In judging others;

Mother Teresa said, "If you judge people, you don't have time to love them." If we are quick to pass judgment on others, we forget that they, like us, are human beings. As we seldom know what roads people have traveled before a shared encounter or why they have come into our lives, we should always give those we meet the gift of an open heart. Doing so allows us to replace fear-based criticism with appreciation because we can then focus wholeheartedly on the spark of good that burns in all human souls.

No life on Mars


It's very rare when you read about something that causes you to wanna change your whole system of beliefs, and go on a whole different path that would have been completely foreign before.
 I was reading an article about Global Warming, like many others knew vaguely about it and the "threat" it imposed. The solutions are hard, but not as hard as the problem itself. The problem is kinda small, if you consider a planet that is completely underwater, small. I'm welcome to ideas and thoughts on this subject as i wanna find out more and do my part in preserving this planet and to help save the environment and keep it as clean as possible.

Being lazy and relying on oil for everything has to stop. Alternative fules are around and have been.... for a while. But it's just too hard to get the a-holes in congress to stop supporting them because we all know they take the money from highest bidder, and agriculture doesn't pay as well as the "big Boys".and they also likely won't wake up to the fact that they are dooming our country and planet because - shortsightedness. Just like voting, people think what's their one vote gonna do? It probably never occur to them that if enough people voted based on the ideas the candidates support, then the one who's idea is like yours will be in office and will make changes.



The problem is enough people aren't aware of the environment or take the issue of "well what's done is done, or one person can't change anything"
 attitude. But think about it, one person can, look at what Rosa Parks did, or Abraham Lincoln for that matter. They stood up for what is right and even though many objected they prevailed.

 I hope this planet prevails, because we don't have another one to head off too...unless mars has space to rent.

sideliners

run away from a starting point

keep time like a marching band

with the sound off
looking off into another time and space

remaining on a track that never stops

keep passing that same sideliner
sitting off left in the bleachers

watching without interest

the dust kick up from new tennis shoes

if there was a reward

an Eskimo pie off in the distance?

perhaps incentive could quell 
this sense of dread

feet keep thumping like a heartbeat

afraid if I stop 
the voice in my head
will scare 
the other runners

where are all the cheer leaders
when you need them most?

another time

im taking my words to a different place
walking through streets at a different pace

with lowered eyes 

lowered blinds

lowered lights


i would like to write upon the insides of the eyelids

view visions of the visionaries

share a part of something amazing

with broken walls

broken shards

broken records
are playing backwords a song that never ends

when i challenge you for inspiration

to light fires

empathy

His embrace as I opened the door was deliberately warm. Mine was disappointingly not.
We sat on the couch, our bodies forming a triangular opposite. My deliberate attempt to avoid intimacy. My attempt to 'wind things down' so when the inevitable news is delivered, it doesn't come as such a shock.
I may be the one delivering the news to myself, as a realisation I guess.
What's wrong with this situation? There is nothing wrong.
Much could be written about feeling out of place. Not feeling like it fit.
Put simply, the need to sort through a pile of feelings to separate the insecurities from the ones that say it isn't right. And those that say it is.

Happy Birthday

Today I wrote a birthday message of love to a dear friend, and in it, ended up giving myself a reality check...

"...this birthday should be yet another in a continuous stream of reminders of how amazingly lucky we are to have all of these. Life of wonderment and curiosity, the joy and pain of it all! To have these fingers and toes! To have the smell of sneakers to greet us when we open the door...! 

To remind you of the precious value and majesty of every tiny detail is to also remind myself; and that is a gift beyond measure.... "

So I thanked him for giving me the gift of redirecting my gift of giving back onto me! (?!) I must keep stepping out into the Real world of what-is-Really-Real-And-Good if I am to survive. Currently, I keep stepping out of my happy dream world into the harsh reality of "what is really not good and makes me very sad",and that being so overwhelming, I retreat back into my illusory world of denial and pretense. It's like having a wonderful room in which you stay, but the house it's in is horrible and nasty. If only you could get outside into the big world, you would be able to breathe again. And the worst part is... It's all In your head.

When I remember why I am really a happy and excited person in real life, it starts to cut through the clouds and lift the weight which crooks my back (so unflatteringly!). But there just seem to be so many clouds...Maybe it's best that when you can't see "out", that you look "in" for the time being...

It's a Winnie-the-Pooh sort of philosophy... a tubby little cubby, all stuffed with fluff, so it must be true..."Tut tut, it looks like rain!" - I spent so many years being Christopher Robin the problem solver, I guess it's only fair that I must cycle through my fair share of time being Piglet (afraid) & Tigger (extroverted) & Owl (didactic) & Rabbit (neurotic) & Pooh (serendipitously happy-go-lucky).  For the better and the worse, the lessons are undeniable.

lioness

its in her posture
and dropped syllables
to negate any questions regarding fulfillment
emotional, physical or otherwise

it is in the dead air that flattens the space between ear to mouth
with the weight of dissipating expectations

it is the vague flippancy of an i love you
it is missing the conviction
that is found with locked eyes

yet it is in the shadow of necessity where
the strength of her own truths lie
observantly waiting
for something to move

red apples

mossy ground gives and releases beneath bare feet
cool and moist
a caress of the earth to the ache

itching to run.

her black hair stick to skin
berry stained lips mouth words much like eating them up
sucking on the secrets of longing

looking to seek.

memory of a moment lost like disintegration
faded into a passing thought
brought back by touch

standing to fall.

data shuffle..

the perforation is still secure

enveloping the pencil shavings
and erased paper droppings that spill my
attempts like rich black ink.

recurring conceptual broadcast of the internal senses

sensitivity to one's light

sensory overload.

i have thought on my strengths

watched them drip from my desk
and down veins to collected patterns on the floor.

scattered samplings relating to my relations of self

self loathing and time spent

selfish shelf life.

Before and After


"The greatest irony of Love is loving the right person at the wrong time, having the wrong person when the time is right and finding out you love someone right after that person walks out of your life... And sometimes, you think you're already over a person, but when you see them smile at you, you'll suddenly realize that you're just pretending to be over them just to ease the pain of knowing that they will never be yours again..."

For some, they think that letting go is one way of expressing how much they love that person. In my opinion, some are afraid to see the one they love being held by someone else. Most relationships tend to fail not because the absence of love. Love is always present. It's just that one was being loved too much and the other was being loved too little... As we all know that the heart is the center of the body but it beats on the left, maybe that's the reason why the heart is not always right.

Most often we fall in love with the person we think we love but to only discover that for them we are just for passing time, while the one who truly loves us remains either a friend or a stranger. My romantic piece of advice; Let go when you're hurting too much. Give up when love isn't enough. And move on when things are not like before...

It's certain, there is someone out there who will love you even more.

As stories go

there is usually pain
death or some drama,
created by let downs of some type
feeling the quiet, its surrounding her and burrowing through ear canals
maybe its like going deaf,
after a while the white noise just fades
like a lullaby to drift you away to a healthier state of mind
she is quiet for the first time
her own voice in hibernation to herself
she is feeling sadness harder than usual but
she has been told things are usually for the best
she is growing her thin skin out to callused a bit
to live without that empty self induced guilty feeling
as stories go

love

is always patient and kind. it is never jealous. love is never boastful or conceited. it is never rude or selfish. it does not take offense and is not resentful. it is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure...

so what went wrong? can't even describe the feeling of hurt.

maybe it has found a safer place to hide and not another word is easy.

小嫻說：

她相信承諾，喜歡一切美好的東西：
漂亮的衣服，美味的食物，男人的諾言。

她找尋幸褔，然后發現：
失望，有時后也是一种幸褔。

因為有所期待，才會失望。

遺憾，也是一种幸褔。

因為還有呤你遺憾的事情。

她尋找愛情，然后發現：
愛，從來就是一件千回白輪的事。

if i wrote a love sonnet...

Through my lenses

with sleepy eyes

I derive

other sides

to your insides

behind walls

within rooms unvisited

barred entry

but I snuck in through windows

climbed over a fenceway

in a doorway

and under a skylight

to gather insight

to see why you fight

the sunshine from

trickling down

stairwells

only starry eyed frowns

when I will my smile

to be contagious

infectious

maybe even delicious

to awaken other senses

to pry you away

from preconceived notions

and underdeveloped

potentials of

navigational patterns


And she told me of her problems in school...

I am reminded also now of cold bathroom floors now and a feeling of exclusivity, closed circles and standing outside the doors of inside jokes.
She told me that she is no longer invited and I understood how it makes one feel…
Laughing at punch lines never heard
Silence creating a white noise where you are once again that girl in school who is always wearing the wrong shoes, despite the one you wear now that always turn eyes green.
Eventually you will probably be the one to stand up for me and say that I wasn't so bad, the other kids should have given me a better chance, and we'll laugh about it over martinis-
But today, you will remind me of that need inside for acceptance
Desperately grasping for the ease at which open smiles lets you slip into a room with invisible comforts
Like getting sent through time,
Those millions of eyes are staring at me with lascivious laughter and wicked intent, willing tears to spill forth and baptize them
Make them young and mean again; ruthless they point at me again?
Naked - standing, making me eleven again.

Misunderstood

Perhaps the pressure isnt coming from the outside forces

perhaps this seething volcano is a crater started from within

a dissatisfaction with this everyday normality

a void or absence of placement.


Perhaps we blame and point fingers at the ones we love

or who love us

the fear of disappointment of being let down

there is no gently when it comes to swift blows and breaking chains
.

The steam that rises from energy building deep

within the earths crust is from the heat of the core

not the feet that walk the surface.


Perhaps our insides are speaking to us in ways we never hear

the beating only sounds like a clock

with its ever present tick and tock.

Checking Luggage

There are some things she doesn't talk about
juxtaposition of yesterday's thoughts and today's persona

dropped eyes of half gazes and coaxing talks

persuading the inside girl to creep out a bit

her hands hold too tightly

something needing and missing inside that offers
a series of painful memories

persuading the inside girl to pack a carryon suitcase

hop a plane to some type of vacation from anxiety

A life of business suits and button ups

she sharpens nails to points to sever cords

to throw those pieces of baggage from

the airplanes that fly over her new home

she packs one at a time, folding troubles neatly away

to dispose of small parts of her insides that have rotted

carrying such vintage luggage is cumbersome

eventually the closets will all be clean

and there will be more space to breathe.

Home and other frustrations

This city is melting beneath the sun
The screen plays have all been written and rewritten
Plastic is melting upon abandoned integrity from the faces
We're a rebellion of what matters
Retreating like defeated soldiers on the run
Trying to find solace in canyons like the laurel children of days past
Their guitars don't play in our mountains
To the poets songs, no computer required for these messages
There used to be integrity that dripped from iron fists
Anger that bred unity
Then it softened and passed a spliff
Today the kids on corners just don't speak the truth to me
They hide beneath bad haircuts
And a shared complaint that nobody feels the
Pain they do when they go home to mom and dad
Comfort just breeds complacency
No one's bringing on a change
Maybe I'm just getting old but this garbage breaks my heart
I want to turn off all the lights and
Rewind back to start.

Think it's Zoloft

The entire car ride is silent, painfully silent, but at least we don’t try and talk about what's been bothering. That part is the worst, I think, the talking. They always want reasons, influences. What really gets them is when there is no none.

It waves in my dreams

I heard a voice that said “by now they should be mainly meditating in their daily routine. Still most hours a day for the slower ones. On average they should be able to at least move small things with their minds. This entertainment concept has crippled the whole species. Even ones without television. They think the music is intended for something else. I can’t see how to turn this around.

http://outsideandyou.blogspot.com

Slipping beneath the dark waves.... 


Life becomes so much easier to bear when one gives up their struggle to keep their head above the surface and travels with the dark rushing tides. The womb of this water as cold as it is I find strangely comforting sometimes. Gone forever the wasted years and memories of the past. It's easy, to find out just how ugly you are on the inside.

Tragedies seem so far away totally devoid of emotion the world is so much easier to bear. And in all the darkness one can find faint glimmers of light at the depths of sanity and who needs color in a world so grey? No use for feeling of emotions especially that feeling known as love and maybe it is a trick of nature to get humans to mate. It seems ridiculous to have ever been so infactuated with such a thing. But there is always the surfacing when a wave comes that makes one such as I who have based my life on such ideals as love and destiny rethink the budding philosophies. Even within the depths you stand naked before the world so readable yet they all fake their sympathy for you.

Why must people do that? They say they are worried about you and try to be your personal savior as if your life can easily become one that even you yourself do not recognize.

I just wish I knew the reasons and cause, because I sure know the effect....

PNS Syndrome

That stands for Paranormal Nagging Spirits Syndrome. These nagging little voices are always telling me what to do and telling me to improve my self. It's bad enough that they natter at me all of the time, but then they always insist that I have to go public with the whole thing. Yet, nobody else in the room ever hears them. I wonder how much longer until they make a little pill to make the voices in my head go away. Then I think about how lonely it would be inside my head if I didn't hear them anymore. Every time I think about that pesky little going public' part, I find my sanity going out the window again. Can't we keep this to ourselves?

I read articles, and newsletters and it amazes me how open and factual it all sounds. Hello! Did you forget that we are weird? Why aren't you hiding? Wait until we have more real tangible proof! Then I remember all of the pioneers that came before us. This must be how it feels to be a pioneer in any field of study, whether it's exploring uncharted territories, studying Quantum Physics, decoding DNA, or walking on the moon. The normal everyday Joe sits back with this bewildered look on his face saying, "No way!" There's always that element of "Wow! I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes," as we share our discoveries with the rest of the world.

I remember way back to college days that the voices used to come and talk to me. I was terrified to tell anyone for fear they'd lock me away in a little padded room. After many years of making those guiding voices prove themselves to me over and over again, I finally came out of the closet so to speak and began telling my closest friends. They didn't think I was nuts.

I've seen too many things and had heard too many stories just like mine, not to believe something or someone is out there helping us. The voices in my head have proven themselves correct and loyal too many times for me to doubt them. Isn't it natural to feel crazy and insane when pioneering into areas that are unknown and different from what we're used to? Can this many people really be crazy with the same mental health problems? Do we all have some sort of Joan of Arc Complex that makes us create the illusion that we're here to help and maybe even save these people? Do we just sell snake oil to ourselves saying it's some sort of magical elixir? Well if I'm crazy, then please don't save me.

I love believing that I'm the kind of person who steps up to the plate and does the impossible. I love believing that I was put on this planet to make a tiny difference. Oh please don't cure me of my fantasies that magic really happens. If this is crazy, then so be it. I'm in good company.

It has always been monday.

The night stretched itself into a blurry ball of noise, they pretend to be absent from each other's existence because it's too crowded in here. He pretends not to go, I pretend not to know. Girls like she never admit to all the things she already know, what she has to do, what she'll never do. And she shan't! I don't know who she is anymore, she never knew I was her core.

Last night I was so exhausted, a box of pushing pins fell onto the wooden floor and it scattered everywhere. After picking up all my thoughts, I realize things are never ever what you expected. Like the shadows of the dim-en day, inside my room, they say that all things are an illusion just like the moon, and I live in the night always.


There was a funeral in the movie and it reminded me of the dream I had the night before that day that my father will be dying. I almost forgot why I woke up with such tantrum.

Twenty-09

So as I said, "It's all about the 09"
Should be a good year.

A new hobby, I hope.
A fitter body, for sure.
A sharper mind, but how? - not Sudoku

A happier she.

If anything was missing out of 2008, it was a person. I did not exactly connect with anyone. I blogged about being patient, perhaps in the hope that my veil of patience might actually hurry things up a bit....but that's not the point.

I hope things will be different this year. Even if it is fleeting, as long as it is special. As long as I remember this for the next 30 years. I have people of that calibre and I have past connections who I can not help but look back and a smile with every fibre in my body when they pop into my thoughts.

Here it is. To the highs and lows of the year. It will be raw, tipsy and emotional, but I wouldn't want it any other way.

A happy new year. So may yours be as good as mine.

Wise women

It seems like there's almost zero left in our age group. I bet most can't even read past this- ok partying, drugging, drinking etc...

Proactivity - you make it seem like its all about fun and getting "mind-fucked" repeating the same old stories over and over again... Am I saying its wrong? Am I a hypocrite? I am smiling.

What happened to growing into a useful person seeking creativity, art, justice, real love, care for people, concern for the unconcerned, truth? Excuse me but to let me put this into two words maybe you might understand "the real world". I noticed that some of you can't even read a full book, nor speak eloquently or with any dictation, that what is more important is your surface painted with cheaply made of materials. It just doesn't go well together.

I have a bone to pick with your little brains. And some harsh words for you to bear...You aren't women, your dreams are useless, your hearts are filled with nothing, lives going down a road of hopelessness more than wasting, your body decaying, your eyes blind, your hands full from noun you have taken and not given back, you think your stable job is a way to get you your "fabulous" lifestyle of anywhere closer to your ideology. 
Face reality and the worlds offerings which are far greater than any party with drugs and booze puke coming from your little selfish lips. Please don't call yourself a women or a girl or anything related to a female, you only posess that name because of your genital area. 
But call yourself unwoman, ungiving, negligent, powerless, mind-washed.

Me I am nowhere close to perfect, no where near good, but my life is nowhere close to stupidity. I need to surround myself with people who will change the world for good not for themselves, which we have our lovely product today.

Men say hello to your useless future wives.