Dreams and Fantasies, Crushed by Reality, Crushed in my Sleep

Fantasies deteriorate, never to be realized. Dreams fade, or twist into nightmares that leave a mark. Reality is twisted, but sleep is a twisted reality.

Promise me potential,
the potential promise is pleasing.
Fleeting fantasies,
then the fantasies flee.
Left alone, only me.

It's been so long, but the feelings don't fade, they just hide. I can only hope they're hiding so far under the surface they can't cause me harm. Of course, how often do *my* hopes come true? This time was no different...

Get Over Myself or Does Six Feet Under Count?

Hello, my beloved reader. I apologize for the delay in writing, it really wasn't possible. I was in no state or condition to update you until recently. I will inform you tomorrow as to what I have been up to, but I insist that you think of me no differently. I'll give you a poem, but these feelings might be a little useless and/or outdated.

Sometimes I get lost in the maze of my mind...
Yet the image of you is easy to find...
Is it the end or is it the start...
Perhaps I have found a chamber of my heart...

Farewell, may your days be numbered beyond the counting...

It Was All Yellow or Sometimes Things Look Blue

Ok, the title sounds colorful, so I have to back it up....

I figured, rather than bombard you with aimless text, I'd vent my creativity elsewhere. That and I have not been posting enough pictures. If you'd like to see this picture in a different way, feel free to request. I was going to make the background black and white, but the blue suits my mood sometimes, and my life could probably use more yellow...

A little fall
A little tree
Tree feels fall
Fall turns tree

Leaves fall free
Some leaves stall
Leaves leave tree
Down fall all

Fall decree
Tree so small
Goodbye tree
Goodbye fall

Ok, I felt like being silly... I'm aware it's not fall, and the trees are naked and the leaves are gone, but I still have memories, time moves on.

Now, I have some things to look into...

Intolerably Cruel or Heartfelt Fool

[I'm going to channel some thoughts, call it creative writing...]

Deep inside I know it's wrong,
but I whisper as if by song.
I ask you to hate,
to reverse your thought,
but your face turns red,
your ears burn hot.
Every word is yours to feel,
I make sure that the stings are real.
I tell you that you're not to blame,
for it's the truth,
and my shame.
My words caress,
more bitter than sweet,
they flow as if from music sheet.
The feelings I felt,
far too strong,
they saved us both,
by not lasting long.
As we depart you say goodnight,
but it's the end,
I say goodbye...

Ok, I'm incapable of mixing rhymes in with writing, and since rhymes are more challenging I chose to use them... But this one was for me anyway, so I'll recognize no complaints this time.

To cause someone to suffer with sweetness, invoking memories, increasing the span of their duration, and the awareness of them... To make the victim more painfully sensitive to the extinguished possibilities... Seems to me more nefarious than severing the ties with cruelty. I can't help but believe it takes someone with a malicious heart and grim talents to twist a knife formed of cloying comments... And to feel somehow...innocent during the ordeal, to convince themselves that they are actually providing some form of service to the process of seperation? I think I will refrain from posting tomorrow, I loathe someone right now...

Start and End or Never Begin

I would like to speak for a moment, in generalities. Or maybe with rhyme, that's always a good distraction from the raw truth...

[This may or may not have any real world relevance, sometimes I just feel the need to remove thoughts from my head via any means possible, besides this is less intrusive than a butter knife (1).]

I allowed my mind to wander,
And in depth it did ponder.
Something about you,
Innocence, that wasn't true.

It was just possibility,
Very fond curiosity.
Yet now once again,
My thoughts will be free.

This is no surprise,
I didn't expect you to realize.
But in the end you'll see.
I wasn't testing you,
I was testing me.

[Hmm, I dislike this poem, maybe I feel rushed or 'differently inspired'... If someone else agrees it's poor quality, the poem and this disclaimer may vanish.]

On a lighter note...I present a snippet of paraphrased conversation from an anonymous vegan friend of mine...

"I have a gym membership, but I've never used it..."

"Well, sex is more fun anyway, you should try that as exercise."


"It's not quantitative enough."

"Hmm...use an egg-timer then."

"*DING* 35 minutes is up!"

[Where would a vegan get the energy for 35 minutes...(Don't make me footnote that, it was obviously quasi-teasing.)]

(1) Relax, it's a joke, no knife is touching my pretty hair.

Thirty Below or Nothing Left to Show

Yeah, four random topics today, all of them a bit dreary...


30 below

[Paraphrased]
"I'm smart enough to know my limitations, yet not dumb enough to be blissfully ignorant of them..."

"We'd probably both be better off with 30 less I.Q. points."

"Yeah, then I could have been president."

seepage

I fear my soul has sprung a leak, but I'm not sure if it's more like a sinking ship, or a wound that needs to be lanced... So do I hide it? Do I widen it? I'm not sure it can be widened, but perhaps it will close on it's own...

exposureNothing important:
I'm exposed to you,
Glaring painful and true,
Nothing left to hide,
You've seen my weaker side.

If this release can set me free,
Does that mean I escape from me?


pestiferous

I had a conversation recently...
Let me know what you think: (I) humanity or (II)humanity?

The spellchecker didn't know pestiferous, but neither did I.

Nothing left to see here, move along now...