Love

Love, in all of its possible incarnations, is never simple or easy. It’s also never stable.
As if alive, it changes, evolves, withers, and, because it was born, it can also die.

There is a propensity, at this day and age, to think there’s always another fish in the sea, another gazelle in the savanna, someone else out there, So why fight for got what you have now? It’s so mucoh easier to pick another partner, to keep dancing…after all, there are 7 billion of us out there.

But that’s not exactly true, is it? No one will ever replace the one you left behind. You won’t ever go through the same experiences. Those moments you spent together are gone forever, left behind like discarded clothes.

So should you fight or let go?

I guess I don’t know. For me, I fight. I fight and struggle, bite and snarl, for every piece of love that wants to leave me behind.  However, if one doesn’t want, two don’t tango. And that love that exists between two people will become an old ratty cloth, full of holes, that is good for nothing but becoming a rag.

But that doesn’t discourage me, because at least I’ll have the memories to keep me hopeful. Hopeful that maybe the next one won’t be the same, but it will also be good. Like a new shirt, bright and making me feel happy.

But I’ll never forget that rag, and how it was once a new shirt that made was just as bright and made me feel just as happy.

I miss you every day.

There’s an ache deep inside my chest when I think your name. I reach for my cell phone to call you a hundred times in my head. But I don’t allow my hand to reach for the phone, because I know that if I do, I’m lost.

I miss you like I’d miss a limb.

Why don’t you give us a chance? That’s all I ask for. I’m scared too. Falling in love is scary. Falling in care is scary. But hundreds do it everyday, so why can’t we?

Come on, we’ll jump off the bridge together. Hand in hand.

And what if we crash and burn? What if we end up hating each other’s guts? What if? What if? What if we fall deeply in love? What if we have ten children and live in the country? What if we live happily together?

What ifs don’t make a life.

Your happiness isn’t completely in your hands, true. But we are given only so many chances. I guess what I mean to say is:

Here, take my hand. On the count of three, we jump. One. Two. Three.

Will you?

Will you miss me when I die?

Will you stand at my grave and weep and speak words of sorrow and of heartbreak?

Will you say “I love you and I’ll never forget you.”?

Will you miss me when I’m gone?

Gone to another place, “a better place” they say, to never set foot on your place again. When I won’t tell you ” I want you to kiss me” anymore. And I won’t caress your face and your lips and kiss you so forcefully so that you’ll understand what you won’t allow me to say: ” My heart aches when I’m with you.”.

Will you miss me when I die? Will you?

We Can’t Be Friends – Lorene Scafaria

“I wanna pick you up, I don’t care what time

I wanna drive real fast to some place in town

I wanna stress you out

I wanna make things hard

I wanna take your hand

I wanna leave this bar

I wanna wake you up on a driving train

That’s led its tracks down inside my brain

I wanna hear your band

I wanna give advice

I wanna meet your girlfriend, she sounds nice

I wanna take you home

I wanna feel my age

I wanna freak you out on a different stage

I wanna show my teeth

I wanna keep you fed

I wanna get you drunk and let it go to your head

So I guess this means we can’t be friends

I wanna unique

I wanna be your kind

I wanna make you hate me then change your mind

I wanna wear a skirt

I wanna make mistakes

I wanna kill you first and then take your name

I wanna tear you apart

I wanna make your bed

I wanna break your heart

I wanna break your head

So I  guess this means we can’t be friends

Yeah, I guess this means we can’t be friends

Yeah, I guess this means we can’t be friends”

Fairy Tales

What is so wrong with fairy tales? After all, everyone ends up living happily ever after. So why do we feel like it’s such an unnatural turn of our lives? Shouldn’t we feel like it’s where we should all end up?

Happy ever after isn’t such a bad thing, is it?

Most of us feel as if it’s a dream, but is it really? Is it such a hard thing to achieve? Or are our own doubts that make it so hard to reach? Are we programmed to believe “happy ever after” doesn’t really happen? Are we so dulled by society’s compromises that we can’t see true happiness anymore? Do we really believe it doesn’t exist?…That it’s all just make believe?

Or are we actually so numb inside that even when we do feel it we don’t realize it? Are we on our own way on the path to true happiness?

numbing

Yes. Go on. Numb the pain.

Pretend it doesn’t exist.

Distract the body and the mind with ordinary things, safe things.

Drink the bottle. Who will be there to notice if it’s one, or  two, or three?

Drug it all away, it’s not like anyone would care.

If the fates have been hard why tough it out? It only makes more walls around the heart and the soul.

So numb the pain.

When it’s all too new, when it doesn’t feel like it’s gonna stop…when it’s going to break the heart.

Let the pain in when it’s not so new…when it doesn’t hurt so bad…when the heart won’t break anymore.

What is a friend?

“What is a friend? I will tell you. It is a person with whom you dare to be yourself. Your soul can be naked with him. He seems to ask of you to put on nothing, only to be what you are. He does not want you to be better or worse. When you are with him, you feel as a prisoner feels who has been declared innocent. You do not have to be on your guard. You can say what you think, so long as it is genuinely you. He understands those contradictions in your nature that leads others to misjudge you. With him you breathe freely. You can avow your little vanities ad envies and hates and vicious sparks, your meaness and absurdities and, in opening up to him, they are lost, dissolved on the white ocean of his loyalty. He understands. You do not have to be careful. You can abuse him, neglect him, tolerate him. Best of all, you can keep still with him. It makes no matter. He likes you. He is like fire that purges to the bone. He understands. You can weep with him, sin with him, laugh with him, pray with him. Through it all — and underneath– he sees, knows and loves you. A friend? What is a friend? Just one, I repeat, with whom you dare to be yourself.”

Nursery Rhyme

"A man of words and not of deeds

is like a garden full of weeds;

And when the weeds begin to grow,

it’s like a garden full of snow;

And when the snow begins to fall,

it’s like a bird upon the wall;

And when the bird away does fly,

it’s like an eagle in the sky;

And when the sky begins to roar,

it’s like a lion at your door;

And when the door begins to crack,

it’s like a stick across your back;

And when your back begins to smart,

it’s like a penknife to your heart;

And when your heart begins to bleed,

you’re dead, and dead, and dead indeed."

We

We were fated to be. People live, people die, but we carry ever on. Time passes by, long-held traditions change and truth acquires different meanings. And through all this we stay, we observe and we give testimony. It’s our curse, given to us by the Gods, for the unspeakable things we did. To watch evil happen. To bear witness to ungodly things. So we stay, unchanged by the passing of centuries to be where and when evil arises. A punishment most apt. The flames of the fires of Hell would not burn us as we are made of dark thoughts and desires. The soothing quality of Heaven would not calm our spirits as our indifference was great and our souls long gone.

So as the hourglass keeps on turning we stay and testify. Not seen but felt in the corners of their minds. We are the darkness of the human heart that uses and seduces. We are in you and we see all.

By Kenyon85 – 50-words saga

“And there I was. I didn’t want to go back; I was drawn back. Not like a moth to a flame, with its final, fatal ecstasy of bright death, but like a moth to a porch light, wings beating helplessly against the glass, able to achieve neither resolution nor release.”