25th Dec 2008
Where’s my lighter? Where the fuck is it? I hate this. You know how it is; you need something real bad which would mean you’ll almost never get it. It's like the little fuckball lighter’s hiding out somewhere havin’ a little laugh. Well, fuck the lighter, fuck this shitty apartment, fuck christmas and fuck you. I’ll just use the stove.
I light the cigarette on the stove and take a long drag. Feels just like it should be. Good.
On a cold night this, feeling the smoke creeping into my lungs bringing the warmth of a sure silent death, is bliss. Then the nicotine kicks in; jump starting particles of dormant euphoria in my brain. Ah, my best mate, Luckies.
And to think I never used to smoke…
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Absence: Love Letter
Dear Whoever,
Darling, I cannot stand this. It is just too hard to be away from you. I am usually okay, but at times like this it just becomes too much to bear. I cannot sleep at night from thinking of you.
I just have to tell you, to share with you part of my inner, secret self, the thoughts I think that everyone has but, no one says. I know that sometimes pride gets in the way of expressing emotions. I believe that is the cause of my inhibition in telling people how I feel sometimes. That, and the fact that passion or emotion in an extreme state can be scary. I almost just want to shut it away for fear that it will eventually overwhelm me. I think of my feelings, my love for you, not with craving, hope or even desire, but just with a kind of wonder that such things can actually be. You have opened my eyes to how love should feel. I can promise you this, I will never again settle for anyone else.
But, at this time in both of our lives, we are surrounded by possibilities of choice, open doors and wide horizons, which I know, may come between us. But I also know and hope that spite all this, we will stay together. It's a strange mixture of love, joy, sorrow, hope, longing and faith. And even though you are far away, you're all that I can see, all that I can feel, and all that I can think. I carry you with me through all these days and I miss you more than I can possibly say. Also, (fill in name here) - I love you no less than if you were here right now.
I know I have a tendency to be tactless at times - thus the reason for this letter. I think I will send it now, before I start to wonder what you might think of it. I love you and am waiting for the day when I put my arms around you again.
I love you. I miss you.
Darling, I cannot stand this. It is just too hard to be away from you. I am usually okay, but at times like this it just becomes too much to bear. I cannot sleep at night from thinking of you.
I just have to tell you, to share with you part of my inner, secret self, the thoughts I think that everyone has but, no one says. I know that sometimes pride gets in the way of expressing emotions. I believe that is the cause of my inhibition in telling people how I feel sometimes. That, and the fact that passion or emotion in an extreme state can be scary. I almost just want to shut it away for fear that it will eventually overwhelm me. I think of my feelings, my love for you, not with craving, hope or even desire, but just with a kind of wonder that such things can actually be. You have opened my eyes to how love should feel. I can promise you this, I will never again settle for anyone else.
But, at this time in both of our lives, we are surrounded by possibilities of choice, open doors and wide horizons, which I know, may come between us. But I also know and hope that spite all this, we will stay together. It's a strange mixture of love, joy, sorrow, hope, longing and faith. And even though you are far away, you're all that I can see, all that I can feel, and all that I can think. I carry you with me through all these days and I miss you more than I can possibly say. Also, (fill in name here) - I love you no less than if you were here right now.
I know I have a tendency to be tactless at times - thus the reason for this letter. I think I will send it now, before I start to wonder what you might think of it. I love you and am waiting for the day when I put my arms around you again.
I love you. I miss you.
Death
Have mortals’ verve ever ventured
To quiz your queer morale and roles?
Aren’t you a myth devoid of sense
Sheltered long, by immortal souls?
They disguise you by doleful names,
Though their dread has failed to scrutinize.
Glory to you if you have ever lived,
You are a legend launched in disguise.
They say you descend, but not twice,
Strange and stubborn for compromise.
Has man ever cared to confide
In your harmless heart of cries?
Dead asleep in the depth of night
I spoke to you with stone-blind eyes.
When I rose fast from the dead
At sunrise, I stained not your guise.
A welcome myth in you well masked
Threatens the king and the peasant.
So Dear Death, have you a date of birth?
My wisdom fails to trace your age.
When the butcher swings his blade,
What attitude would you embrace?
When the culprit climbs the gallows,
Would you smile at the scene in a daze?
Death is so closely blended with life,
Though fate of man isn’t imminent death.
To brood over Death as deadly foe,
Makes man insane and void of breath.
No mission was ever equipped
To challenge the immortal soul.
At curtain fall, the cloak is stripped,
In sequent scene to play his role.
To quiz your queer morale and roles?
Aren’t you a myth devoid of sense
Sheltered long, by immortal souls?
They disguise you by doleful names,
Though their dread has failed to scrutinize.
Glory to you if you have ever lived,
You are a legend launched in disguise.
They say you descend, but not twice,
Strange and stubborn for compromise.
Has man ever cared to confide
In your harmless heart of cries?
Dead asleep in the depth of night
I spoke to you with stone-blind eyes.
When I rose fast from the dead
At sunrise, I stained not your guise.
A welcome myth in you well masked
Threatens the king and the peasant.
So Dear Death, have you a date of birth?
My wisdom fails to trace your age.
When the butcher swings his blade,
What attitude would you embrace?
When the culprit climbs the gallows,
Would you smile at the scene in a daze?
Death is so closely blended with life,
Though fate of man isn’t imminent death.
To brood over Death as deadly foe,
Makes man insane and void of breath.
No mission was ever equipped
To challenge the immortal soul.
At curtain fall, the cloak is stripped,
In sequent scene to play his role.
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