:00.000-08:00

"There is no controlling life.Try corralling a lightning bolt,containing a tornado. Dam a stream and it will create a new channel. Resist, and the tide will sweep you off your feet. Allow, and grace will carry you to higher ground. The only safety lies in letting it all in – the wild and the weak; fear,fantasies, failures and success. When loss rips off the doors of the heart, or sadness veils your vision with despair, practice becomes simply bearing the truth. In the choice to let go of your known way of being, the whole world is revealed to your new eyes."

By Danna Faulds,

Save Her

2009-08-17T03:28:00.000-07:00

What if she told you that everything about her
Is filled with half truths and lies?
What if all that she said, were full of scorn
And hate and guile?

Darling, watch that black crow
Everything about her has been all a show

She’s been living in a disguise
And lately it’s been so enjoying
But what is freedom in its purest form
When the possessor is hiding

She dances in her own music
The words roll out of her tongue
The orchestra will never stop playing
Breathing a symphony for her every wrong

It’s her addiction, compulsion, and her fatal mistake
Her eyes can see more than she’s showing
And her mind knows more than her telling
But she’ll never bleed

Once she falls, you’ll never know
She’ll keep it her dirty little secret
She’ll maintain the show

Go on, save her, she’s breaking.

Photo Credit

Dead Scrolls

2009-07-20T20:34:00.001-07:00

You are the only one that makes me feel truly naked, I
burn and bleed and wink at these dead scrolls that
lie across my hood, strapped on with sinew twine.

Deepest truths are often hidden beneath pale lips and
not until something's said are they finally known
like black beetles; shining carapaces vibrating with pulse.

A life that you helped take, waste and wring out to dry
shriveled and whitened, bleached and boned,
gutted and hung
like crustacean pearls on a guitar string.

A Healthy Dose of Insanity

2009-07-11T00:58:00.000-07:00

Smiling are my lips
Sinful are my words
Suppressed emotions; tongues that slip
Leads to the bereavement of the world

Held you close, your body cold
I watched your bloody beauty
We were laughing, crying
Tumbling soundly into ecstasy

♥Vivy's Nonsense: My, my, I missed you all! :]

Photo Credit ♥

Gravity - A Perfect Circle

2009-07-01T12:04:00.000-07:00

Lost again
Broken and weary
Unable to find my way
Tail in hand
Dizzy and clearly unable to
Just let this go

I am surrendering
to the gravity and the unknown
Catch me, heal me
lift me back up to the sun

I choose to live.

I fell again
Like a baby unable to stand on my own
Tail in hand
Dizzy and clearly, unable to just let this go
High and surrendering to the gravity and the unknown
Catch me, heal me
lift me back up to the sun

I choose to live.

Catch me, heal me
lift me back up to the sun
Help me survive the bottom

Calm these hands before they
Snare another pill and
Drive another nail down another
Needy hole
please release me

I am surrendering to the gravity and the unknown
Catch me, heal me
lift me back up to the sun

I choose to live.

Knowlingly

2009-06-09T07:54:00.001-07:00

As you sit in the emergency room,
a toddler climbing restlessly all about you
no extra hands in sight,
to help
to hold

Your eyes puffy from tears
of how you got to this place
how your life fell so off course
Or perhaps from
the pain in your
shoulder, hand, face or arm
fresh bruising
appears
as the sunrises

But you stay
allowing another person to treat you
in a way
that shows no love
no honor
and
whittles away at you
a bit at a time

The scar tissue takes hold
in side of us
a place
doctors cannot reach
or mend
and we sit
you and I
waiting
for our names to be called
our turn
our time
as we glance at one another
knowingly

Watch Me Fall

2009-06-06T20:09:00.000-07:00

Fantasy and reality tumbled together

Two worlds crashed as one

As details became hazy and blurred
Dreams turned existent and
So did the nightmares
And monsters in my closet
What used to be real
Seemed like a far-fetched delusion
And I continued to fall
Even in confusion, gravity
Could not be disobeyed
I am Alice in Wonderland
Watch me fall

Photo Credit

Random Temptation

2009-05-21T15:32:00.001-07:00

Tempted to just toss it all out
fill it up again
Check my watch to be sure
Something's sinking in
Wash it thoroughly
This memory's gonna fade
Take it through the heat
Let the edges fray
Tenderize it slowly
Push it to the edge
Eat it while it's still moving
And claw my way to my deathbed.

Sink and slow.
Ten and eight
Live it long
Procreate.

Take it back.

Take it back.

Hush, Little Suzie

2009-05-19T04:33:00.001-07:00

Hush, little Suzie

Don’t shed another tear

For the rain will stop soon

And you’ll be able to run home

Hush, little Suzie

Just smile for now

I see the rainbow coming

And soon will follow a ray of sun

Hush, little Suzie

It will all go away

Soon the playground will be filled with laughter

And your heart will be, too

Smile, little Suzie

Laugh while you can

You’re still young and the world is cruel

But smile for now

‘Cause tomorrow is another battle

♥ Vivy's Nonsense: Hi. I just wrote this out of impulse, boredom, and fatigue.
Here's the Photo Credit.

Sad

2009-05-16T11:20:00.000-07:00

by TazDaStripedFox on DeviantART

A Song of Revenge

2009-05-13T04:33:00.000-07:00

by XIII

In this world, life's a race
You must never let anybody take over you...
In this world, make your place
You must stand up against everyone and fight...

If somebody gets you, don't let go
You have to give it back, XIII-fold
Dont leave that scar alone, ohhh-oh...
For it's gonna deepen till it hurts
And you've gotta screm out loud
Regretting your stupid action
Of letting him get away with it!

It's the only way to go
You must never leave it alone
Or it'll take over you
And consume your soul...
I have avenged
My former self
I know the sweet taste... Of Revenge...

It's time, to pay back
The one who destroyed you...
It's time, to take Revenge
You've gotta reveal the other side of you...

You've gotta know, certain things
Of the sweet art of Vengeance
You've gotta pay back with all your power...
And teach the enemy
The crushin' Lesson of Revenge
And leave him behind
To bite the dust!

It's the only path to take
To annihilate
Your gratest enemy
Your arch-nemesis...
You've gotta do it
You won't regret it
You must know the sweet taste... Of Revenge...

It's the only way to go
You must never leave it alone
It's the perfect chance
To reveal your darker side...
I have avenged
My former self
I know the sweet taste...
Of Revenge...

Revenge is sweet...

♥ Vivy's Nonsense: Not mine. Just posted for a friend's friend's request. You know the deal. Also, written as requested by the author. No changes were made at all.

I Saw Mommy Kissing Someone Else

2009-05-12T04:59:00.000-07:00

I saw Mommy kissing someone else
And he wasn’t my Dad

Why was mommy kissing him?
He’s not my Dad

Mommy loves Daddy, right?
And Daddy loves Mommy, right?

I cover my ears with my pillow
But they’re still too loud

I could hear them through my door
Screaming, yelling, shouting; so angry

Why won’t they stop?
I cry and cry and cry
But they can’t hear me

I hug teddy close to me because he’s scared
And I’m scared too
Please make them stop
Please make them stop
Please! Please! Please!

They stopped then—bam!
The front door slams

Then I heard the car and vroom! Screech!

No more.

I don’t want to look out my window
I didn’t want to see

I don’t know what was going on
And I didn’t want to know

I just want to stay here in the dark
With my teddy, and we’ll pray for it to be okay
And it will be okay because
Mommy said God loves me and He’ll make it okay for me

♥Vivy's Nonsense: again, credit for the photo: http://lilrenia.deviantart.com/art/My-teddy-bear-104865985
Hope you enjoyed it. :]

What's it Like to Lose?

2009-05-09T04:40:00.000-07:00

It’s ridiculous!
It’s humiliating!
It’s atrocious!
It’s unspeakable!

To lose to sex, drugs, and alcohol

I’ve never lost in my life
And this by far is the most mortifying loss I’ve ever had

To lose your best friend;
Your confidant;
Your non-biological sister;

To lose a whole world of whimsical childhood memories;
Shared laughs, tears, sweets, and juvenile secrets

Memories of favorite songs, first crushes and first kisses
Gossip bonanzas during sleepovers, and laughable pranks
All those lost and wasted promises

To care for very few people, to trust hardly anybody at all
And to lose.
You could’ve just ripped off my main artery and that would’ve been less painful

♥ Vivy's Nonsense: Ok, so, I just feel totally awful. My gosh, I'm so tired right now. Oh, and credit for the photo: http://facade-of-life.deviantart.com/art/Lions-Monkeys-Lost-Friends-11115751

Stood Up

2009-05-08T22:53:00.000-07:00

They made plans with me for tonight. I turned down three other things to do. Then at 4 this afternoon... "Oh, we have decided we aren't going to go to the play after all."

So I am here... alone (hubby is working) writing this. I could rant and rave a bit more, but I think instead I will just go to bed.

The Interviews

2009-05-08T13:37:00.000-07:00

So we have a job to fill, in this market, this economy, a wonderful thing to offer?

but as I interview person after person, my heart is breaking... the desperation is evident in so many of them, and I view them and I think - I'm sorry, but you are not up to this.. you are being caught out, you are in trouble, you are losing your job and you know your skills are failing you, you havent been trained, you've been caught in a bad place... they've let you down.. you WERE good...

I dont mind turfing out the bullshit artists, the fakers, the ones who blagged their way in - but the good people who I see and to who.. I have to say no.... but because of our Laws, I have to leave them waiting in hope for 2 weeks.....

And Christ its breaking my heart - I want to hire them, train them, help them, these are not bad people, they need help, they've been caught at a bad time in the economy and they dont deserve to lose their houses..... but the company is not a charity....

Not a good post I know, but certainly feeling the despair this week.

memories haunt

2009-05-05T09:57:00.000-07:00

cracked

dull

pulsing

emptiness

in the

dark

corners

heart

mind

haunted

still

with

memories

photo credit

Hospitals Smell Like Death

2009-04-29T05:05:00.000-07:00

Hospitals smell like death
No, really, they do
Their cold, white linoleum floors
And piercing bright lights that hurt my eyes
They smell clean—chlorine?
Clean but disgusting
Like the smell of sick and dead people
Forcefully buried by the scent of that chemical

I hate that place
Too much deaths and failing hopes

It’s like a big white expensive mausoleum for the damned
Built to make you sicker
And make you die slower

Built to give you false hope
To dream of a nonexistent tomorrow
Like a rainbow painted coffin

♥ Vivy's Nonsense: Sorry. I came from the hospital today to visit my--nevermind. Anyways, I just really want to express my personal hatred for hospitals and used it as an inspiration for this thingy because I've had writer's block for so long. It's not much of an inspiration, I know. ~lesigh. I still hate hospitals. Always have, always will. Oh, and all the images I've been using for all my posts are from deviantart.com. I should start giving kudos to the photographers or something. This photo's link is http://d3vvi.deviantart.com/art/Death-Is-Waiting-4-U-99114332. I don't know, I just kind of felt like it was my responsibility to give them credits. I'll try to do that from now on, I guess.

Physical Expressions of Grief

2009-04-24T09:53:00.000-07:00

Slump over. The slump is a good expression of misery that most people can recognize.

If that doesn't work, then let the corners of your mouth turn down. Ever noticed how some people get old and seem to have a permanently sad expression while others seem to look happy even when they're at rest? It's those mouth corners.

Well, here's another one, a bit old fashioned but it works: wring your hands. It physically expresses powerlessness. We do so much with our hands. Flinging them about says, "I can't do anything useful, I'm helpless."

Four Letter Lie

2009-04-23T06:29:00.000-07:00

Rose deep red like blood
Love so sweet like wine
Lovers engage in dance
Drunk in lust and lies

Her hair as dark as midnight
Her diamonds shine in starlight
And though they gaze in each others’ eyes
Deception lies concealed behind

Flowers die and wither
In its ugly wake it litters
Beauties fade and vanish
Like lovers lie akin to sinners

♥Vivy's nonsense: Why is the blog dead? Where'd everybody go? :'(

A Fading Fairytale

2009-04-04T07:14:00.000-07:00

I take a bite at the poison apple

I suddenly start to fall

What a shame

What a horror

Clock strikes twelve and I runaway

Leaving my slippers made of glass

I watch behind me and I look away

Will we see each other in another day?

A kiss of love I yearn

For a kiss of love I wait

When will I ever learn?

There is nothing to debate

I remain asleep in tangled heartstrings

Waiting for my prince to wake me

Reality dawns; reveals its ugly bearings

He will never come to save me

It’s too soon to give up

But it’s too late to hope

I remain lifeless and sleeping

But there you are trying to cope

Don’t bother, my sweet, don’t waste

Just breathe, my love, don’t wail

Good bye, my darling, my heart

You can’t save this fading fairytale

Sadness

2009-03-31T05:07:00.001-07:00

Artist: Bob Lee

Listen to the Silence

2009-03-28T07:13:00.000-07:00

The world is broken
Lies are spoken
People are blinded
By bright shiny things

Nobody sees
The darkness that crawls
Nobody cares
For mortals and fools

Nobody listens
To the calls of the living
Nobody hears
The silence that’s screaming

No Longer Angels

2009-03-24T04:49:00.001-07:00

Violet

2009-03-23T17:54:00.000-07:00

Violet by Hole from the album Live Through This

And the sky was made of amethyst
And all the stars were just like little fish
You should learn when to go
You should learn how to say no

Might last a day yeah
Mine is forever
Might last a day, yeah
Mine is forever

When they get what they want, they never want it again
When they get what they want, they never want it again

Go on, take everything, take everything, I want you to
Go on, take everything, take everything, I want you to

And the sky was all violet.
I wanna give my violet more violence.
And I'm the one with no soul
One above and one below

Might last a day yeah
Mine is forever
Might last a day, yeah
Mine is forever

When they get what they want, they never want it again
When they get what they want, they never want it again

Go on, take everything take everything I want you to
Go on, take everything take everything I dare you to

I told you from the start just how this would end
When I get what I want I never want it again

Go on, take everything take everyting I want you to
Go on, take everything, take everything I want you to
Go on, take everything, take everything I want you to
Go on, take everything, take everything I want you to
Go on take everything take everything take everything take everything

Don't Pray For Me

2009-03-18T22:38:00.000-07:00

Don't Pray For Me by Skold

an extra mile to cross the line
I kiss my Judas one more time
I die... for your sin

life is simple, life is sweet
the perspective from down on your knees
will kill... you from with in

fortune and fame
torture and shame
think twice
before you speak

glory and blame
it's all the same
my game
is your defeat

don't pray for me
I don't need your sympathy
I don't want your god protecting me
don't pray for me
I don't want your empathy
I don't need your savior saving me
don't pray for me

I don't care what book you quote
your poison is my antidote
I don't burn
and I don't breathe

wrap that guilt up deep inside
religion as an alibi
what more... could you need?

fortune and fame
torture and shame
you still
don't understand

glory and blame
it's all the same
some things
go hand in hand

don't pray for me
I don't need your sympathy
I don't want your god protecting me
don't pray for me
I don't want your empathy
I don't need your savior saving me
don't pray for me

sacrifice the innocence
when you eliminate the decadence
you celebrate an enemy
who'll blind your eyes and steal your dreams

(I don't need your sympathy
I don't want your god protecting me
don't pray for me
I don't want your empathy
I don't need your savior saving me)

don't pray for me
I don't need your sympathy
I don't want your god protecting me
don't pray for me
I don't want your empathy
I don't need your savior saving me
don't pray for me

Letters of the Dying

2009-03-16T06:08:00.000-07:00

I’ll never see my sweet sixteen

Don’t know when I'll see my friends again

I won’t see a glimpse of my debut

Or even practice my great adieu

I’ll never have a date for prom

Or get my hair done at the salon

I’ll never be able to get my license

Or get a new car as a present

I’ll never make a speech on my graduation

Or gush and be excited for my reunion

I won’t make it to my first job interview

Or be known for the things I knew

Nobody will ever give me an engagement ring

I’ll never get to pick a dress for my wedding

I’ll never have the chance to say ‘I do’

Or try to kiss my children’s boo-boo

I’m just an empty, hollow shell

A good for nothing little girl

I’ll never brighten my parents’ faces

Or fill up any empty, cold spaces

Naked As We Came

2009-03-13T19:01:00.001-07:00

Bereavement Captivates the Sinners

2009-03-13T06:42:00.000-07:00

Death shall hunt the sinners
Death shall hunt the saints
Death shall hunt the mortals
Death shall hunt with pain

Even the worst criminal
Possess a human heart
They mourn for their bereavement;
Succumb to pain in a clandestine art

♥Vivy's Blabs:

Well that was random.

My Dearest Friend

2009-03-12T11:33:00.000-07:00

My Dearest Friend written by Eve

I can't say I'm sorry because...
you never tried.
What do I mean to you?
I am never quite sure.

I am always there for you.
I always say "don't forget."
You always forget.
You are never there.

You blame your misery on me.
What did I do to deserve that?
I try to stay happy even when you make me sad...
or angry.

But I couldn't take it anymore.
And now you know...
how you've been and...
how I've been feeling...
for so long.

It's up to you to change things...
because I've given all that I can.

Why Me

2009-03-10T12:11:00.001-07:00

Why Me from the album Skold Vs. Kmfdm

Black shadows, bleeding hearts, Blood in Blood out
Two Together, worlds apart, Blood in Blood out

Why, Why Me, Why Not

***This is a really great song. And there's not many more lyrics than this honestly. This is the part Skold sings. He must've written it cuz it has that Skold-vibe. These are the 1st words I've heard from him since he left KMFDM over 5 years ago. Yay, Skold is back to his good ol' dark self again & I couldn't be happier. If you'd like to hear more dark/gothic/industrial sounds please check out THIS.

File This under Disgrace

2009-03-09T03:16:00.000-07:00

He is the monster in my nightmares.
He is the monster in my closet.
He is the monster under my bed.
He is the monster in the dark alley.
He is the monster in the darkness.
He is a monster.

And filthy monsters deserve to suffer for eternity.

When I close my eyes I could see him sneering.
Every time I’m alone I could hear his breathing.
When somebody touches me I feel him crawling under my skin; groping, touching, tarnishing my innocence.

I can feel him hurting me; forcing his filthy self into me.
I could hear him laughing.
I could see his eyes looking at me like his prey; his next helpless victim.

I feel his slimy tongue roaming over my body.
I feel him taking hold of me.

No matter how hard I try I could never remove him.
Never remove his skin, his smell, his voice, his filth.

Every time I run I could feel him chasing.
Every time I scream I could feel him coming closer.
And every time I could feel myself drowning.

And this is what it’s like to live everyday like your life is a living nightmare.

I Wanted to Be a Mother

2009-03-08T00:02:00.000-08:00

I wanted to be a mother
But not at the age sixteen
Maybe when I grow a little older
With a little more knowledge felt and seen

I never saw it coming
Never really thought of it before
Then my waistline went from three to six
That’s when I wondered a little a more

I didn’t think it was possible
The thought of me becoming prego
Maybe I was just naïve;
A slave of lust and my ego

I used to hate this thing
But I learned to love this bump
It might prevent me from partying
It also makes me moody and grump

My folks want me to get abortion
They want me to kill my baby
They said she’d be messed up and stupid
If I didn’t listen to what they say

But I wanted to be a mother
And I really loved my baby
So I gave her to a couple that would love her
Ones that could give her a proper family

Someday I’ll have another child
But she won’t be called a mistake
She’ll have a loving mother who used to be wild
And a father who’ll do anything for her sake

♥ Vivy's blabs:
Weird, eh?
Dedicated to those teenage moms out there.
Or maybe I just watch too much The Secret Life of an American Teenager. lol

Untitled

2009-02-28T18:43:00.000-08:00

Untitled written by Eve Noir

I don't know if there's a heaven or a hell.
But if there were a place like hell...
I think it would be like this.

Locked in
No way out
You can't smell anything but sweat
You can hardly breathe
Constantly wondering if you'll ever leave
Every moment is an eternity
Considered crazy
Pill after pill to make you well...
even if your brain feels like it's frying
People stealing from one another
People losing their minds right in front of you
You begin to wonder who you really are too
You lose something...you lose control
Afraid someone is going to hurt you...
even with "security" there
No one is really safe
No family around, no one there is a friend
You are so lonely that you can't help...
but to cry
Doctors assuming they know you...
but they have no idea
It's all a guessing game
The shocks will keep them from hurting themselves or hearing things...
so "they" say...
But it doesn't work sometimes
They're still the same...probably worse now
The pills fail sometimes...
and change them into monsters
The food makes you gag...
they think you're just an animal
Every day is the same
You think you'll leave tomorrow...
but tomorrow turns into...
another tomorrow.~

Lydia

2009-02-25T20:34:00.000-08:00

This story is based off of true situations.

Lydia lit a candle and began to wonder again. She wondered how much her life would change if things took a turn for the worse. She couldn't help but to wonder a lot lately. Her stomach knotted up when thinking about the possible outcome of her unfortunate position. Ultimately, her life would go back to square one. And she knew deep down that things would probably never get back to how they once were. Atleast not for a while.

Lydia had good friends, a sweet dog, and a nice home with a loving boyfriend. She never fully realized two things before hearing the news-how much freedom she had and how good her life truly was. Sadly, if she lost her home she shared with her boyfriend, she'd have no choice but to move back into her parents' home. And that was not a fun place to be. Her mother was great but her father and brother were different stories. Her father had quite the temper. He also hurt Lydia's feelings from time to time with his rude comments about the way she looked and acted. He never apologized and thought he was helping her by commenting on the way she lived her life. Lydia didn't quite understand that.

Lydia always thought she was a good person. But she had different interests that her father just didn't understand...would probably never understand. Oh my! Lydia likes skulls, she must worship the devil!, her father often implied. Lydia felt like she was a fairly normal girl but her father always made her feel so odd. She would try her best to avoid him when she lived there but sometimes there was no escaping.

Still, she could handle his temper and insults compared to what her brother was like. He was the main reason why she didn't want to move back. He was a compulsive liar, had issues with drugs and alcohol, and stole from everyone in the house, including Lydia. She didn't understand why her parents continued to let him live there while knowing he'd probably never get his act together. Lydia feared to live with him again. Sure, locks can be put on every single thing, but that's no way to live...NO ONE should have to live that way, Lydia thought.

Lydia felt great sadness when thinking of all these things lately. She couldn't help but to wonder if she'd go back to a life that made her scream inside every day. And with that very thought, she decided she was going to do everything she could to avoid that kind of life again. She was not going to passive. She finally felt some hope that things would work out. That maybe her life wouldn't change at all. "One day at a time, just one day at a time," she said to herself and then blew the candle out.~

File this under Dysfunction

2009-02-24T17:50:00.000-08:00

There are two kinds of friends. The kind that hear that your voice is shot, ripped raw, and flinch, telling you to stop talking, maybe even offer you a cup of hot tea to soothe your throat. Then there is the kind of friend who hears you straining to speak and suddenly has sixteen questions that require detailed answers and couldn't possibly be answered with a nod of the head.

It seems I have the latter. In multitude.

Scared of the Dark

2009-02-24T11:31:00.000-08:00

How can a simple closed door scare me so much?

See , in my dream , a recurring dream at least twice a week for ... oh more years than I care to admit, I turn on a light switch and the light doesnt work. None of the lights work, and I know its because someone in the house doesnt want them to work, someone is taking the light and waiting for me to run because when I run they will pounce.

I wake from this dream, the only nightmare I ever have where I am not in control of the dream, and I normally smile relief and roll over. Except today it was time to get up, so I turned on the lamp and it went "plink" and went out..... now all there is in the room is a closed door with a glow behind it and I know there were no other lamps on in the house, and as I puzzle this, the glow went out and there was no more light and its time to get up.

Suffer Well

2009-02-24T04:32:00.001-08:00

I suffer well, though I am always alone
Terrified of the Midnight Highway
The burning-fire steeds trample me on their way home
I can't send a singular thought tonight
At a blazing pace of speed
Something akin to that of light.

I hold within, a dire need
A facade worth supervising to death
Simply wanting someone to want me
Without a last dash of breath

Every time I hold a thing so fragile and precious
I fall a little deeper into a trap
Sending my soul into a cycle tenacious
and ten-times worse than life.

Untitled

2009-02-23T19:02:00.000-08:00

Untitled written by Eve Noir

Time & time again, you've let me down
You're not my friend anymore...
I don't know what you are to me...
What you mean to me
Something ugly has grown inside you...
And it doesn't seem to be leaving anytime soon

You blame me, you blame others...
But you need a new person to blame
Try yourself for a change

I've done nothing but gone out of my way for you
And you say I'm never around
I'm always here, how many times do I need to say it?
Well, don't worry because I won't be saying it anymore

I'm really tired of you
Tired of trying, trying, and trying some more
I don't even want to look you in the eye
You're not the girl I once knew...
So fun & full of life
Your eyes are empty now
You're nowhere in sight

I'd help you out if you let me but...
You've made it clear that you think nothing is wrong
And then you wonder why no one is around for you anymore

I want to believe that you'll be my good friend...
As you once were
But you don't see that ugly thing inside...
Still eating away at you

I always thought I could count on you...
You always said you'd be there for me...
But you're not
Are you sorry?

I wish I could say I'm sorry but...
I didn't do anything wrong...
I just tried to be there for you...
But you wouldn't let me anyways

There's only so much I can do
I didn't give up on you...
You gave up on yourself

Maybe one day you'll be that girl I used to know again
And I hope you'll try
Because I do miss you

Saving

2009-02-23T02:57:00.000-08:00

Saving

The outside is too dark

Even if I see the stars

Why don’t you come and save me?

Where are you, Mommy?

The big scary man laughed

He ripped my pretty dress

He pinned me to the ground

Said I wasn’t Daddy’s princess

He’s hurting me now

Over and over and over again

I’m begging him to stop

He doesn’t listen and gave me more pain

Daddy! Daddy! I called

Help me! Help me! I cried

I’m so young and I’m so cold

I couldn’t get away even if I tried

The big scary man pulled a knife

He punched me hard and cut me

I screamed when the knife scarred my face

I screamed for Mommy and Daddy

He thought I was dead and left me

I was left lying on the ground

I can’t talk anymore so I bled and cried

I prayed to God so I’ll be found

Mom and Dad said they loved me

They said God did too

They said my guardian angel will protect me

So, my angel, where are you?

Oh, the despair.
Really, that scared me.
Oh, and that was hot off the press, so I'm sorry for the flaws and stuff.

A Tease of Fiction

2009-02-22T08:34:00.000-08:00

This is something I've been working on over at No Girls Allowed. A snippet from the middle of a work in progress about Muses, it stands on it's own two legs, but you're welcome to drop by to read from the beginning. Simply click here to get just those posts (and don't forget, it's a blog, so start at the bottom).

~Pia

Enveloped in flames, I burn. Choked by smoke, I gag and cough. Tendrils of burnt-flesh smell snake into my nostrils and coil around my lungs, hissing, squeezing.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” Max whispers in my ear.

I can’t see him. My eyes are gone, melted, mushy puddles with scraggly optic nerves in the hallow sockets of my skull.

“I know it does,” he continues.

I can’t speak. My lips have cracked and peeled away, revealing not quite straight teeth, slightly yellowed by coffee and severely darkened by heat and flame.

“Is it still fair?” he asks. “Is it still right?”

My muscles are crisp and brittle. I fear moving. I wish only for unconsciousness, for death, for anything to relieve the pain of incessant burning, burning, burning.

Then darkness. Cool and crisp darkness like an autumn night.

I hear him snort in disgust behind me, but I am frozen in place, unable to turn, to blink, to breath.

“Yeah, I come across as an a$$,” he says. “I deal with it. It's not my problem if someone doesn't like me.”

“No,” I think because I cannot speak, “It’s mine.”

“Exactly,” he says.

The rain comes. It is cold, heavy, and blinding.

Nightscape

2009-02-21T06:16:00.000-08:00

I am hopelessly weak,
And can only struggle for my sanity.
I am pulled back to There,
Where I once dreamed;
Where I finally died.
Where I found life
Only after I escaped
Terrible skull-shattering screams
Echo inside me,
Then I realize
They are my own.
I tear myself from that dark corner,
Only to find myself submerged;
I can’t see where I am going.
It’s dark outside, up there
Wherever there really is
I don’t know
...I never reach the surface.

Drive Safely

2009-02-20T09:13:00.000-08:00

When my daughter was a senior in high school she was part of a program where they tried to show the kids the dangers of drinking and driving. It was all coordinated with the local police and firemen, they staged an accident in front of the school complete with a couple of pretend dead and injured kids, they "arrested" one girl and booked her at the police station, they took a group to the morgue, and every hour they would remove on of the participants from class and read their obituary over the loud speaker in a metaphor for how often some one dies in a drunk driving accident. All this was filmed and put together for an assembly that we were invited to.

Part of my participation was to write my daughter's obituary. I was cleaning out some of my writing files this morning and found it. I am sitting here right now with tears streaming down my face rereading this and thinking of how fragile it all is. All four of my children are well and healthy and now 22, 21, 20 & 20, but in a moment that can change. Please, always drive safe and sane, my babies are out there with you.

Here is what I wrote for that day (remember, this was a school event to show the costs of drunk driving, my daughter didn't really die)...

Jessica Mae
Born – September 19, 1988 – Died May 23, 2006

Jessica, beloved daughter of Laura and Kenneth died because of the horrendous mistake of a person who got behind the wheel of their car drunk. Jessica was loved for her generous spirit, her warm friendship and her love of life. She was a good student who had only recently learned of her acceptance into the freshman class at the University of California Riverside. She dreamed of studying English and History and wanted to use her education to make a difference in the lives of others.

Jessica loved to help others and was the LinkCrew commissioner at Etiwanda High School. She shared her love of learning with others, tutoring and reading to young children.

Her parents and siblings - Matthew, Aimee and Mitchell survive Jessica. Her maternal grandparents Nancy and Rick and her paternal grandparents Pat and Chuck also survive her. She will be missed by her aunts, uncles, cousins and all of her many friends.

He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man. - Antoine de Saint Éxupéry

Trilogy of Sorrow

2009-02-20T05:17:00.001-08:00

Seems so much time has passed
since I last looked down,
I've been too busy living
that I forgot where I lived.
Now as the day draws to an end
I must remember where my bed is.

To seek you would be an atrocity of my faith.
My fortitude compromised by
soft caresses,
flaying me open
leaving my true heart bleeding,
pumping red
all over the floor.
I held my heart close to me
so it wouldn't break,
and cracked it against my own hard head.
To be with you again,
would be a dream
but even dreams must end.

Ten more years and I'll forget you.
Five more years and I'll try.
I couldn't say it the last time I saw you,
in your arms, I die
I hold your memory with shaking fingers
Tempted to keep it that way
The day that I told you I love you
Has long since passed away
Now I walk alone
Footfalls in the freezing snow
A soft crunching in the wind
As I try my damnedest to let you go.
Keeping your company is not for me
And two more years would add up quick
In the night I'll still adore you
Standing in the rain and heartsick.

Ode to my Muse

2009-02-19T17:39:00.000-08:00

Hoping for a big bang of an introduction, my Muse runs off in search of smut. Yeah, figures. Welcome to my world.

So, in lieu of my brilliance, I give you brilliant song lyrics that will, no doubt, wake up my Muse so that she’s harassing me with ideas at 3am again.

Dysfunctionally Yours,

Pia

Song To Say Goodbye by Placebo

You are one of God's mistakes,
You crying, tragic waste of skin.
I'm well aware of how it aches,
And you still won't let me in.
Now I'm breaking down your door
To try and save your swollen face.
Though I don't like you anymore,
You lying, trying waste of space.

Before our innocence was lost,
You were always one of those,
Blessed with lucky sevens,
And the voice that made me cry.
My, Oh My.

You were Mother Nature's son,
Someone to whom I could relate.
Your needle and your damage done
Remains a sordid twist of fate.
Now I'm trying to wake you up,
To pull you from the liquid sky.
'Cause if I don't we'll both end up
With just your song to say goodbye.
My, Oh My.

A song to say goodbye
A song to say goodbye
A song to say...

Before our innocence was lost,
You were always one of those,
Blessed with lucky sevens,
And the voice that made me cry.

It's a song to say goodbye.

Unwanted.

2009-02-19T14:39:00.000-08:00

I go by Carrie, but you can call me Shadows if you like. Without further ado...a poem for your enjoyment:

Unwanted

A brief span of mockery
thus defined their outlaw ways
tempted by love and lust, drained
through the hole at the bottom of their fading hearts
They held hands together every moment; clasping
fingers sensitive to learn
that the body is hopeful,
but the struggles of the soul
are intended to be lost.

A Lovely Quote To Unbrighten Your Day

2009-02-18T12:09:00.000-08:00

"It's easy to cry when you realize that everyone you love will reject you or die."

~Chuck Palahniuk (Fight Club)

Half Jack

2009-02-18T07:01:00.000-08:00

Half Jack by the Dresden Dolls

half underwater
i'm half my mother's daughter
a fraction's left up to dispute
the whole collection
half off the price they're asking
in the halfway house of ill repute

half accidental
half pain
full instrumental
i have a lot to think about
you think they're joking?
you have to go provoke him...
i guess it's high time you found out

it's half biology and half corrective surgery gone wrong
you'll notice something funny if you hang around here for too
long ago in some black hole before they had these pills to take it back
i'm half jill
and half jack

two halves are equal
a cross between two evils
it's not an enviable lot
but if you listen
you'll learn to hear the difference
between the halves and the half nots

and when i let him in i feel the stitches getting sicker
i try to wash him out but like they say, "the blood is thicker..."
i see my mother in my face
but only when i travel
i run as fast as i can run
but jack comes tumbling after

and when i'm brave enough and find a clever way to kick him out
and i'm so high not even you and all your love could bring me down
on 83rd he never found the magic words to change this fact:
i'm half jill
and half jack

i'm halfway home now
half hoping
for a showdown
cause i'm not big enough to house this crowd
it might destroy me
but i'd sacrifice my body
if it meant i'd get the jack part out

see!see!
jack!jack!
run!run!
jack!jack!
run!run!
jack!jack!
run!run!
jack!jack!
see!see!
jack!jack!
run!jack!jack!run!
run!see!
jack!jack!
see!run!
run!see!
see!run!
jack!jack!
see!run!
jack!jack!
run!run!
jack!jack!
jack!see!
run!jack!
see!run!
jack!see!
run!jack!jack!run!
run!jack!jack!run!
RUN!JACK!RUN!

Twelve

2009-02-18T04:44:00.000-08:00

She stood with her back against the wall
counting the grey tiles between
herself and the doorway

They went in, they came out, none spoke to her
She stood with her back against the wall
twelve tiles between her and seeing him

She heard the cry of agony
twelve steps would take her to him
instead she turned away, faced the wall weeping

Twelve steps were not enough this night
to keep her from harming
the one who had tried to save her

Written from the prompt at Daily Writing Practice Empty Hallway

RIP

2009-02-17T12:30:00.000-08:00

There was no denial of it, there was no covering it up, there is only the raspy, labored breaths and the harsh reality that all that lives must end one day, and bitterly underneath that was the fact that I cannot change it, I can only witness it. My husband is driving like a bat out of hell and talking but I do not hear him because I am lost in my storm of desperate and maddening thoughts while Boo stands in the backseat trying to balance himself in the middle, sticking his Bulldog face up between the front seats. He is drooling like never before and now there are secretions coming from his nose, as I wipe at them I wonder if this is how it ends, drowning in his own fluids? I look out the front window crying like a child for a moment, in an attempt to escape this ache in my heart but then sucking in a deep breath and unbuckling my seat belt I kneel on the passenger side seat so that I am facing into the back where Boo looks at me, stops pacing and for the first time in 24 hours lays down. I put my hands on him and he is still breathing as I begin to softly talk to him of how I love him and how wonderful he is, I plead for him to hang on a little bit longer, we are almost there I tell him, attempting to reassure myself. Within less than a minute, I realize he has stopped breathing, he won’t respond to me, not my voice, not my touch, he is gone and I am changed forever.

Mon Amour

2009-02-15T01:14:00.000-08:00

Mon Amour

My heart used to leap
When you hold me in your arms
But now my heart, it weeps
For you’re taken by her charm

My cheeks used to blush
When you look me in the eye
Then you’ll give me a kiss
And release a contented sigh

You loved to touch my hair
And call me ‘Mon amour’
So gradually I lost you
And my heart does beat no more

So, belated happy Valentine's Day... I guess.
Well, I spent my Valentine's day alone at home, locked up in my room, sucking my Valentine's day themed lollipops, watching Burnt Notice and Paranormal State reruns.
Fun! Of course, in a satirical sense (but I love watching those shows and eating lollipops).
Now, I'm out of those stupid heart-shaped lollipops and Blow Pops and Chupa Chups.
Though, sucking lollipops are kind of exhausting and it hurts the ceiling of your mouth.
I also think that some part of my orifice bled because I tasted blood.
What a lovely mental image.
So what did everybody else, who had a love life and those who didn't (like me), do last saturday?

Shake The Disease

2009-02-14T17:02:00.000-08:00

Shake The Disease by Depeche Mode

I'm not going down on my knees,
Begging you to adore me
Can't you see it's misery
And torture for me
When I'm misunderstood
Try as hard as you can, I've tried as hard as I could
To make you see
How important it is for me

Here is a plea
From my heart to you
Nobody knows me
As well as you do
You know how hard it is for me
To shake the disease
That takes hold of my tongue
In situations like these

Understand me

Some people have to be
Permanently together
Lovers devoted to
Each other forever
Now I've got things to do
And I've said before that I know you have too
When I'm not there
In spirit I'll be there

Here is a plea
From my heart to you
Nobody knows me
As well as you do
You know how hard it is for me
To shake the disease
That takes hold of my tongue
In situations like these

Understand me

Sorry people, I couldn't find a good YouTube version of the original by DM. So here's Hooverphonic's version, which is just as good...maybe even better with a girl singing. Hm?... Strange though, I noticed Hooverphonic omit the "understand me" line in their version. Interesting...I wonder why.
Oh & hope you all had a lovely Valentine's Day! Deadly X's & O's~Eve

The Point

2009-02-13T08:30:00.000-08:00

The Point by Skold

[*Repost: 'Cause I just put up a video of this song from YouTube*]

Love. Blood. War.
Design. Deceit. Control.

There’s no one here for everyone.
Just stick around until I’m gone.
I love you so, it hurts.
For whatever that it’s worth.
And all the dark will fade away.
The rumors and the lies.
And no one will remember if you even said goodbye.

What’s the point in dying
When the world thinks you’re already dead?
What’s the point in crying
With the rain beating down on your head?

Greed. Hate. Lust.
Divine. Disgust. Distrust.

Happiness comes in a pill,
off a fifteen story windowsill.
You long until I die,
or at least until I try.
The afterworks told me nothing.
Our problem still persists.
So think about the stories,
and the bullshit that you’ll miss.

What’s the point in dying
When the world thinks you’re already dead?
What’s the point in crying
With the rain beating down on your head?
What’s the point in lying
If no one believes what you say?
What’s the point in dying
If you’re already dead anyway?
If you’re already dead anyway?
If you’re already dead anyway?

I hope you will remember me.
At least say so to comfort me.
You say goodbye so easily.
It’s now or never.

It may seem really pitiful but,
life became too beautiful.
The pain of love unbearable.
It’s now or never.
Gone forever…

A lil' FYI: Tim Skold is one of my fave musicians/lyricists of all-time. He usually just goes by Skold in his many projects. This song is from a CD that never got released but I found the whole thing online a while back. But of course it was on the internet! It was around 5-6 songs with awesome music & lyrics. I'm going to probably post a good amount of his lyrics here because they are just so great to me.

Broken

2009-02-13T08:14:00.000-08:00

i am the loose thread in the weave

the black sheep

that you percieve

the piece of the puzzle

that fell on the floor

lost for the ages

ever more

the one who cried

and made the most noise

the one who pained

and felt little joy

what did you do

to make me fear

enough to sleep with a kitchen knife near

what was I thinking in my childs head

to hide on the floor

beside my bed

i waited for darkness

to keep me safe

i waited to grow up

and get away

but now you see

i am haunted still

by the mother who hated

and the daughter who feared

Wonder

2009-02-12T12:27:00.000-08:00

Wonder written by Eve

I just wonder why.
Why he said those things.
Why he said we couldn't be together.
Why I wasn't the one.

I fell for him from the moment I saw him.
I always felt like I was shaking when we spoke.
My stomach was twisted in knots because I felt something.
And I know he did too.

He seemed so caring in the beginning...
But confused.
And I wanted to help him...
But he wouldn't let me.

He said he was too crazy for me.
He said he would bring me down.
He said he wasn't good enough for me.
But I don't know if all that would've been true...
Because he never gave us a chance.

Over time...
He said very cruel things to me...
And slowly he broke my heart.

And I wondered...
Why did I feel so much pain...
Caused from a person I barely even knew?

Now...
He says he's happy.
He says he's happy with her...
But I don't know if that's true.
But I shouldn't care anymore...
Because his face makes me sick to my stomach now.

I just wonder...
If he only knew how bad he hurt me...
Maybe he'd wish he wouldn't have said those things.
Or maybe not.

I just can't help but to wonder...
From time to time...
Why he ended things before anything even began.

And I wonder...
Why he could love her...
And not me.

But I shouldn't care anymore.
I should know better.
I should know that I was never the problem.
But I can't help but to wonder...
Every now and then.~

*Quick Note: It's past midnight, and I really edited this from what you may have seen earlier. The version I wrote earlier today was done pretty quickly before work and I thought I was content with it, but when I came home, I felt like changing things a bit. I thought with Valentine's Day in the air, I'd feel more happy but for some reason it's bringing mixed emotions.

Maybe it's because I recently saw this person. My boyfriend said (when I saw this guy) "Why do you care if he sees you?"...because I saw him but I tried hard so he wouldn't see me. I just didn't want to be anywhere near him. I didn't want to "run into him." Seeing him brings back nothing but bad memories. I definitely would not want to say "Hi" if he did say something to me. I'm doing well in my life now but when I see him (every blue moon) those awful & strange feelings come rushing back...and I don't know why.

What's A Girl To Do?

2009-02-10T07:27:00.000-08:00

What's A Girl To Do? from the album Fur & Gold
by Bat For Lashes

We walked arm in arm
But I didn't feel his touch
A desire I'd first tried to hide,
That tingling inside was gone
And when he asked me:
'do you still love me?'
I had to look away
I didn't want to tell him
That my heart grows colder with each day

When you loved so long
That the thrill is gone
And your kisses at night
Are replaced with tears
And when your dreams are on
A train to train-wreck town
Then I ask you now, what's a girl to do?

He said he'd take me away
That we'd work things out
And I didn't want to tell him
But it was then I had to say
Over the times we've shared
It's all blackened out
And my bat lightning heart
Wants to fly away

When you loved so long
That the thrill is gone
And your kisses at night
Are replaced with tears
And when your dreams are on
A train to train-wreck town
Then I ask you now, what's a girl to do?

What's a girl to do?
What's a girl to do?
What's a girl to do?

Heaven's Hell

2009-02-10T00:27:00.000-08:00

Hooray!
It's another day! And... I have homework. Japanese teachers are so cruel. And I survived picture day at school. Anyways, as I tried to desperately straighten my hair (and burn it in the process, bleh) my S***ty (am I allowed to say that?) best friend just decided to study (or just make a cheat sheet). Either way, I think we're starting to influence each other too much. ~lesigh.
Anyways, here's another gloomy poem from my collection.

Enjoy the sadness, lovelies.

Heaven's Hell

Full moon casts its lurking shadows
Brisk wind drifted to the silent landscape
Despite the inherent beauty of the night itself
In the grasp of nightmare nothing could escape

She was caught between remnant thoughts
A horrid dream of despair and fear
Condemned to watch this horror film
Her eyes shed more than a single tear

It played on the canvas of her closed eyelids
She struggled hard, trying to wake
She lay there helpless and alone
Fighting through the morbid death sake

Suddenly she shot up in her bed
Eyes wide and bloodshot from trauma
Looked around in her large darkened room
But found hollowness in a stoic persona

Ethereal materials surrounded her pale face
She felt the trepidation in her trembling body
Stripped stark-naked of all her defenses
She felt betrayed of what she thought would make her happy

And all this caused her irrevocable dolent
Caused her too much inevitable pain
All this so-called blessings gave her nothing but torment
And her sole companion was nothing but the rain

Tears slowly drifted in her pallid cheeks
All this sadness she's got no one to tell
She wanted to scream but can't bare speak
And she realized she was living in a Heaven's Hell

waiting

2009-02-09T08:34:00.000-08:00

The wind blew her tears sideways on her face drawing lines through the dirt and sweat that already smeared her cheeks. She sat, barefoot on the cold, steel underbelly of the bridge holding onto the rail that jutted out at an odd angle, dangling her feet below. She waited as the police with their sirens arrived and began to close off traffic from each side of the bridge. Waited still as a negotiator came near and made small talk, that fell on unhearing ears. She waited until she could wait no more, the wind lifted her hair and cooled her skin, as she looked down and let go. She was falling in what seemed like slow motion, head over heal until she was swallowed by the water below and the waiting became someone else's burden.

Dear Mom and Dad

2009-02-09T02:28:00.000-08:00

Hi everyone.
I'm Vivy and I'm new here (obviously). Well, there's not much I can say, so here's a poem I made myself. Hope you enjoy. :]

Dear Mom and Dad

I’m sorry I’m not that perfect
I’m sorry I’m not that smart
I’m sorry that I fell in love
I’m sorry I can’t stop my heart

Dear Mom and Dad
I’m sorry I’m not that pretty
I’m sorry I’m not that nice
I’m sorry I can no longer please you
I’m just tired of all the lies

Dear Mom and Dad

Sorry I have a lot of imperfections
I’m sorry I have a lot of flaws
Sorry I didn’t meet your expectations
I’m sorry I broke some of your laws

Dear Mom and Dad

So now I take my leave
My apologies I bid you
Don’t worry I won’t live
Just remember that I love you

P.S.Sorry for my bloody mess.

She's got the whole world in her hands...

2009-02-05T11:19:00.000-08:00

I was crying, not the sobbing, moaning type but instead the silent scared kind of tears that slid down my cold red cheeks only to be frozen on my scarf which your beautiful little head was nuzzling into for warmth. We waited for the bus as the blizzard kept on, the freezing wind biting my cheeks as I did my best to shield you from the cold. After a while I gave up on waiting and began walking down Peterson Avenue in the direction of home stopping along the way as needed to put you, your diaper bag and my purse down in order to stretch my arms and back. You would look up at me scared and cold, demanding to be picked back up with your little arms reached out and your eyes pleading just above your little cherry nose. I move ungracefully in the 2 feet of snow and I no longer feel my toes but you nuzzle your face in the warmth of my neck and your runny nose takes my warmth as I make my way through the drift's of snow where the sidewalk once was. Eventually I stopped looking back for the bus, stopped hoping it would come and understood that I was on my own, you were completely in my hands and the sheer enormity of that brought fresh tears to my eyes as I kept on making my way home.

Snakes and Spiders

2009-02-05T06:36:00.001-08:00

She said the high point of the weekend's excursion was tripping over a green snake. Snake. My worst nightmares are Freudian night movies of falling and snakes. The thought of camping on the same ground that a green snake calls home or highway is unsettling. Getting into my sleeping bag and curling up to a green snake would cure me instantly of my perennial itch for the Great Outdoors. At the bottom of the tent entrance is an opening between side and bottom zippers large enough for a cat to pass through if it skinnied itself. Definitely not a problem for a day-glo chartreuse snake.

When she yelled out to me, "snake" I expected the usual variety of green and black garter snake. They are as common as worms. Any other snake is foreign and equally unnerving.

Memories do not fade quickly when it comes to snakes. Years ago, the sighting of a six foot granite-red and sand-tan snake near the house makes me wary of the place even now. Walking up the railroad tie steps between the lower yard and the house, I am unaware a bull snake is sleeping on a step. I leap two steps when I spot the sleeping giant, heart in my mouth. Coming home from work, I'm directed to the backyard. A snake crawls out of a drainpipe. Above the white PVC culvert, a squirrel is poised to attack. The crunch of the squirrel's teeth on the snake's skin is loud and disturbing. The snake fights back biting the squirrel once, then twice in the area below its neck. The squirrel beats a retreat.

I'm not afraid of spiders. I should be more afraid. She's not afraid of snakes, but spiders strike terror in her heart. I intellectualize that snakes and spiders are as important as bats in the ecosystem. My mind is a strange jumble of fear and information.

A friend shows me her shoulder. In a motel room in a small northern Wisconsin blurb, she is bitten by a wolf spider. The shoulder looks like the aftermath of a bout with a prize fighter. An area the size of a grapefruit just below the top of the shoulder is multi-colored red and purple. The pictures from the emergency room visit are equally disturbing. I turn my head. I remember a camping trip in Canada. A man comes through the same portage. With a canoe on my shoulders avoiding rocks strewn in the path, I look at his face. His lip is huge. When he talks, his lower lip flaps like a small pancake.

An important point of communication arises, prompted by spider stories.. Because I do not share the same fear of spiders, I dismiss her feelings with an insensitive, "Ah, what are ya afraid of?" Then, an image pops up in my mind. She's lying in bed wrapped in bandages. Guilt and shame follow. Would she rush you to the hospital when bitten by a snake? Of course, she would.

In a relationship simple problems can make communication difficult. Sometimes the solutions are simple, too. All one really has to do is communicate. Talk to me. Humor softens terrible times. In an ironic twist, my sister tells me of her daughter's husband. He's walking to the convenience store for a six pack of beer. Along the way, he spots a snake in the bushes. He's intrigued and not at all afraid. Toying with the snake with a stick, the snake bites him on the arm. Undaunted, he purchases his beer. On the way home he realizes he has a problem. If he leaves his beer at home and goes to the emergency room, his no 'count brother will drink the beer. Solution, drink the beer and then go to the hospital. The flight for life helicopter transfers him from Georgia to another state because they do not have enough anti-snake venom. He dies in flight.

The snake in the picture? A stuffed reminder not to be afraid. The snake sits atop an old record player at the far end of the living room. Locals tell of a year when the drought was so severe, rattlesnakes descend the limestone cliffs looking for water. I live 100 yards from a river. It'll be difficult to sleep tonight.

Grump Certificate

2009-02-04T14:48:00.001-08:00

Feel free to copy and adjust wording to suit your

needs and current grumpy person in your life.

Just one of those days

2009-02-03T12:26:00.000-08:00

o.k. i was anxious to get out of the house for a little while before work, but let me tell you PEOPLE are CRAZY out there today! something's in the water i swear. i just went to a couple places and people were just SO rude. examples: running their carts into my cart while i shopped, brushing against me in the stores, not stopping their cars right away when i'm walking across to my car in the parking lot, standing in doorways like idiots-blocking me from leaving, and the best thing happened when i was driving home...

you know how when a lane is ending (sign ahead says "right lane closed" or whatever), and you happen to be in that lane...and not on purpose of course. well, some freak in a minivan saw me trying to get into the left lane (my turn signal was on to get over & everything) and decides to drive as fast as he could so i'd either be practically slamming my car into the sign (and the electronic arrow blinking sign too) or into his van. and before long, i was SO close from him smashing into the side of my car so i could get out of that lane. how nice, right!?? i was thinking "well, he's gonna let me through...i will definitely hit this sign if he doesn't." but NO. people can be so rude some days. i was just so glad to get home.

but now i gotta get going to work (hopefully that'll be o.k.). so i'm off to the again, (hopefully) decent roads & people on it. do you ever have one of those days were one thing after the other keeps on happening? today was a day where it made me really want to stay in my house when people act like that. and i wasn't even out long at all either, ugh! hopefully, that's the end of it.

(Silent) Poetry Reading

2009-02-02T09:05:00.000-08:00

Giving Up

I gave up on Writing today.
He was quite
upset with me.

“You have nothing to offer me.
Nothing published, no
acceptance letter in the mail.
What do I need you for?” I said.

“But
I give you beauty and understanding.”
he answered simply.

“Ha! I
understand.
I understand that I give until the little
drops of blood
fall onto the paper
and no one will pay me for any of it.
What do I need
you for?”

Writing was sullen and turned his back on me.

The view
out the window dulled.
The air grew heavy and pressed down on me.
Colors
all faded to a sickly grey.
Joy, once my inspiration, gasped for breath.

______________________________________________

Offered for the Gold Puppy Blog Fourth Annual (Silent) Poetry Reading. I posted one at A Bit of Laura Jayne too, but thought might be okay to have a bright and pretty one there and a bit darker poem here for your silent reading. If you are inspired to share on your blog do let me know.
What?
A Bloggers (Silent) Poetry Reading
When?
Anytime February 2, 2009
Where?
Your blog
Why?
Some poetry is warming. It cracks the ice in the heart of the Earth to remind her that spring is just around the corner. Or ... if you live south of the equator, choose poetry to cool the heart of the Earth so as to remind her fall is coming.
How?
Select a poem you like - by a favorite poet or one of your own - to post February 2nd.
What else?
Feel free to pass this invitation on to any and all bloggers.

Addiction

2009-02-01T16:41:00.000-08:00

Addiction from the album Cleanse Fold and Manipulate
by Skinny Puppy

desperate deranged talking in my sleep again eyes twitch

retain a sentimental something looked lorn and we burned and burned

I was a cinder body soul in my dreams breakdown amidst the mixtures

avoid addictive plea responding disillusion encrusted cruelty describe

why nails enclose me eating so evenly there exists a lot of reasons

to support fatality abstience possessed hardly what you think it is

hearts beat positive provided there's progress ignorance does insist of

the right coffin took some food offered me can't see myself drank the

wine wished the feverish burst of terror breakdown amidst the

mixtures avoid addictive plea insist that nothing happened chilled

bloodless fatigue recharge with bitterness fanatics beckoning mistook

a look impassioned absorbed with clarity consciousness drifts away

discarded memory packaged shelf life bad display breakdown amidst

the mixtures avoid addictive plea excessive near romances comfort

is treachery so pound the nails in tight eyes screaming out of sight

against a grain like curtain unbearably alive

Ill Lit...

2009-01-30T15:57:00.000-08:00

Gothic Lolita

2009-01-30T05:00:00.000-08:00

Gothic Lolita by Emilie Autumn

How old are you?
I'm older than you'll ever be
I've been dead a thousand years
And lived only two or three
I don't mind telling you
My life was ended by your hand
The kind of murder where nobody dies
But I don't suppose you'd understand
Call off the search
We've found her

If I am Lolita
Then you are a criminal
And you should be killed
By an army of little girls
The law won't arrest you
The world won't detest you
You never did anything
Any man wouldn't do
I'm Gothic Lolita
And you are a criminal
I'm not even legal
I'm just a dead little girl
But ruffles and laces
And candy sweet faces
Directed your furtive hand
I perfectly understand
So it's my fault?
No, Gothic Lolita

Thank you, kind sirs
You've made me what I am today
A bundle of broken nerves
A mouthful of words I'm still afraid to say
I don't mind telling you
Now that I'm old enough to love
I couldn't begin to even if
My pretty life depended on it
And funny thing, it does
Call off the search
We've found her

If I am Lolita
Then you are a criminal
And you should be killed
By an army of little girls
The law won't arrest you
The world won't detest you
You never did anything
Any man wouldn't do
I'm Gothic Lolita
And you are a criminal
I'm not even legal
I'm just a dead little girl
But ruffles and laces
And candy sweet faces
Directed your furtive hand
I perfectly understand
So it's my fault?
No, Gothic Lolita

I am your sugar
I am your cream
I am your anti-American dream

I am your sugar
I am your cream
I am your worst nightmare
Now scream

If I am Lolita
Then you are a criminal
And you should be killed
By an army of little girls
The law won't arrest you
The world won't detest you
You never did anything
Any man wouldn't do
I'm Gothic Lolita
And you are a criminal
I'm not even legal
I'm just a dead little girl
But ruffles and laces
And candy sweet faces
Directed your furtive hand
I perfectly understand
So it's my fault?
No, Gothic Lolita

Easy Targets

2009-01-28T15:49:00.000-08:00

Shooting the people closest to me is a failing that only got cured when there was no one left to shoot.

Hollow Hills

2009-01-28T06:47:00.000-08:00

Hollow Hills by Bauhaus

Ancient Earth work fort and barrow
Discreetly hide their secret abodes
The most fearful hide deep inside
And venture not there upon Yuletide

For invasion of their hollow hills
That music hold and Oberon fill
Is surely recommended not
For fear of death, in fear of rot

Hollow hills
Hollow hills
Hollow hills
Hollow hills

Baleful sounds and wild voices ignored
Ill luck disaster the one reward
Violated sanctity of supermen's hills
So sad, love lies there still
So sad
So sad
Hollow hills
Hollow hills
Witches too and goblin too and speckled sills
Lament repent oh mortal you
So sad
So sad

Poor Donny Vol. 1

2009-01-27T20:29:00.000-08:00

My Own Space

2009-01-27T12:58:00.001-08:00

I need a little now and then

Some time for me

Away from it all

Without obligation to anyone

My own space

I need a little now and then

Hearing without noise

In a quiet place

Leaving questions unanswered

My own space

I need a little now and then

Words without speech

Drifting through my mind

No one to listen

My own space

I need a little now and then

Guilt left behind me

In search of freedom

Releasing inner desires

My own space

I need a little now and then

My own space

Hannah’s Dream

2009-01-27T11:19:00.000-08:00

"All… most… there,” he said, grunting into her ear.

She clenched her teeth fighting the urge to vomit. This was the final payment necessary. Just this one last time.

With a guttural moan he at last rolled off her body.

"Was it worth it Hannah?” he asked, his meaty hand still groping at her. He seldom called her by name, preferring instead horrid little nicknames that made her ache inside. Hannah curled on her side moving away from his sweaty hand.

Was it worth it? Such a question to ask after extracting such a payment. But Hannah would not allow herself the luxury of regret now. She had made the final payment and now it was hers.

Hannah moved from the bed and into the tiny bathroom. A small trickle of brown water was all that came from the rusted faucet. She splashed her face and then ran the small grimy towel under the water. She knew she couldn’t get truly clean, but it was enough just to scrub his stench from her skin.

"So are you really sure it’s worth the risk? Why do you want it so bad?” he yelled at her from the bed.

That was all she could take. She had paid him in full; the very idea of having to explain herself to him made her nearly as sick as the act she had just submitted herself to.

"Don’t, don’t you dare, ask me these things you man. Is it worth the risk?” she said as she buttoned her worn dress glaring at him. "Don’t you for a moment think I don’t know the risk. I know all too well, torture, death, or worse. Yes, men will always think of something worse. As for why I want it? How could I ever begin to explain that to you.” Hannah spat at him as he lay there; flaccid, fat, sweaty, man. "I paid you well for it. I paid for your silence too. It is mine now, and I want it."

"Fine, go take it. It’s out there on the shelf, one of the few left in the territory. I suppose you’ve earned it,” he said, tugging up his trouser, but not bothering to fasten them. He followed her into the main room, and watched as she took it from the shelf. She clutched it to her chest. Her excitement at owning such a treasure caused her to become almost lightheaded. She made her way to the cash register.

"Put your mark here, so I know it is paid for in full. Here, sign here, that I have paid you.” Hannah thrust the worn bit of paper that he had marked with her debt just over a month ago.

"Why you want to keep the receipt? That’s just more proof of your disregard for the laws. They can track this you know?” He snatched for the scrap of paper, but Hannah held it tight, pointing to where she wanted his signature.

"I won’t ever be coming back, but you mark it none the less. That way we both know this is paid for. I paid your price. I want you to sign!”

He licked his lips and sneered at her, but did as she asked, putting his big black letters on the little bit of paper with its unintelligible scribbles that he had used to claim her body.

Hannah turned away from him then. She made her way out of the dank store and into the street, breathing deeply the cold air of life. The setting sun provided no warmth for her as she stepped over the rubble and trash that littered the broken sidewalk. As quick as she could she made her way through the maze of alleys and back streets towards her small home.

"You, you there, girl. You there, stop!” Came the order from behind her. Hannah tried not to scream in surprise and sudden dread. She turned and watched the two uniformed men descend from the end of the alley towards her.

"Where are you going so fast little one?” The taller of the two asked.

"Home, Sir. I know I have broken curfew, but really I couldn’t help it Sir, really."

"You know you are not allowed out without a man as escort after the final bell.”

The smaller, weasely looking of the two said, poking at her with his night-weapon for emphasis.

"I know Sir. That’s why I was hurrying. I only live there, just up there.” Hannah pointed to the crumbling brick building that loomed next to them.

"What is your classification girl?"

"I am F14, Sir."

"Let me see your papers.”

Hannah struggled to keep her purchase tucked under her arm, beneath her dress, as she fumbled in her pocket for her papers. She thrust them at the two holding her breath. They hadn’t noticed she was hiding something, yet.

"It says here you’ll be ready for service next month. See right here, where it shows your birthday. You’ll be ready to be military issue then.” The weasely one lifted her chin with his night-weapon, his lecherous look made Hannah’s skin crawl. "It also says here you live across the city. Look here, read that address.”

Hannah dropped her eyes, wondering if they could smell her terror. "I can’t, Sir. Please you know I can’t. But, I know the address is wrong. We were forced to move in the last bombing, no new papers have been issued."

"Of course you can’t read it. And that is the way it will stay now that we have taken charge. Stupid illiterate women are only good for one thing, now.” Then to Hannah’s relief he said, "Go on. But don’t think I won’t remember your name and request you special. In just a month, little Hannah."

The two sentries laughed at her as she hurried away. She knew she had been luckier than most. Such encounters usually resulted in rape or often worse. Even though the military were provided with as many fifteen year old girls as they wanted, most still thought it was their right to take by force any strays they found on the street.

Hannah locked the door behind her after at least reaching the safety of home. "Momma, I have it. This is the key Momma.” Hannah dropped onto the floor next her mother, who sat silently in the worn chair, the only piece of furniture in the room. She looked up into her mother’s once beautiful face. Hannah opened it for the first time then, and solemnly traced the letters on the page. "S, see I know that is an S, Momma. It says, ‘See Jane run.’” Hannah struggled to sound out the precious words that Momma had tried to teach her using only dust and her finger so many years ago now. But that was before they had taken Momma’s eyes, eyes that had been taught to read before the annexation. Now Momma only had empty, sunken sockets where her pretty blue eyes had once been. But Hannah knew now she would learn, and she would read to Momma. Yes, she would learn, then she would teach others, and with knowledge they would fight, fight and win back their freedom. This was Hannah’s dream, something she would sacrifice everything for. Hannah read on, ‘See Jane run. Run Jane run.’

A Day at the Office

2009-01-26T18:24:00.000-08:00

It was this morning’s demand for coffee no cream,
yes, it was that moment that popped my spine in two.
I flopped around my cubicle in mild confusion
as limbs unable to communicate with
brain tried independently to give
two weeks notice.

The boss looked over the cubicle wall and,
observing I was busy and productively flopping,
obviously getting the job at hand,
left or right?, done,
walked away with the sure knowledge that
he’d inspired.

One arm reached for the phone,
one for the computer keyboard and both
pinky fingers tapped out their individual SOS,
all the while, left big toe flipped the Rolodex round
searching, in vain?, for the toll free number
to sanity.

when i die...

2009-01-26T07:21:00.000-08:00

when i die
i hope no one who ever hurt me cries
and if they do cry
i hope their eyes fall out
and a million maggots that had made up their brains
crawl from the empty holes
and devour the flesh
that covered the evil that passed itself off as a person
that i probably tried to love

~nikki giovanni

Missing Time

2009-01-25T07:04:00.000-08:00

Hello empty ones. I'm brand new here. My name is Eve Noir. Please welcome me into your miserable arms. I will probably be the lyrics girl here. God, I love one too many sad/dark songs. I love this song...I always like to say the line "Black is everything." Well, isn't it true?

Missing Time by MDFMK

Black is everything
Pull me right out of reality
The emptiness that's me
Black is everything
Put me right out of my misery
Do what you want to me

Life outside goes on
The world is crashing inside out
Gently hacking off the hinges

Erase the space, erase the memory
Missing time
What I don't know will never hurt me
Missing time
Cannot forget cannot remember
Missing time
This information is forever
Missing time

Black is everything
Got the answer right in front of me
It's everything I see

Time ouside moves on
The world I know is crumbling down
Bringing to a lost sensation

Erase the space, erase the memory
Missing time
What I don't know will never hurt me
Missing time
Cannot forget cannot remember
Missing time
This information is forever
Missing time
Erase the space, erase the memory
Missing time

What I don't know will never hurt me
Missing time
Cannot forget cannot remember
Missing time
This information is forever
Missing time

Missing time...
Missing time...
Missing time...
Missing time...

11 p.m. - 2 a.m.

2009-01-23T13:36:00.000-08:00

I know this is a bit hard to see, but this is right behind my house, last night, at about midnight. I turned off the flash on the camera so as not to appear totally Mrs. Cravetz.

We live in a nice, quiet, California suburban neighborhood. It is usually lovely and peaceful at midnight. But last night at about 11 p.m. the girl in the white car got in a fight with her boyfriend behind our house. Screaming and caterwauling (that is probably an archaic word, but I think it fits her fit) and he was screaming and cussing and the quiet peace was quite broken. And I was awake.

And then the cops came, and their lights shown into our bedroom window flashing blue and red. And they talked, and the girl screamed some more and the guy took off and the cop cars chased him around the neighborhood and I was awake. Then the fire truck came, because apparently in all this someone hit someone else and someone had to be examined and of course it makes perfect sense to send out the huge diesel fire truck and have it too park right behind my house at a nice and steady idle. Sheesh. And at some point the poor little boy who was in the car through all of this chaos could be heard calling out, "Mommy, I have to go potty." He repeated this about ten times and my heart just broke for a child in this situation.

So from 11 p.m. to 2 a.m. I was awake, and irritated and today, I am beyond tired. People just need to be... well... just take better care of your precious babies. Don't fight with crazy people on drugs, and please don't do it on the street behind my house.

Agitated with my agitator

2009-01-22T06:54:00.000-08:00

I'm forever doing laundry in this home with four males; my husband and the three little men (oh...okay, and me too...I make dirty laundry too). So, it wasn't unusual for me to begin the day with a load of washing. What was unusual was that I noticed the agitator inside was almost as if it was trying to trick me into believing that it was getting the job done. The noise was right, it sounded like it was working properly. It was moving, too; but it wasn't completely turning.

I've noticed it slipping now and then but not like this morning, it was hardly turning at all. {SIGH}

So...here I am, sharing my devastation with you:

Yes, I am AGITATED with my agitator!

Grumpy

2009-01-21T11:17:00.001-08:00

You know them

They know you

Those feelings of being unhemmed

A person torn into two

Those days

Not so much in full

But seemingly in ways

A moment feels so dull

No talk, No smile, No happy

Just for a minute or more

A feeling not good, to be grumpy

Please just don't come to my door

Blue Monday

2009-01-21T07:56:00.000-08:00

Grrrrr!!! I missed knowing it was the most depressing day of the year on Monday, January 19th.

According to Cliff Arnell, a former part-time tutor at Cardiff College, a school that barely wants to acknowledge he was even an employee (their press release after Mr. Arnell made his depressing finding known was..."Cliff Arnall was a former part-time tutor at the university but left in February"), the Monday of the last full week of January has the honor of being the most depressing day of the year. Wikipedia expands on this further should you care to read the pseudo-science on the pseudo-encyclopedia - Blue Monday

Apparently the formula looks like this:

W + (D-d) x TQ

M x NA

The variables are (W)eather, (D)ebt, (d) monthly salary, (T)ime since Christmas, time since failure to (Q)uit a bad habit, low (M)otivational levels and (NA), the need to take action.

Now, it has been quite a while since my last algebra final (which I did get an A- on) but I am not entirely sure this equation makes any mathematical sense. But hurray for some guy to come up with the formula anyway.

So let's see, other potential non-sensical formulas -

E=PC+40

Where the variables are (E)xpenses = (P)ay(C)heck + 40. Now this just has to be scientifically true, because no matter how much money I make I seem to always be $40 short by the end of the week.

H=(LXH)-(BXA)/K-L-D

Where the variable are (H)appiness = (L)oveX(H)ubby-(B)ossX(A)rseness/(K)ids-(L)aundry-(D)ishes

Oh, and here is one more...

(B-T)X(W-T)X(R-T)X(E-T)=0

Where T is time and B, W, R and E are Blogging, Working, Reading and Everything else equals zero. Yes, I know it doesn't make any sense, but neither does the Monday of the last full week of the year being depressing make any sense.

Mmmmm Mmmmmm Mmmmmmm

2009-01-20T06:03:00.001-08:00

Mmmmmmm - by Crash Test Dummies which is strangely depressing seamlessly merged with Weird Al's version. Perfectly dysfunctional video.

It Was a Sad Day

2009-01-19T08:19:00.001-08:00

Spam

2009-01-17T22:25:00.000-08:00

Do NOT click on these links, one of many comments left in the last 5 minutes....

superior has left a new comment on your post "Ho Ho Ho":
cheap handbags
evening
handbag
handbags online
ladies
handbag
luxury handbag

Damn the bots. Do they really think people want to click on their links... sighhhhhh. Seventeen messages in seconds. So the word verification is back on all the blogs. As I really didn't think you wanted their cheap handbags.

Cat's in the Cradle

2009-01-16T22:52:00.000-08:00

Always makes me feel sad.

Homeless

2009-01-15T14:22:00.001-08:00

Dirty pants and cheeks with days old stubble
has the man who sits near the entrance to the department store where
........................I am to get shiny new shoes.
.............Momma says sharply, “Don’t look him in the eye.”

I wonder then what would happen to me
if Momma let me sit there on the cold sidewalk.
........................If I sit next to the man
.............with the stained shirt and black teeth

will all the people wearing shiny shoes
turn away and not look me in the eye?
........................I wonder too if Momma would
.............just walk on by if I sat there

near the entrance to the department store,
a girl with no shiny shoes. Would she look in the eye
........................a girl who was not nearly as perfect outside or in
.............as a momma wanted her
..................................................to be?

Happy Happy Awards

2009-01-14T18:59:00.001-08:00

I am going to break my own rules and share with you some of my exciting and happy news...

In the last hour I have become unbelievably rich just by checking my email...

LUCKY NUMBERS: 8-4-1-9-0-0-5-12
Be informed that you emerged a winner of €1,000,000 (One million Euro) which was conducted this year.ashleythompson06@googlemail.com for more details. - I just need to send them a cashiers check for some random amount to collect my winnings.

Dear Sir/Madam, My name is Mr.West Bernard, and I work in the International operation department in a Local Bank here in South Africa On a routine inspection, I discovered a dormant domiciliary account with a BAL Of 36,000,000 (Thirty Six Million USD) on further discreet investigation I also discovered that the account holder has long since passed away(DEAD)leaving no beneficiary to the account the bank will approve this money to any foreigner because the former operator of the A/c is a foreigner and from Iraq in particular and I am certainly sure that he is DEAD and nobody will come again for the claim of this money it is only a foreigner that can claim this money with propear information. I need your cooperation to clear this money from the bank. - All I need to do is give them my bank account number and password.

This is to officially inform you that we have verified your contract file presently on my desk, and I found out that you have not received your payment due to your lack of co-operation and not fulfilling the obligations giving to you in respect to your payment.
We will send you an ATM CARD which you will use to withdraw your money via ATM MACHINE in any part of the world, and the maximum daily limit is ($1,000) However, Note that this method of payment will be granted if it is acceptable to you for the release of your contract/inheritance entitlement.
In View of this, you are advised to contact the Director(CBN, IRD,and ATM) DR.PAUL ADIM for further information with the following contact details; (dr.pauladim.cbn1@gmail.com)
You are required to provide the following information:
(1) Your Full Name(2) Full residential address(3) Phone And Fax Number(4) Occupation(5) Age
- Well now I better hurry I have already not been co-operative. I can't wait to be co-operative now so that I can get all this money.

We are pleased to inform you that your e-mail address has won the Swiss On-lineLottery. Therefore you have been approved for a lump sum payout ( £1, 500000.00 ) One Million Five Hundred Thousand Pounds Sterling in the Swiss On-lineLottery program held on 12th January 2009, and released today 14th January 2009. - WOW... two lotteries in one day!!!

So perhaps I will offer up all my bank account numbers, my name, address, phone numbers, first born bambino, toe rings, and a lock of my hair just to be sure I get all these wonderfully kind people want to send me.

What could possibly go wrong with that, these seem like very upfront and honest offers?

P.S. And I just got one more...

However, I hereby seek your consent to cooperate with me so that I canprovide you the winning information that won the prize funds of8,497,985 to enable you apply for the claim of the funds. Once the funds ispaid to you, Our mode of sharing will be on a 50......... 50 basis. i.e 50%will be for me while the remaining 50% will be for you.
All I require from you is your honest cooperation and confidentiality inthis regard to enable us see this transaction through. I guarantee thatthis will be executed under a legitimate arrangement that will protectyou from any breach of the law as I have mapped out all plans to ensure weclaim this funds without any trace in the future.
I look forward to your quick response while thanking you for youranticipated co-operation.
Best regards,Agent Smith - Oh, AGENT Smith, that make him official and I am sure legit.

_________________________________

Okay, the sad part of this post... people fall for this crap. And while these offers are entirely outrageous and easily deleted as Spam, which I did do. Some that come into our email are not so easy to detect. Some cons on the internet suck people in every day. That email that looked exactly like an email from my bank that warned of a credit card charge on my account that was fraudulant. I almost trusted, I almost followed their link. A girl at work actually deposited the cashier check for the car she was selling online and sent the guy back his "extra" money (about $500 I think) that he "mistakenly" wrote the check for. When the cashier's check bounced, she was just out the money.

Be aware, make your parents and children and friends aware, of the cons and the frauds. A good, really good con, can catch anyone unaware.

A few links that might help if you are thinking I really should contact Agent Smith.
http://www.fraud.org/internet/inttip/inttip.htm
http://www.scambusters.org/
http://www.sec.gov/investor/pubs/cyberfraud.htm
http://www.fbi.gov/majcases/fraud/internetschemes.htm

The Reading

2009-01-13T16:13:00.000-08:00

eager words
projectile vomited
onto laps of unimpressed

disdain for spewed
vowels and consonants
shows clearly on faces

unable to clean
the offending mass
of retched verses

I slink away
never to expose
this feeble talent again

"Open Mike 7 P.M. Next Friday"

perhaps just
one more time

________________________

And so I sent out this poor little poem and the rejection it got was delightful.

Dear Ms Laura Jayne,

Thank you for your submission of The Reading to our magazine. At this time we do not find a place in our publication for a work that includes the phrase "projectile vomited." We wish you luck in placing this elsewhere.

Editor

And now at last I have a place to place it elsewhere. Yeah, I had to create that place, but the sad poem has a place at last.

Radio Silence

2009-01-12T05:53:00.001-08:00

Penelope Camille- A True Story

In 7th grade we worked as office monitors. Once, just as the bell rings, she says,"Don't you wonder sometimes what IT is like?" She kisses me softly and walks away.

Throughout high school, I take great pleasure in walking into the auditorium behind her, marveling at her long blond pony tail and blue pleated skirt. I watched as she joined the cheer leading team, dated Doug M. , asked her to write something in my yearbook when we graduated. I lost track of her.

My ex-wife tells me to look up Penelope. Joanne and I are dating after our divorce. Stupid but not uncommon. I find that Penelope makes jewelry in a suburban cluster of buildings fashioned out of a defunct grist mill. I walk in and ask her to make me a ring. "What kind of ring?" she asks. Make something that you would make for the man you would marry. I know that she's 40 years old and single. It's a classic line straight out of old romantic movies.

We begin dating. I'm a free bachelor 2 weeks out of the month. After 16 years of penal servitude as bad guy, chief bread winner and keeper of the realm, I have joint custody of three children-one of which isn't potty trained. Penelope is coming straight out of a crippling relationship. Really, after discovering her lover in coitus on the kitchen table, she is unable to walk. She is confined to her bed for weeks. I'm also seeing a busty music teacher. I cancel a date with Penelope. The date with the well endowed music teacher falls through. 9:30 in the evening, the doorbell rings. My high school sweetheart is at the door. She thrusts a large folded piece of sketch book paper at me, pushes her way inside and tells me , "Read this." She's consumed an unknown amount of wine. The note castigates me for abandoning her. She wants to spend the night. I make sure that the encounter is strictly platonic-which it is, kind of.

After a whirlwind, fairytale Christmas, Penelope decides to join an ashram in Lenox ,Mass. I'm crushed. I sing, "Que sera sera," to myself and wait. In May, she returns with a different attitude. Eight hours of chopping carrots, a daily exercise regimen, fasting, Kuchicha tea and visions of Babjii's feet, she comes back in poor health. She asks me to marry her.

Our wedding was choreographed by Walt Disney. Part Hindu ceremony, part Christian, we hire a bagpiper and a rotund black woman who is the soloist at the symphony. Both force people to their feet. I bring them to their knees with a wedding program that includes excerpts of love letters we exchange before tying the knot. I should have been suspicious when a friend is consoling a sobbing Penelope in the back of the church. Warner Brothers could not make a better movie.

After the ceremony, we ride a white, horse drawn coach to the Women's Club on the lakefront. A 7 piece classical ensemble plays soft music while dinner is served. Rock and roll music straight out of Wedding Crashers and a last minute ceremonial drum session at our new digs rounds off the night.

Let me pause, for a moment while I compact the next 2 years, 7 months and 28 days.

It's late. Penelope isn't home. I'm worried. At midnight I call several hospitals and the district headquarters of the police. Nothing. Nada. Out of curiosity I open the bedroom closet door. All her clothing is gone. No note, no phone call, nothing. Two days later a man approaches me at my place of business. He asks my name and hands me divorce papers.

The following week Penelope and her boyfriend drive up to My house. As I approach their vehicle, I notice he's holding a silver scepter crusted with black onyx and jewels. The sight is so startling, I 'm briefly speechless. He holds it up toward me like they do in the vampire movies. "We want you to leave the house for 30 minutes while Penelope gets her things," he says. I avoid replies that could be cliches with a firm, No. Later she sends the same clown to my business with mortgage papers for my house I need to make payments. I emphasize the my house portion of that statement. I call for backup from the third floor warehousemen and dial the police. They escort him from the building. "Could I have hit him?" I ask one of the boys in blue. "Yes, but then we'd have to take you in also."

Enter Dawn my present wife. Being something of a white witch, she shreds notes from Penelope at the entrance to her jewelry fabrication studio. She returns everything negative Penelope conjures with her own brand of vehemence. Penelope hires an old, crippled crone as a divorce attorney. Here's the last scene before it fades to black:

The County courthouse has three doors. Before the days of metal detectors and security, all three are unlocked. I gaze up at Justice and walk in the door. At the elevator, I push the up button. The door opens. There's Penelope in a green shapeless wool smock. She looks like a nun kicked out of the convent. I gape and mutter, "I think I'll wait for the next car."

There's more, but I have been told by my superiors to rig for silent running and maintain radio silence.

SD 24 - Pitts 35

2009-01-12T04:29:00.000-08:00

It was a very strange season. But now it is over.

I do love sports.

But, it does make me sad that we are done for this season.

I am entirely not a fan of our current coach, Norv Turner. I think he is a poor decision maker and really doesn't care that much.

The Chargers played well late in the season. And Phillip Rivers has become a leader who really took charge and made things happen. This Sunday though we were just unable to overcome a superior defense, had some strangely bad breaks and made some costly errors.

So now, it is wait again until next season.

One Stolen Day

2009-01-11T13:06:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning the heavens opened and grey water fell from the grey sky, but I couldn't care less as unexpectedly the pain had lifted and it felt good just to go out - just to go out and enjoy being out, soaked through to the skin but full of hope that a corner had been turned.

On the happiness questionnaire they ask "have you stopped enjoying things you used to do" and the answer is "aye" but yesterday I wanted to do them all again, settling for what could be fitted into a single day - a trip to a new town, new food, new accents - buying gifts for people who wont be expecting anything.

Home, soaked and dripping water all over the floor, happier than I've been in 3 months.

A long wonderful night of just talking to a friend without having to say "sorry" every time I had to pause and count to 10 to regain composure. Wild flights of fantasy, silliness and seriousness, laughter to the point of hysterics.

"The you today has been completely different.. its you ..."

Last night I got to sleep soundly for the first time in weeks, and I needed no second invite to catch up on the darkness, and wow, to remember dreaming for the first time in ages.

When I got up, there was the pain, right where I left it - not a gradual slide back in, but more the cell door being slammed and the guard welcoming you back - "lovely day out was it, we might let you have another in 10 years.."

One Stolen Day Out of Time - that's really what its all about isn't it - whats that song by Elbow.. "One day like this a year will see me right"....

One perfect day, a recharged soul and a return to who I am. I can choose to hold onto that and face this head on - "I know you can be beaten my friend, you don't own me", or I can fall further down, more aware than ever of what it has taken and can continue to hold from me.

One Stolen Day - but who stole from who?

Lost Dog

2009-01-11T12:31:00.000-08:00

Lost dog--are there any sadder words? I read that posted on the telephone pole near my house, and there was a picture of a mournful beagle in black and white, fixing his gaze on me as I drove past. If you lose your dog, the world as you know it ends. None of the things you need to do are really needs. In fact, you forget all about them and focus on putting up contact information and pictures of your dog everywhere. Your kids go nuts. They won't go to soccer or ballet, instead they'll stay home and cry, call their friends and cry, post on Facebook and cry. They will somehow decide it's your fault, but that won't make you feel any worse than you already do.

I saw a documentary on the Katrina disaster in New Orleans. I felt terrible for the people, but the sign that really broke my heart was the huge black letters straggling over the white clapboard house: NO DOG FOUND. Three words carrying a whole tureen of grief. Movies sometimes capture this feeling. I still feel miserable each time I think about Sounder. He was a dog beloved by a sharecropping family's boy. The boy's dad stole food, was caught, and went to prison, and Sounder disappeared. The boy's dream about a happy return of both dad and dog was so heartbreaking. Where are my tissues?

S&G Being Danglely Sad

2009-01-11T00:01:00.000-08:00

Cheery Directives Picked Apart

2009-01-10T08:18:00.000-08:00

I am sure this is supposed to be something to make you feel happy and upbeat, full of possibilities, but let us take another look.

Walk in the rain...
and get wet and cold.
Smell the flowers...
and have your hay fever kick up and turn your eyes red and your nose stuffy.
Build sandcastles...
and get gritty, dirty sand in really icky places.
Go on field trips...
and pay too much for admission, and for lunch, eat fried foods, lose your car keys, step on a bee, get a bad churro and be sick on the way home.
Find out how things work...
by sticking a fork in a toaster and twitching for two hours.
Tell stories...
that no one appreciates and they only critique your grammar and laugh when you say you are going to write the great novel of the century.
Say the magic words...
and turn your car into a giant turtle.
Trust the universe...
I would never recommend this, it will surely be a very bad idea. Always beware the Universe.

And just who the heck does Mr. Williamson think he is? Kind of a bossy guy isn't he? Can you imagine going on a date with him? He might call you up and say...

Be pretty,
be happy,
be happy happy,
be joy joy,
be a pleasant, and upbeat, and cheery.
Be ready at 7:30.

Forget your misery?

2009-01-09T21:14:00.000-08:00

The neurobiologists have developed a drug that can selectively delete memories of rats and mice. They speculate it might be useful for humans too. I could be interested. I'm sorry I remember certain things. For example, my mother held my hand (so I couldn't flee) and made me go to ask Will for my tricycle back. I had given it to him that morning. My knees still shake when I think about knocking on his door. I'd love to forget the day I realized I could go to the senior prom after all, when I'd thought the date conflicted with a trip. I called Mac to let him know, and of course he had another date he'd asked meanwhile. He was so agonizingly polite it still sets my teeth on edge to remember it. And then, I suppose I feel guilt and sadness about my part time job in college, where I cut the heads off fruit flies. I needed the money. The guilt comes in because I invested each fly with a personality and name derived from dentists, professors of mathematics and physics, bad dates from the Naval Academy, etc. So, if you're sad, take heart. Soon the scientists will give you pills, and like Alice, you'll lose all contact with reality.

I Hope You Can Laugh

2009-01-09T07:49:00.000-08:00

Bored. Can't breathe. Can't go outside. Don't feel good. Tired of looking out the window. Can't write. Don't want to clean the house. Can't get excited 'bout nothing. Don't want to climb on the roof and look at the chimney. Don't want to walk around the house, lost, anymore. Don't feel like having a beer. Barking at everyone. Need someone to talk to, but nobody comes out here in the sticks. Can't think up any projects. Need something to occupy my mind and fingers, but I don't want to have to think. Tired of music, tired of the same old stuff. Can't even move the furniture around. Too darn lazy to feel the blues. I should whittle something, but I don't know what. I know this day will end up wasted. It really shouldn't. The only thing that makes me feel better is writing this. Even turned down a sloppy kiss from the dog. Things have been like this before and each time I don't figure a way out of the tunnel. If you know how, please tell me. Please, please don't suggest a movie. I hope you can laugh.

Hurt

2009-01-09T07:15:00.000-08:00

Ok, this one is beautifully sad.

This is a cover by Johnny Cash of Nine Inch Nails' Trent Reznor's song Hurt.

5.0 at first, but now just 4.5

2009-01-08T20:26:00.000-08:00

That little orange square there in the middle is us tonight, well about 8 miles away from us. 5.0 when I first looked at the Recent Earthquake Site, but now it has been changed to 4.5. Alas, no acutal devastation to report.

Well this at least looks a little more impressive. Our earthquake tonight is this big bit of green here on the bottom.

Demotivational

2009-01-08T09:07:00.000-08:00

Love this website and their too often true and usually funny Demotivational Posters. http://www.marcofolio.net/imagedump/top_40_demotivational_posters.html

Sad thing is... I have two Motivational Posters in my office...

One says... Cherish Today... One... Believe & Succeed.

Some days I shoot paperclips at them for target practice.

Little Girl Perfect - An Utterly Sad Short Story

2009-01-08T07:52:00.000-08:00

When she returned Mommy didn’t say everything would be all right as Christa hoped she would. Instead she ordered Christa to bed while pulling crumpled bills from her purse to pay the sitter. After shutting the front door, Mommy turned and slumped against it. Then with a sigh she combed her fingers through her messy hair. Christa stood in the hallway silently watching. This small act of defiance, this not going immediately to bed when told, made her young heart beat uncomfortably hard. Christa always did exactly what she should and even this one tiny misdeed struck fear inside her. Day in and day out she worked hard at her self appointed task, for if she were good enough everything would be okay. If she could only make everyone happy, then her family would be all right. But it wasn’t working anymore. Something was wrong and no matter what Christa did she could not seem to make it right again. No matter how perfect her bed was made, how precisely each toy was lined up on her shelves, how many vegetables she ate, or how well-behaved she was, it wasn’t making a difference anymore.

Mommy noticed her still standing in the hallway. “Christa, I told you to go to bed.” She sounded so unhappy. Christa searched her mind for something she could do, just the right thing she could say to make everything perfect again.

“Mommy,” she said, chewing nervously on her chapped bottom lip. “Do you want some of the macaroni and cheese Suzy and me made. It is the kind from the box, but we put in extra cheese. I helped, Mommy. I could heat it up in the microwave. I know how. Would you like that?”

“No. Just please, go to bed.” Mommy said with hardly any feeling. She turned away from Christa and walked into the kitchen. Christa followed, cautiously, quietly. Mommy reached under the counter for one of the bottles she only ever took out for parties. The smelly stuff Christa was never allowed to have a sip of, like Daddy sometimes allowed with his beers. Christa was near terrified now at her own disregard for the direct order to go to bed, but she needed to try again to make everything all right. Mommy still had her back to Christa as she reached for a glass and began pouring from the bottle.

“Mommy, do you want to see my report card? It came in the mail today. I know Daddy doesn’t want me to open the mail, so I didn’t open it, but I think I did really good, Mommy.” Christa spoke quickly so she could get it all out before she lost the last bit of courage she still held on to.

Christa’s question startled her mother, causing the bottle to jerk in her hand and the liquor to spill out on the counter. Without turning around Mommy slammed down the bottle, then yelled at her, “Damn it, Christa. Just go to bed. Now!” Christa fled to her room.

Now, on top of her covers, Christa lay curled up as small as she could get. She never let anyone else see her do it, but Christa sucked on her thumb now. Her other hand rubbing the silky edge of her blanket. The steady rhythm of these actions soothed her. She thought about what she could have done different, or what she could have said so Mommy wouldn’t be mad at her now. Unwanted tears spilled from her eyes. ‘Stop crying Christa, stop crying Christa, she repeated over and over to herself, but she couldn’t will the tears away. Finally she fell asleep, her thumb still in her mouth, the blanket clutched tight in her other hand, and her cheeks wet with her despair.

That was how Ann found her when she checked on her later. Ann knew that her daughter tried to be strong and grown up, but eight-year-old Christa looked small and helpless lying there, curled in a tight little ball. Ann felt bad for yelling at her earlier. She covered Christa with a pink and yellow afghan from the bottom of the bed, then gently pulled Christa’s thumb from her mouth. She was such a good girl. Ann hadn’t seen her suck her thumb for four years. Four years since she had told Christa that only babies sucked their thumbs and that she was a big girl now; four years ago, when the three of them had been a happy family. Now, well now, everything was different. Now Ann had the proof she had avoided for so long. Tonight she had seen the truth of it; she could not lie to herself any more. Once truth is known, it can not be unknown; and the truth was bleached blond, with long legs and a piercing laugh that had ripped through Ann’s heart all the way across the dark, smoky bar.

Ann sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed Christa’s baby-fine hair away from her tear-swollen face. Ann’s own tears began to fall and sobs shook her body as she struggled to keep them inside and silent. Christa woke then and looked up at her mother with serious eyes, studying her for several heartbeats until she sat up and wound her arms about her mother’s neck. “Mommy, what can I do? Please don’t cry. I’ll be better. I’ll go to bed right away tomorrow. I promise.” Christa held on tight trying to take her mother’s pain into herself, trying to protect Mommy.

Ann gently pulled the little arms from around her. “Christa I know when I left tonight you thought I was mad at you, but I wasn’t sweetie. I truly wasn’t.” She kissed Christa’s cheek. “I was upset with your Daddy and I needed to talk to him. That’s why I went out.”

“But Daddy’s in Frisco for business. He is going to bring me a souvenir, he said he wouldn’t forget this time.”

“Christa, your Daddy isn’t in San Francisco like he told us.” Ann struggled to keep herself under control. “Sweetie, you know things haven’t been very good lately. So much fighting and yelling. Christa, your Daddy’s not coming home on Friday. It’s just going to be you and me now, baby.” Ann closed her eyes, her chin quivering as a fresh onslaught of tears threatened.

Christa was smart girl. She knew what the unspoken word was. She had listened to the other kids as they told their horrible tales of this speech and the result, the beginning of their torn apart lives. Each story was slightly different, but it all ended the same, the end of everything good, forever – divorce. Right then Christa heard it, felt it even, far down deep inside of her, a terrified scream, so deafening in her own mind Christa was startled her mother didn’t comment on it. Then Christa realized, the cry was trapped inside of her, no one, not even her Mommy, could; or would hear it.

After a long silent moment Christa said, “I’m kind of tired now,” her voice so dead that it frightened Ann. “I’m gonna go to sleep now, Mommy.”

“Are you sure, baby? Don’t you want to talk some more?”

“No,” Christa answered, turning her back on her mother for the first time in her life.

Ann sat there a while longer just listening and watching her daughter breath. Then quietly she left the utterly neat little room.

Hearing the door close, Christa got up from her bed. With only a moment’s hesitation, she went to her dresser, the one she and Mommy had painted white, with pink trim and little rosebuds. She opened the top drawer and stood there staring at the drawer’s contents. Every sock was matched with its mate and rolled into a ball; her little girl underwear was all folded exactly so. Christa suddenly pulled the drawer out farther, tugging it until it hung loose and heavy in her small hands. The sock balls spilled out, the underwear tumbled to the floor in a heap. When she shoved the draw back in she left it stuck at an odd crooked angle. She pulled open the next drawer, and dumped out all the T-shirts and shorts. Then the next, out came her long pants and sweatshirts. She kicked at the pile of clothes, sending them flying. The bottom drawer held her favorite art projects, and all the tests and papers from school with their circled bright-red A’s. It was the A’s that tormented her now. Christa held up one test with its taunting 100% and ripped it slowly, deliberately. The soft tearing noise was as soothing to her now, as sucking her thumb had been earlier. She ripped another, then another and then in a near frenzy, two and three at a time were shredded between her little girl hands. Finally she pulled out a picture she had drawn just last week; Mommy, Daddy and herself smiling, holding hands. Daddy had said it was a good picture, one of her best. Christa now ripped it once, then again, then again and again, until at last there was nothing left but tiny colored pieces of paper-dreams scattered across her floor.

Hours later Christa lay curled in the corner wrapped in the pink and yellow afghan. The soft glow of her night-light enough to see by. Her other blankets were cut to pieces, tossed around the room like so much confetti. She had ripped and slashed at them with her kid scissors, working hard until the job was complete. She scanned the rest of the destruction. Not one toy or doll was left standing on her shelves. Her small trophy from the spelling-bee lay on the floor, broken. Her favorite Disney posters; Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, all had ugly blue and black marker slashing across their centers. Finally, there were her once beloved books, all her fairy-tales now lying in a heap, their pages ripped from their bindings; no more happy endings. One last tear slipped down her cheek and Christa thought, nothing would ever be perfect again.

Anxiety

2009-01-08T07:28:00.000-08:00

If you speak the fear it will grow to have substance
So try and quiet the screaming in your mind
Even as it nips at you with sharp razor teeth

If you share the fear it will become corporeal
And will beat on you until
You fall beneath its bludgeoning fists

If you fight the fear you give it power
For in the fighting you must name it
And naming is overwhelming voodoo

So do not speak
Do not share
Do not fight

Close you eyes; stay quiet and still
Wait until tomorrow
When perhaps it will be safe again

~ LJ

Eeyore Quotes Are Lovely Glum

2009-01-07T09:16:00.000-08:00

"Good morning, Pooh Bear," said Eeyore gloomily. "If it is a good morning," he said. "Which I doubt," said he.
"Why, what's the matter?"
"Nothing, Pooh Bear, nothing. We can't all, and some of us don't. That's all there is to it."
"Can't all what?" said Pooh, rubbing his nose.
"Gaiety. Song-and-dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush."

______________________________

"Eeyore," said Owl, "Christopher Robin is giving a party."
"Very interesting," said Eeyore. "I suppose they will be sending me down the odd bits which got trodden on. Kind and Thoughtful. Not at all, don't mention it."

_____________________________

Eeyore walked all round Tigger one way, and then turned and walked round him the other way.
"What did you say it was?" he asked.
"Tigger."
"Ah!" said Eeyore.
"He's just come," explained Piglet.
"Ah!" said Eeyore again.
He thought for a long time and then said: "When is he going?"

____________________________

"I don't hold with all this washing,"
grumbled Eeyore. "This modern behind-the-ears nonsense."

____________________________

There are those who will wish you good morning. If it is a good morning, which I doubt."