uber_dustie

Wish

Together walk the crystal path,

Silhouetted by trees huddled near,

And sing the song of crickets.

As you wish.

Dancing in the thicket nearby,

Iridescent moonlight streaks the road.

Daylight creatures sleep away.

As you wish.

Planets wink from far away,

Wind whispers tuneless melodies,

We will fly through the sky.

As you wish.

Time stands still and nothing moves,

Serenity hums her silent tune,

Life has so much to offer,

If you wish.

5-28-09

What Rook and I did yesterday

At first, I didn’t want to do it. I was a little bashful about just whipping it out like that. But Rook and I have gotten used to each other over the last few weeks, so he seemed eager enough and willing enough to show me his without much prodding. Gently, he reached for it and set it before me. Wow, I thought! It looks so much like mine! His was a slightly more orange color, whereas mine was a bit pinker, but all in all the color was very close. After handling his, I eagerly dove into my bag to fetch mine. After I showed him mine, we both agreed it was quite similar in hue. Something peculiar I did notice about his, was that the writing was a bit smaller than mine. I suppose with my poor eyes, I needed something a little bigger. His eyes are quite good, however, so it would have been unnecessary for anything larger. After fondling the two, I decided to shake them in unison, as if playing maracas. We rolled them around. We had fun with them, but eventually started to get bored, so we decided to set aside our d100s to compare our other dice.

:P ye gods, I am a nerd!

5-17-09

Social Dysfunctions

Well, I finally came back from Rookland and am now sweating a lot at my Grandma’s. Curse her immunity to sweat and her refusal to use the A/C until it’s like 90 in here. Furthermore, I curse my retarded ass because I can’t figure out how to use it myself. Yes, Ms. College education; Miss four honour societies; Miss BA cum laude; CANNOT figure out how to use the air con.

Enough about my technological inadequacies; let’s discuss my social dysfunctions:

I am shy. In Korea, I was known as the shy girl who danced a lot (quite like a buffoon, but I always appeared to have such a good time doing it, I had a small fan club before I left). I would have these girls coming up to me asking me to dance for them cause it felt so good to see me dance. I’ve even had people asking me where I learned to dance and how they can learn to dance. Ever seen those cheesy 80s flicks where some nerd would go let it out on the dance floor, and everyone cleared a space, cheering them on; forming a circle around them, some even copying there moves? Seen those movies? That was me in Korea. There was this one club called Vanilla. It was your typical run of the mill hip hop/dance club with of course Korean music as well as Western music. They even played a little techno/rave music now and again. Good times. One day I was chilling in the foreigner bar, Speakeasy, telling someone about my experiences in the club there. He thought it was hilarious and thought I should try to do the same at Speaks. I insisted, of course, that I’m not that great of a dancer; it’s just that most of the Koreans can’t loosen up enough to try.

The hip hop picked up, and so did my tush. I shook that rump, I did some splits, I pretended to know how to pop, lock, drop, spin, etc. I was a dancing disaster and everyone loved it. I think they were trashed by then anyway. Most of all, they love my energy; how I put so much into it. I have had my critics; quite a few, but that’s OK, it was good times.

That was an insanely long background story to come meandering back to my point…

Well, now other than dancing, if I want to have a good time talking with strangers, I absolutely and unfortunately need some booze. I feel bad admitting it, but I do. It’s so tough for me to approach random people unless I can come to the “I really don’t care if they talk to me or not, I’m just going up there anyway cause the legs are moving in that general direction even if the brain is gods know where…”   

Last night was no exception. However, I will admit that I absolutely love the fact that my shy ass had the cojones to spend a year in Korea, going to bars by myself to see if I could make some new friends, or at least not suffer alone in my apartment the entire time. Even after Korea, I’m no social butterfly on a regular basis, and I’m still socially awkward. However, I have balls of adamantine on certain social occasions. Aside from my experiences in Korea, I must also pay respect to my friends and family in the Phoenix Council for the encouraging notion that it’s OK to say the first thing that comes to your mind; witty or perverse or just plain dumb, because that’s what’s on your mind and if it amuses anyone, even yourself to just go for it. It makes me happy. I still stumble over words, and my political correctness sometimes flies out the window when I’m that open; but it relieves certain tensions and awkwardness from situations such as meeting new folk, or amusing your old friends.

My experiences with my friends here and in Korea have taught me that although socially awkward, I can still find a place in a conversation. Sometimes I sit and let my mind wander; running away from social situations, especially those that make me uncomfortable with a slight twinge of anxiety that make me want to run and hide in the bathroom. (No that’s not the reason I go to the bathroom so much, I just really have lots of reading to catch up on).  :P

As crazy as I am when I go out to party, I still enjoy having meaningful conversations, and it’s because of my experiences that I’m finally able in some ways to bring together and harmonize my silliness, wit, perversions, and intelligence into a conversation with a stranger, without totally freaking them out…

At this time…

What do I want to do with my life?

5-7-09

So, here I am. Tap.tap.tap.

Yay. Yawn.

I am a restless soul, I am. I went to the far corners of the Earth, got so bored that I applied for grad school in other far reaches of the Earth. I came home to Florida. I love it here. My friends are warm, people speak my language, I can have engrossing conversations, I’ve got cleaner air, room to breathe and stretch my legs.

My friend has been nagging me about going to see Nine Inch Nails. She’s a concert virgin and wants to lose her concert virginity to Trent Reznor. She wants to have his baby. It could be much more feasibly possible than a good male friend of mine who screamed sarcastically his concerted desire to also have Trent’s baby. We went for a walk up to Wendy’s to indulge in my first frosty after over a year. Same stuff. As we walked around, two Chinese ladies meandered down the sidewalk to the store fronts, walking with their ass sticking out as an awkward effort to mimic the effect of ghetto booty. The language was so cute and reminded me of skinny little Korean ladies dressed to the nines. The difference was the Americanism of these women. They could have been “fresh off the boat” so-to-speak, but I loved them. They didn’t walk around with their ass tucked in and their nose in the air, daintily draping their shiny oversized purse over their tiny arms.

These Chinese girls were strutting casually and playfully; smiling light-heartedly, as one is wont to do in Florida.

Now, hold that that…

I have been accepted into two incredible colleges in two countries; Sweden and the UK. I don’t know 100% whether I can secure the loans or not…at this time. I do know that these are awesome programs that anyone in my field would be lucky to do. Then I wonder; what next? What will I do with the Master’s degree? Go off for my Doctorate I suppose. It’s my life’s goal; my ultimate dream. I will be successful, and valiantly save the world; courageous, yet humble. I will end wars and stop conflict. I will probably live in big cities where I can find a job. I will…wait? Big city? No…no…check that. How about a cute Florida suburb close to all my wonderful friends and family?

I’ve been pursuing my goals in life with horse blinders; looking neither to the left, nor to the right. I’ve been pursuing my ultimate dream…but coming back home…what is that dream anyway? What is this unscrupulous ambition that drives me barreling down the road to my supposed destiny completely unchecked or unhindered if not but for my own consciousness reviewing and revising the path I had chosen for myself?

I’m restless. My heart’s in two places at once; Korea, Florida, and the mysteries that lie beyond in Europe. I just want it all.

Back to my earlier thought…

People in other parts of the world are so uptight, but here in America –or at least in Florida, we let it all hang out. That’s what I love. Sure the crimes rate’s high, but so is the median temperature. The pollution is low, there are palm trees, gorgeous sunsets, stars that twinkle in the clear night sky, etc. What do they got in Sweden? Vikings? C’mon, we got those here now, too! What do they got in England? My ancestors, cool cultural artifacts, sexy accents, and really f-ing green grass. We don’t got that, I guess. OK, so I have some thinking to do. I love Florida, and it will be hard to part from it a second time, reliving the hurt and loneliness I felt much of the time in Korea, but I’m such a wanderer, such an adventure-seeker, that I really want to go.

Although my career pursuits guide me into the overseas direction, my heart is incredibly torn between here and there. I know the common response to this sort of query is do which ever makes you happy, yet it’s so hard to define happiness, or to prematurely decide which path would actually make me the happiest. And then there’s the pain in the ass funding issue. That’s a whole different story….

The Day I got Bored

5-6-09

So, life has been a whirlwind for a little while for me. I returned from Korea late on the 26^th of April, I was shortly thereafter whisked away to FPG for an insanely long camping trip, of which I had a better time than I had expected. I watched a movie on Monday, went to drumming on Tuesday, and today I did squat. As much as I enjoy doing naught more than picking my nose, reading the paper, or not being able to get out of bed, there’s something about a woman who halfway through her year in Korea gets so bored that she starts pumping out applications for grad school in Europe and the United Kingdom. Cause living in other countries isn’t amusing in itself, I need to wander about and do and experience so much more. Damn my wings. No don’t do that, I like them.

Last night, I had a dream I was in Korea. I would tell you about how interesting it was, but it was mundane as ass. I was supposed to be at work my first day 15 minutes before my class started, but I was running late, because unlike my last job, I actually had to leave my building to go for a nice little walk to where I worked. As it was in Korea, I could literally crawl out of bed, get dressed, and walk down two flights of stairs to go to work.

I almost made plans to go see Nine Inch Nails on Saturday with an old friend of mine, but after much consternation, it was decided that Trent Reznor would look like a mouse from the viewpoint of the $39 seats that remained. I’ve seen NIN before, but she hadn’t so she was a bit disappointed.

The other thing I did was catch up on Supernatural, went to the community center to see about using the weight room (with a whole singular treadmill to be shared by the much older crowd that usually frequents the place and I). We’ll see how well that works out. In the meantime, when I feel like moving my lard ass, I’ll try to find a martial arts place that doesn’t eat up all my non-existent income. At some point, I might try to find a job, but I hear those are hard to come by these days and in these parts.

The worst thing I did was taxes. Apparently if you fuck them up, the IRS sends them back to you. So, no need to waste your money on H&R block when your tax dollars are going towards those tax people that make sure you fill out fifty separate forms with the same god damn information on them, re-hashed. They send you a practically duplicated form of the one that you already filled out, so you can reprint the same number fifty more times in fifty different boxes to appease the bureaucracy gods. Here’s an arbitrary number, write this number below that number, subtract arbitrary number, multiply it by this number, write it down here. Is it more than the first number? No? OK, let’s stick with the first number so we will have been absolutely certain to waste your time multiplying, dividing, and hashing out numbers of dates spent jacking around in other countries on your piece of shit cell phone that lags worse than IRC in the mid 90s when attempting to free form an online RPG called chaosgarden.

/join  #digruntled

/me ends rant

The Perfect Distraction

So, here I am, back in Florida, and wondering where the hell I’m going from here, how long I will stay, and whether or not my boyfriend and I have a real shot of getting back together once all is said and done. I miss him so much. And what do people do when they miss their significant others. I believe we try to distract ourselves in one of two major ways:

1. Getting smashed and satisfying our need for physical interactions with members of the opposite sex, as a means of getting over or ignoring the painful feelings one has when they are away from the one that they love…. Or…

2. Smothering yourself in the attention of others; mainly friends, and trying to make new friends to ease one’s painful emotions of loneliness.

I suppose I could add a third:

3. Sulk in a deep pit of despair and hopelessness, escaping the bonds of reality for your own world of desperation; traveling the downward spiral of apathy until you waste away this mortal coil….

Ok…enough of that, I chose two, although number one doesn’t sound half bad.

I love my friends so much. I was greeted with warmth I had forgotten. It had to be re-forged in my mind that humans could be more that mere acquaintances ready to party with you, shooting alcohol, waiting for you to get tipsy enough to dance provocatively with them (I lied, I don’t need to be tipsy for that), then stumbling around the streets of a foreign land with others from the far corners of the globe only sharing this in common: “We came, we saw, we got drunk.”

Then you leave the party, go back home, and realize how much you missed sitting around with someone in such a deep conversation, your wavelengths scarily level with one another, feeding off the others thoughts and sending them your own in a perfect yin-yang of friendship and mutual respect under the stars; close to a fire with trees and night creatures, stars, and drums. It’s as if the world exists around you, this perfect world (without the pollution of Asia) and yet you are perfectly content to confine yourself to a bubble (which is usually exclusively your own) with this one other person whom at least for the time being seems to understand your every thought, emotion, and beat of your heart.

OK, so maybe not everyone has such an experience. This was my experience at FPG. Yes, there was some drinking. That did not matter. Yes, there was drumming. That was OK. Yes there was phenomenal ham. That was delicious. But my spiritual enlightenment was skewed in a manner purely my own. I was embraced by loving people who genuinely missed me and I met someone whom I can honestly say is the perfect distraction to missing Min. Min was not just my lover but my best friend while in Korea. True, our conversations were not as deep or as intellectual as I usually crave, but we could literally lay around talking for hours about absolutely nothing. He was my companion in a world where I had only casual acquaintances. Yet, there was even something missing. I think I opened myself up more to another in one weekend than anyone in my life, even if there’s more to tell. Through trying to find men who could fulfill me romantically and sexually, I had forgotten than I am an extremely intellectual creature and there’s nothing I hunger for more than for someone who can fulfill the less primal needs of rekindling my spirituality and feeding my intellect through conversation that satisfies my deep sense of intrigue, as well as my sarcastic sense of humor.

I don’t know what the future holds for me, or what I hold for the future, but I know that I was welcomed by far more than I had ever anticipated. I know that wherever I am in the world, this place, and these people are my home and my eternal friends; through ridiculous in-fighting and endless drama, we love and care for each other in ways some other people couldn’t begin to comprehend.  

I love you all so much. (and I’m not soju-ed of sake-ed out right now)

Thank you, to my friends who are more than friends, my family, who are great friends, and to my newest soul-friend, Rook. You are fantastic and more than I could have hoped for in friends and family.

I farted. Nor really, but I can’t end this on so serious a note, so here’s an antectode:

One the bus out to Seoul, my boyfriend, Min, was telling me how he wasn’t like most other Korea men. He said to me, “I’m different. I’m eunuch.”

Oh and here’s a recent fortune cookie paper for you all to add “in bed” to:

“Your tongue is your ambassador.”

I am a pantheist. If you’re not sure what one is, I recommend looking it up, cause pantheist.net is probably more articulate than I am about such things. Basically, in pantheism, the divine is not an external entity, but present within everything. Simple, eh? (Picking that up from some Canadians hanging aboot.) I believe that spirituality is an aspect of humanity that is ever-present and a major part of the harmonic human balance. By harmonic human balance, I mean: Mind, Body, and Spirit. In Latin there is a term for it, animus. It is my belief that this need to connect with oneself spiritually is inherent in all sentient beings. Also, there is a sense that this spiritual gunk is inside everyone; whether you call it energy, the holy spirit, magic, divinity, or whatever. Plato had a theory about the collection of similar concepts held by all people; for example the concept of a perfect circle. Jung held that there was a collective unconscious, or a sort of reservoir for collective knowledge of all human beings.

Jesus discussed the holy spirit, Einstein told us what energy was, and many cultures perform ceremonies to harness this energy or magick, or divine spirit to create miracles, foresee the future, talk to dead folk, and to make the smoke from a campfire blow into someone else’s face.

Anyway, this is a blog, and not a research paper. If you want to know more about my theories of magick or the various levels of consciousness and how I believe they are utilized for magick goals, then you might want to attend my workshop. That and my notes on previous research and books are located half a world away.

So, I guess where I am going with this is that with pantheism, there’s no wrong way to express your spirituality. Everyone has this divine spark within them. Everyone can realize their own abilities and realize their full potentials without any kind of ceremony or through prayer to any god or goddess. The energies necessary to accomplish one’s goals are within our own reach, albeit difficult for some rather than others to harness and utilize. (Myself included). The only difference is enculturation. Cultures are so diverse, and people sometimes can access their spirituality through connection to one’s heritage.

This is why I believe Christianity is so popular in America today. People associate Christianity with patriotism; Hinduism with the Indian nationality, etc. Of course, there are those of us that associate with our more ancestral traditions; the Celts or Vikings for example. Then, there are those like me who feel connected to so many different traditions. I could not choose a particular path when I find no path to be wrong. I do however; find multiple paths to be useful, especially to allow for the free-flowing of energies being harvested from all walks, all times, and all cultures. This, after all is our world. In the end, we’re all just people. In the end, we’re all in this thing together, like it not. Then again, I could argue of course that this is a very culturally-based world view. I am afterall an American. We are accepting of other cultures; we are a melting pot of them. So are my religious views; a melting pot.

After going to college, becoming an atheist or agnostic was easy. I was in tune with the scientific aspects of life, as I am in tune with the scientific aspects of religion and spirituality. But in the end, I choose to be spiritual because it makes me happy. I choose to believe that there is a very logical way to attain our goals through magical or spiritual means. This in a sense is why I can continue to perform ceremonial magick or participate in other spiritual activities. However, when it comes to belief, I believe in reincarnation. I’m not sure if I can in anyway back it up scientifically, even in a more evolved form of humanity. I choose to believe in an afterlife because it makes me happy to do so. It makes life more interested and death seem less scary.

The greatest thing about blogging is that it can really just be a regurgitation of random thoughts texted, as opposed to research papers which require coherency and structure.

4-16-09 EST or 4-17-09 KST

Life on a treadmill can seem to last forever. Especially when looking over your shoulder constantly is the gym nazi. Going to the gym on a regular basis is something many of us foreigners have a tendency to do. Part of it, I think is because we have extra free time since most of us only work six hours a day. Secondly, I think a lot of us go to the gym because there is usually one in close proximity to our apartments; usually within walking distance. The last is of course a big reason: we are fat.

Well, let’s be honest, many of us really aren’t that fat, some wouldn’t be considered fat anywhere in the Western hemisphere, outside of Beverly Hills anyway. The fact of the matter is that in the East, we are totally, repulsively fat compared to tiny ass Korean people. The women have these long legs that many of us Westerners would die for. No matter how much I run, no matter how much I’ve tried to diet in the past, my legs have always touched at some point. Of course, this means embarrassing and uncomfortable chaffing. But the Korea women, no….they’re legs don’t touch all the way up to their damn hmm hmm….

Anyway, so I’m a tad bit jealous. Of course, I still get hit on by Asian men. Apparently, the skinny Asian ladies still can’t compete with my plump rear or large you-know-what’s which is why I can’t even find a bra in Korea. Well, I did find one in my size once, but it was way overpriced. So, whatever. Buying bras here is like shopping for batteries: A, AA, AAA…..

When I first came to the gym I met a immigrated Russian woman, an overzealous aging muscular Korean man, and my friend, the gym nazi. Ironically for me, it’s called, Miami Fitness; complete with a palm tree and some cacti, even though South Korea is far from tropical. I first encountered the gym nazi on that first day. He was kind of cute, with a funny little accent when he spoke all of his English vocabulary with me. This extensive vocabulary included words such as: Numbers from 1 through 10, no, yes, “goooood!” and “stop!” His overbearing aura and courtesy is what I feel kept me coming back to the gym everyday as well as always looking over my shoulder. First of all, the gym nazi was always worried about me following the program. The first thing I had to do was use an elliptical for all of three minutes, then pop over to the treadmill, where I would walk one minute, then run for all of eight. If I went over the limit, the gym nazi would stop me. I figured eight minutes of running wasn’t enough, even in the first weeks of regularly working out. Combined with strength training, I suppose it was better then exercising my fingers on the keyboard or flipping through the many channels of Korean television, of which I watched so much my first bored-out-my-skull month here that I started to memorize all the commercials without having any indicator as to what they were saying. Anyway, so it became a sort of game for me to try to go over my time limit, to try to improve myself. Sadly, I lost much of the time. It seemed that wherever I though the gym nazi was, he was closer than I thought. Seriously, I would be pacing away at the treadmill, watching the clock: 8:30…. OK, gym nazi is engaged in conversation on the other side of the gym. I’m good to go….8:45, gym nazi still occupied…8:55, gym nazi cleaning something on other side of the gym…8:59, gym nazi continuing to sweep…9:02, gym nazi standing right next to me with broom in one hand, shouting, “Stop!” That of course was followed by an irked, “Follow the program!”

This all went on for about three months when suddenly one day he told me I should run for 30 minutes at 8kmh, then do strength training (which suddenly massively increased) , then run for another 7. Way to ease me into it, ya know? Ok, well, quite frankly, 8kmh was not my cup of tea. Still, I am doing a lot more running these days than I thought myself imaginable. I’m almost addicted to it. One week away from the gym, and I’m missing it. So, here I am the laziest overachiever, running from around 4km in about 30min to a little over 5km in 40min. I must admit, even though I still don’t have the legs of a Korean women, I’ll knock you out with my American thighs.

Teaching Korean children is loads of fun. For my first class of the day Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from 2:10 until 2:40, I got my brat class. One of the students, Grant is the worst. He’s always acting out, running around the room, and playing with the keyboard while I’m trying to teach from the computer. Shane, another one does that, too. It’s annoying as hell, and I’ve started bringing this giant ruler to class to slap hands that get too close to the keyboard.

OK, background about the keyboard thing: For class, especially for my phonics classes, I get to simultaneously educate and entertain my students with silly animations that repeat letters over and over, repeat words with said letters, and then busts out into a song-like chant using said letters and words with said letters. Well, that’s it for the beginning phonics, but the advanced phonics are pretty similar in nature.

So, when I go into work for the day, I plop in a CD (after repeatedly bonking the top of the machine until the CD drive comes out), and I can utilize a remote to easily transfer from one section of the CD to another. I say easily, but just a month ago, it seemed that none of the remotes were working and I had to use the keyboard anyway. Having a remote is nice though, because I can wander around the room, making sure kids are working and not playing, and generally look intimidating (though it’s hard for me to look intimidating). 

So, in my brat class, (well, one of them anyway), this six year old is all over the place; running, playing, yelling, getting into my things, eating candy, hitting the girls, drawing on the dry-erase board, etc. Then, he has the nerve to grab a dry-erase board eraser and rub it up and down the sleeve of my white denim jacket. The craziest thing is that this horrible kid will do these things, then sheepishly bow his head, tell me I’m sorry, and throw his arms around me. One day he brought me a chocolate bar, I presume as trying to bribe forgiveness out of me. I really have to wonder what teaching American kids are like.

Oh, and just for your information, the blackened white jacket was quickly cleaned with dish soap and water after promptly running upstairs between classes to clean it and brood. Of course I got everything else wet and wound up looking from semi-decent for a change to sweatshirt and baggy jeans. Ah, the joys of living upstairs and the joys of wearing whatever I want to work.

Wow! I’ve only got 11 days left. I’m not sure where to start talking about my adventures in Korea. So I think I will randomly pick a topic and discuss it, piecemeal style, since I was too lazy to keep a journal of my time here thus far, other than some random stuff I decided might be too racy too post. Perhaps my life is just so filled with erotica and fantastical adventures that it’s much too exotic to portray to a whole world of random strangers and possible potential employers who may be googling me.

Well, let’s face it people, for a girl who’s kind of traversed the globe, and kind of had erotic encounters with exotic races, my life all in all is anything but extreme.

In all reality, I seem to take pleasure in the simple things in life. They say we ought to look at life through the eyes if a child. I think I am a young 27 year old, stubbornly unwilling to release myself from the captivation that youth holds on my soul. On the contrary, I will embrace my youthfulness for this following reason: It makes me happy.

I am a hedonist. Doing things that make me happy make me feel good. Sounds like circular logic, but that’s about it. I enjoy the fantastical, the magical, the mysterious, no matter how lame, how exciting, or however contradictory it may seem. I enjoy good food, good music, good entertainment; a good laugh. I enjoy singing (terribly out of tune), dancing (like an idiot), and everything from the mundane to the mystical. So, it is to no surprise that I am completely fascinated by not only being in another country, looking at historical structures, and eating some delicious exotic foods (and other not to delicious disgusting or tasteless exotic foods), but also at the much simpler aspects of life. I love the historical sites, though. I love the contrast of the mountainous landscape, as a backdrop for an ancient Korean palace. Although it makes me sick how rapid urban sprawl in such a population dense country can all but consume most of what used to be sprawling mountainous green lands teaming with wild flowers and wild life. Perhaps it’s spring time in Korea, or perhaps it’s a recently new-founded appreciation for bringing nature into the city. Either way, it seems as though there suddenly are patches of flowers planted in designs amidst trees in pleasant rows and bushes nestled along sides of the roads to contrast the heavy pollution and cars and litter. Passing by, you feel like you can breathe for a change.

Oh, for tangents….

Anyway, more about my hedonistic ways later. When I get the proper Konglish spelling for a recent adventure to Everland and Chum-*coughs* I’ll let you know where I went.

Life, in essence,

A strange wave of insecurities

A false horizon guiding into a dark ocean

Murky depths, we hear tired souls cry out

“Why have we died?”

“What have we lived for?”

Perplexed they remain

Souls, tattered cloaks muddy and damp

“What have we done to deserve this pain?”

“Why have we toiled in agony and slain?”

Woe to those who hold onto hope

Blessed are the cries of miserable wretches

Long, forgotten; long forsaken

Life, a putrid taste

Only to be spit out into the fire

In the end.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Life, in essence

A daunting devastation

  To hopes, dreams; illumination

Life, in essence

A troubling complication

  To sinners, saints; temptation

Life, in essence

A muddled decimation

  Deprived of light and dark; damnation

Life, in essence

A conquest for salvation

  Seeking the approval of the gods; isolation

Life, in essence

A quest for completion

  Time to find a mate to your soul; confrontation

Life, in essence

A flight of desperation

  To make ends meet until you reach your final destination

Life, in essence, an outcry of thought

Perpetual indiscretion

Of inevitable dimension

A rip in our space

Outpouring of wisdom

Over dawn’s domination

Of powerless discrimination

A shadow of dream

And restless determination of soul

A blind revelation of tortured domination

A ripened invention

Of times continuation

*Part of my life in essence ‘series’, in which I focus on different ways of defining life, in all its essence. It also gives me an excuse to play with words, which is all a poet really does anyway. A poet is but an artist of words. My canvas may be scraps of paper I scrawl on when a get an “artistic” moment, later to do the daunting task of compiling and finding it all. This is why I write freestyle, not concentrating too hard on where to make a line break; it’s basically all impromptu thought…kind of like what I’m doing now.

Life, a tangled web

Thoughts pour down

Like artificial raindrops

Blood, sweat, tears

Toils and wastes; sin

Meaningless utterance

Of the wind

Wholesome wanderings

To fathom the soul

A lust for love

A cry for mercy

Mundane ponderings

For senseless materialization

Glamourous impurities

Worn for intoxication

A quest for oneness

Hopeless wanderlust for love and lust

When a star I’ve called upon ten times over again

Finally comes within my grasp

When alas love falls from the night sky

And into my lap

And into my life

Unquenchable thirsts,

And cravings for that perfect drug

The drug that makes all time stand still

An addiction to love

An erection to lust

The drug I crave

Is still wanderlust

*Which is worse; finding someone incredible and later realizing she/he’s not the right one, or finding someone and knowing even though they’re incredible they’re not the right one right from the beginning?

Darkness creeping all around

Sunlight dims to release all it’s splendor

Forever amidst a tiny purple hew

Sun sinking into oblivion

Nighttime is upon this solemn street

Empty, but for remnants of trash

Rustling gently in the wind

Whispering thoughts to caress my mind

Silence hums her golden tune

A still wind foretold by the smoke

Rising gracefully from my lit cigarette

A small sprinkle of rain tickles my nose

As I walk this silent road.

Reminiscent thoughts fill my mind

Inhaling the sweet smell of a summer rain

Dampness creeping ever towards me

A clap of thunder quenches my thirst

Energy surging through my veins

As I ponder my next day’s journey

Release my hope in the gathered clouds

And thoughts pour down with the rain

All of nature’s stored energy granting me strength

Power of wisdom

Power of faith

Power of hope

Power of grace

A beauty only a god could define

Yet, perhaps, are we all gods in our minds.