Building with Fire: An Instruction Manual

The state of things artisically has started to confuse me. In general, things are starting to look on the up, but I get the feeling that people are starting to make art for art's sake, which is then not art. I've always envisioned art as an organic process: feeling and emotions combine with physical aspirations to create an abstract piece (or not so abstract) for viewing, listening, or sensory enlightenment. I don't think there's a lot of attempts to enlighten going on currently. I think it's more of people just shouting about what they think is right without considering the other half or simply put respect into the matter. You may have just asked what the hell I am talking about. I feel that art is a daily exercise and must include everything you do. This includes politics, attitude, music, movies, & actions most of all. Still lost? EVERYTHING YOU DO AND DON"T DO, SAY AND DON'T SAY, THINK AND DO NOT THINK MATTERS AND IS IMPORTANT. I am currently under the impression that more and more people are going out for themselves and nothing more. I am not saying that I have not acted in such a way before, but I am saying that I'm not going to be acting that way in the future.

I reall don't know what brought all that on right there. Man, do I like to ramble, but I felt like I wanted to get that off my chest after an artistic conversation with a friend.

I act like all this is the end of the world when I know damn well it's not, if anything I have great opportunities in front of me... but somehow I feel like I'm gonna end up letting someone down or someone's gonna get upset over something, and I don't want that.

Oh.. by the way, arm hurts! I hurt my arm by coughing too hard, the doctor thinks it's a bad muscle strain. What? From coughing?? This is so original.

Arm pain sucks, just like you.

Reasons knows nothing.

I don’t really understand this fascination with reason, years ago people just used to accept things. You know, like it rained because some god wanted it to, and you had good luck because you just earned it. No one was studying cloud patterns or attributing a good harvest to soil quality. But now, nothing can be done with out reason, or purpose. You get cancer, they want to know why you didn’t eat more vegetables, what carcinogens you exposed yourself to, where it could have come from.  Somewhere in the over-rationalization of everything, we tend to forget that sometimes, things just happen. And sometimes they happen for a reason.

Close by.

I fled. I had my own shades to deal with in this seemingly nightmarish world, in this misfit paradise for the unforgiven, in this world where the blacker the soul, the more power you had. I was dancing with the other dark nymphs, tasting their bittersweet tears as they kissed my open palms with their lucious lips....I was in paradise, until I recalled an image of that strange man...one of me, yet not.

What I feel like today.

Doesn't everyone sees each other differently? So when people look at me they never know how to take me. I know at times I can seem like the most happiest person alive and have a clear head to life but to understand the real story is something that most people can't except. Weren't we taught to except that life isnt always the greatest because whatever has and up has a bigger down fall. I have moments where life seems like its unbearable but I seem to make it out in the end but how do you know when your breaking point is about to stab.....You dont. You just hold on for the ride and when you fall, you get back up and start over again. Or is that why we tend to fool ourselves with do we really get back up? Can it be possible to be fallen and be shattered beyond repair? Or is it possible that you fall to separate yourself from who was what you once were? Just the empty shell getting back up to present a front to fool those who are weak.......possibly of you.

One year.

One year. It's usually a milestone, usually happy, and usually celebrated. It's the day you count down to and look forward to...usually. What happens when that one year milestone comes around, and you wish you didn't remember? What if it was the worst day of your life, and you'd give anything to erase it? What if, after one year, you could still remember every single detail- who was there, what they wore, what everything smelled and tasted like, and everything that you felt- and each one haunted you? What if you could still re-live it, just as if it were happening again? What kind of release would you choose, and would you regret the words you'd said, after that one year milestone had passed?

Invisible Me

Typical question-type blog exordium: How is it that you can spend so much time with someone you love during some extraordinarily surreal piece of your life and then wake up one day, discover you're alone, and slowly realize your one-time love is trying painfully hard to pretend you don't exist?

Typical devinsm-type interjection: That's screwed up.

Typical bullshit and drawn out riposte during which I over analyze my life and most of the collateral damage it's caused: Who knows? Seriously. Maybe it's better to ask how someone can claim they can't live without you and then later not even answer your phone calls and insist on only comminucating over text messages. Really it's a fucking wonder I'm not institutionalized by now I feel like a basketcase.

At first I blamed myself. You know, typical boo hoo I'm a douchebag, it's my fault, I ruined eveything, etc...then I blame you too. Was I really a victim of lusty banter? Did I buy into false hope? (here comes the million dollar question...) did I finally take that chance on a relationship again and find a love that I trusted would overcome all barriers only to come out feeling like the biggest hopeless romantic and biggest dupe of this century? Pretty much.

It's a shame...I usually like to end my blogs on a happy note or revelation or even at least a conclusion but I'm late and frankly out of effort as well.

I have a world of love to give, you just won't accept it. Still!

Perhaps a verse to help state my curse.

"Language just happened it was never planned and it's inadequate to describe where I am in a room in a house where the lights never bend waiting for this day to end. And the clocks keep on winding and completely ignore everything that we hate or adore when the page of a calander turns it's no more. So tell me then what was it for?"

This adequately sums up some of the many things I think about human existence. Ordinarily i'm not one to so blatantly quote at length another writer's work, but this is just one of those verses that really makes me think about things every time it pops into my head...or maybe it's the other way around. But even still, i believe that advanced verbal communication is the only significant difference between human beings and most other life on earth, and that from that is derived this vast spectrum of emotions that we are able to experience and chalk up to the posession of this thing we call a soul...something else i'm not sure I believe in.

Men around the house.

I hear my girlfriends ranting about their partners, that drives me nuts and bored me to tears - the listening part! i honestly have no answer for any of it and lately it came about men around the house. of course i can't help but to think about some useless past just for notes exchanging session since i have no one to rant about these days... now one of the classic ones...

Why is it that men don't just hire other men to do the work around the house that they are really not qualified to do themselves? They will spend hours, literally hours, doing the same thing over and over again, still not fixing the problem, getting angrier and angrier; swearing, yelling, demanding "why?" and never think to themselves..."Hey, I don't know what I am doing, perhaps I should call a Professional.

Wait, let me rephrase that... they will spend hours "fixing" something they don't have the first clue even how to fix, getting angrier and angrier, until they make it worse, then it is really broken and then they finally have no other choice, they have to call a Professional. Usually then it will end up costing three times as much as it would have to just call the Professional who probably would have fixed the original problem in one-to-three hours, without the drama.

Some men like to think they are capable fixing anything...I think they like to get themselves upset over these things.  Otherwise, at the first sign of "Hey I have no idea" they would pick up the phone and make the smart call. Now I know there are probably certain men somewhere out there who call the Professional right away when they know they are not qualified for the job, so I don't assume all of you...just speaking from my own experiences in general.

There is no shame in being intelligent about solving life's problems, and the most intelligent thing to do is get a Professional's help!  If you don't know what you are doing get help; call a Professional, read a manual...don't just get mad and make the problem worse. Just file this under "a woman's common sense."

And you wouldn't be sinking in the mud from your clouded tears.

But nothing. You thought that your forgotten seniority would bolster you through this ordeal? I am no dancing dyrad, regardless of how the Heartfelt one made me move. I am no curvaceous succubus ready to take you in my arms and lock hands with you. I am better than that. In this world, I have little control when I whispered with tears falling from my eyes as I looked at you, remember yourself and remember that you could have had me...but you, your foolishness and greedy oaf, were already holding another's hand. You could have been holding mine.

I had never seen this side of my Prize.

A box of silence.

Behind me, my loyal imps laughed with simple, malicious delight at my bumbling move. I looked at them and shrugged, thinking about how little I needed this precious one, when I could put their many hands to use to hold me up....I couldn't stand much longer, especially not when the day of the murdered saint was about to come...the day when all the blood from ancient forbidden love would rain down on the skies and bathe those who found no shelter in one another with unrelenting force...when the winds of bitterness would drive the droplets right into our eyes, into our minds, and make us remember what it was like to hold someone's hand.

Aiko.


And World, if you're listening, I have never stopped loving you. My flame-insane which once burned so brightly has dwindled to the barest flickering candle in these bitterest of the coldest winds. But I promise, I am guarding it with my life, and it will never, ever go out. With closed eyes, I am dancing, awaiting the return of the Spring to my heart.  

If only you were lonely.

During my long drive, i was able to accept and understand many things about myself.

I'm not the kind of person who jumps head first into a relationship. I like being smothered with phone calls but i don't like committing myself to anything that i don't feel is going to be worth it in the long haul. I've gotten better at returning phone calls to most everyone. I'm usually terrible at that but upon doing so, I've become very busy however I also want to commit myself to the good friends i have.

My point is, as much as i say i'm lonely, i think what i really want is to be loved by and close to my friends. it's not romantic, but it does fill in the blank zones i tend to find.

We always want what we can never have, but we torture ourselves by exposing ourselves to that very thing. Maybe because we hope, or maybe because it just makes us feel better knowing that we're still close with that we want. In my case, the fact of the matter is that love can come in so many forms. Sometimes it's less defined, and sometimes it's said out loud.

Relationships a weird thing in general. The line between friends, lovers, and acquaintances are often blurred and sometimes, perhaps that's necessary. Rambling, i know.  but this has been an extremely out of the blue week for me. It was good to spend time with family, friends and by myself with nothing less familiar around me.

Nature vs Nurture

I'm not going to lie and say that this post was spontaneous. This has been a long time coming. Nature vs nurture is something that weighs heavily on my mind, but for different reasons that many people have for discussing it. Such as, is the serial killers lust for blood because he was born without a conscience, or because his mother did not hug him? Or the ever famous is a gay born a gay or does the things that his parents expose him to make him gay.

"You weren't enough" was the overtone of the argument. This goes back more than a decade. See I did as I always do and I filled myself with hope that it would be different this time, but people do not change. Their spots remain the same. Unfortunately, he will remain dear to my heart as he always has, but now he is bathed in a new light that will not let me forget. I am thankful for that.

Back to the nature vs nurture comment, and theme of this rant. Some people grow up being told that they are the center of their parents world. I did not hear this growing up. I always felt that I was more a burden than a joy. At the slightest issue in my youth I was told repeatedly how worthless I was. It is possible that I am only remembering the bad parts of my childhood but cest la vie. So compound that with every breakup, some because of me, the others I still feel were my fault. I was not enough. If you flash back a few years to a time when I was happy in a new relationship that I held much hope in. (This, again is not the only thing that contributed to the way I feel, just another example).  I did not have a care in the world. I was not cautious as I should have been. I almost gave it all up.

The last attempt at happiness was a complete folly on my part. The truth was hidden and brought to light and before I walked away I was not enough for that.

So my nature (and close friends) tell me that I am an amazing person. I have a lot of love to give for the right person. My passion is great and I throw myself in to things with all my heart.

Nurture tells me that I am not enough. Events long past surface when people start to speak of the ways that I cannot make them happy. It is like a bad dream as faces flash inside my eyes of the many men that have spoken nearly to the letter the same words. Faces blend together and they become one voice, one face. Many of them beg my friendship as a consolation prize, it is a request that I have granted to few.

I am told by many that the man who completes me is out there. The one that will be there, due to nurture pulling ahead I do not believe them. Another in a string of worthless words that will haunt me as they walk away. Many of them have left me to find their true happiness. I can not begrudge them this but their words echo in my head all the same.

In conclusion, nature vs nurture in my life are waging a war, and fortunately, I've learnt that nature should win sometimes.

12,000 Feet. Sometimes words just aren't enough...

My loves told me these....when I looked into their black round eyes.

I received this and I thought it's lovely for the night...and when I looked into the both of you're eyes, I couldn't agree more, and more. Gonna miss my babies while I'm away.

1. My life is likely to last 10 to 15 years.  Any separation from you will be very painful.
2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.
3. Place your trust in me -it is crucial for my well-being.
4. Don't be angry with me for long, and don't lock me up as punishment. 
5. You have your work, your friends, your entertainment.  I HAVE ONLY YOU!
6. Talk to me.  Even if I don't understand your words, I understand your voice when it's speaking to me.
7. Be aware that however you treat me, I'll never forget it.
8. Before you hit me, remember that I have teeth that could easily crush the bones in your hand, but I choose not to bite you.
9. Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me.  Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I've been sick, or my heart may be getting old and weak.
10.Take care of me when I get old.  You, too, will grow old.
11.Go with me on difficult journeys.  Never say, "I can't bear to watch it" or, "Let it happen in my absence."  Everything is easier for ME if you are there. Remember, I love you.

Small thoughts; Selectively permeable

Today, I was wondering why I bother to write about the trivial matters of my life or endlessly rant about the trivial thoughts I'm having. This is live, but I don't always... okay... ever make it interesting to the reader or even worth being read another time, by myself. I guess that this form of expression is kind of for records, partly for communication, maybe to hear myself talk, but mostly cathartic and somewhat masturbatory. Well, I guess masturbation and catharsis go hand in hand. If you tell your ideas to yourself, they'll be well-received; existence validated. A piece of paper or a monitor is eternally receptive. Better than a best friend. Unless, of course, you have a best friend that loves to read what you write. And, of course, unless your best friend can write back to you, and you can't wait to read it. Ah, now that's true love.

Sometimes I remember that I had suffered from pneumonia some years back that had put me in coma for several weeks, a spot was found in my right lung. But I am alright now. Eversince, I suspect that I might have a slight hearing problem ( I don't know how this could tie-up); or at least a problem deciphering unclear speech and sounds. It's not a big deal, except for I say, "What?" when people are mumbling. It's definitely not serious enough for a hearing aid, and I think it's more of a cognitive thing than it is purely auditory. When I finally woke up from my long sleep, I got into a bad depression as I already have memory lost which the doctor advised as "selective memory". The hearing thing had also become like "selective hearing", I was told later.

So, for lack of a reflective material to shine myself upon, I'll happily take this tablet. Here I go again: Someone recently told me that I come off as emotionally detached; I've been outra-specting (new word) to find what the meaning of that is and whether or not it's true. Then, I can bother with what it implies and whether or not it's bad.