The fairies are blazing around the lake, waiting for him. He sees their watery blue eyes, ruby mouths, lanky hair. Their silver enchanted beauty is perfect and repulsive. He fights the current that draws him towards them even as he realizes he cannot break this hypnotism this spell. They laugh in anticipation of him, splashing water, coming forward to drag him inside the lake. As soon as he is within their reach, they cover him with caresses, feeling his human face with their hands and mouth, vying for his human love. With the very first touch he comes in contact with the black, empty void underneath the perfect beauty. Their emptiness cuts inside him, eroding his humanness. With every assault he weakens and dies even as they grapple for more. Finally he gives up.

-- In Love II - Black Sheep

And this... I dreamt.

I hate this... the feeling of being weak. Of needing someone else. Someone reading this... might think this is about her. Get off your high horse, your nothing to me now. This writing concerns someone of a much higher importance then you - someone who will never read this.

I hate feeling like i need someone. Need someone to be around, to talk to, to never leave.

I hate lieing in bed, memorizing the exact way my ceiling looks, every crack in the paint and every ripple in the building. I hate not having the night swallowing me up and taking me to a place where no matter how bright and sunny or dark and scary, my mind is calm. I hate the fact... that night doesnt come to me anymore. I hate the fact that i lost what i had. I hate the fact that i let it slip, for a dream...

I wonder why... i even bother. Bother to try, bother to live, bother to breathe. If it would just stop - maybe there would be peace. Thats all im looking for... a little bit of peace.

A little bit of peace inside of my mind - inside of my heart - inside of my world.

A little bit of peace. Thats all...

Chevelle - Closure

Breathe,
Trust,
Bless me,
And her loose,
Climb hard,
Never be seen,
Closed off,
Rescue to free,
And just bless me.

Too side of time,
Your rebirth can't hurt,
Branch out behind,
The pain.

Closure has come to me,
Myself,
You will never belong,
To me.

Closure has come to me,
Myself,
You will never belong,
To me!

Had to turn,
They doubt,
You're sting of disease,
Phase you,
Ouch,
You seem this courage,
Go on,
Confusing this soul,
Hold my breathe,
Til you rupture!

Three days a sign,
Your rebirth can't hurt,
Branch out behind,
The pray.

Closure has come to me,
Myself,
You will never belong,
To me.

Closure has come to me,
Myself,
You will never belong,
To me!

Like a leech,
I hold on,
As if we belonged,
To some,
Precious pure dream,
Cast off,
You see what's beneath,
Now fail me!

I read today, someones nick, it struck me as so true, so i decided to pen it down:

"Damaged people are dangerous, they know they can survive..."

Run and tell all of the angels
This could take all night
Think I need a devil to help me get things right

Hook me up a new revolution
Cause this one is a lie
We sat around laughing and watched the last one die

I'm looking to the sky to save me
Looking for a sign of life
Looking for something to help me burn out bright
I'm looking for a complication
Looking cause I'm tired of lying
Make my way back home when I learn to fly

I think I'm done nursing the patience
It can wait one night
I'd give it all away if you give me one last try

We'll live happily ever trapped if you just save my life

Run and tell all the angels that everything is alright. . .
Fly along with me, I can't quite make it alone
Try and make this life my own

    -- Foo Fighters, Learn To Fly

A Dream Within A Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow- You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep- while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream? Edgar Allan Poe

"analysis paralysis. too much thought leads to inaction. unfortunately for the intelligent, there are very few ways to silence the voices screaming in our heads all the time".

--Taken without permission from WHY

Acquainted with the Night

I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet When far away an interrupted cry Came over houses from another street, But not to call me back or say good-bye; And further still at an unearthly height, A luminary clock against the sky Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. I have been one acquainted with the night. Robert Frost

I can write the saddest lines tonight.

Write for example: ‘The night is fractured
and they shiver, blue, those stars, in the distance’

The night wind turns in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
I loved her, sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like these I held her in my arms.
I kissed her greatly under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could I not have loved her huge, still eyes.

I can write the saddest lines tonight.
To think I don’t have her, to feel I have lost her.

Hear the vast night, vaster without her.
Lines fall on the soul like dew on the grass.

What does it matter that I couldn’t keep her.
The night is fractured and she is not with me.

That is all. Someone sings far off. Far off,
my soul is not content to have lost her.

As though to reach her, my sight looks for her.
My heart looks for her: she is not with me


The same night whitens, in the same branches.
We, from that time, we are not the same.

I don’t love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the breeze to reach her.

Another’s kisses on her, like my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes.

I don’t love her, that’s certain, but perhaps I love her.
Love is brief: forgetting lasts so long.

Since, on these nights, I held her in my arms,
my soul is not content to have lost her.

Though this is the last pain she will make me suffer,
and these are the last lines I will write for her.

Pablo Neruda

...the surprisingly tender side of erotic craving...

If we had believed in sin, our behaviour would hardly have differed.

interestingly enough
the list of people who cound never explain themselves to me
is the same list of people
who are the most important in my life...

no...
scratch that.

they ARE my life.

And i never knew why...

Watch me as i fall off the face of this earth.
As i grow smaller and smaller in your eyes,
until im just a speck - if i could shine you would compare me to a star.
But alas, now theres just nothingness where i was.

New Picture Everyone!

COMMENT HERE

I am the Commutative Baboon!

(Dont ask :P)

Note to Self:

No matter how much i hate waking up early, mornings are beautiful...