High Heals & Martini-Poetry

Fade In...
On our love,
The story that always aims for misery.
Shall I die this week and we divorce next.
That morning wasn't suppose to be written that way,
and it continued to unfold wrong.
Did I really choice to let us join,
When you can see we aren't.
Is it really worth your sadness,
as the picture of our love,
Fade Out...

Merry Christmas

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

Present for you:
Imagine prisoners, who have been chained since diapers deep inside a cave: not only are their limbs immobilized by the chains; their heads are chained as well, so that their gaze is fixed on a wall.
Behind the prisoners is an enormous fire, and between the fire and the prisoners is a raised walkway, along which statues of various animals, plants, and other things are carried by people. The statues cast shadows on the wall, and the prisoners watch these shadows. When one of the statue-carriers speaks, an echo against the wall causes the prisoners to believe that the words come from the shadows.
The prisoners engage in what appears to us to be a game: naming the shapes as they come by. This, however, is the only reality that they know, even though they are seeing merely shadows of images. They are thus conditioned to judge the quality of one another by their skill in quickly naming the shapes and dislike those who begin to play poorly.
Suppose a prisoner is released and compelled to stand up and turn around. At that moment his eyes will be blinded by the firelight, and the shapes passing will appear less real than their shadows.
Similarly, if he is dragged up out of the cave into the sunlight, his eyes will be so blinded that he will not be able to see anything. At first, he will be able to see darker shapes such as shadows and, only later, brighter and brighter objects.
The last object he would be able to see is the sun, which, in time, he would learn to see as that object which provides the seasons and the courses of the year, presides over all things in the visible region, and is in some way the cause of all these things that he has seen.
Once enlightened, so to speak, the freed prisoner would not want to return to the cave to free "his fellow bondsmen," but would be compelled to do so. Another problem lies in the other prisoners not wanting to be freed: descending back into the cave would require that the freed prisoner's eyes adjust again, and for a time, he would be one of the ones identifying shapes on the wall. His eyes would be swamped by the darkness, and would take time to become acclimated. Therefore, he would not be able to identify shapes on the wall as well as the other prisoners, making it seem as if his being taken to the surface completely ruined his eyesight. (The Republic bk. VII, 516b-c; trans. Paul Shorey).
Reference: http://psychology.wikia.com/wiki/Allegory_of_the_cave
Whole Story: http://www.wsu.edu:8080/~dee/GREECE/ALLEGORY.HTM

For my father: http://www.biblepath.com/beatitudes.html or http://www.lifeofchrist.com/teachings/sermons/mount/beatitudes.asp

Wonderful Outlandish Wilds

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2R69nV4HOaE
If hate the music, enjoy the story; if you hate the story, enjoy the music; if love both, we are ment; if you hate both, you are not ment.
So, I want to be Arthas (ie the new linch king). As the story line goes, you kill the old linch king, you become the new linch king. So, I want to be Arthas.

Times that won't be useful

Smoking backscratchers for Friday. 4-day Saturday on a Wednesday. Looking at lilies through a frozen windows. Voice activated prepaid difference. Interns For Sale: on the back of website.

Laughing

So, I'm on my old laptop for the weekend. It's interesting. I've haven't been on it in over a year. Been using a desktop. The odd part is it's like it's an old part of my soul is in it. It's like opening a closed door of me. Like opening up me from even 4yrs ago. Well, the funny thing is that after updating my I-tunes, I went to listening my music. Actually one artist that I've been listening to on the desk top. And guess what my laptop did. It giggled at me. I started listening to James Blunt, and first song, and went to straight giggle. Why if I went and read my new blog, it would giggle and be amused. But it does declare this blog to be so much more easier that a real website. I logged in, and walked right into writing. No, copy-paste link to link and open new file and go here, and then after all that I get to write. No, I was already writing how my made my laptop giggle. And guess what else it's going to love. See, I am spelling laptop right, but was worried it had to be spelled with a B where the P is. And I even found another spelling mistake. But guess who doesn't have any more spelling mistakes in their journal/post/blog. Now grammar errors and nature of writing is still all me, but there has to be something that is me. And I can still smile that no spell-check can help with there vs. their vs. they're. But...spell check is nice.
I am still giggling. :). Life seems nice when it's fresh and stupid.
I don't know, but today seemed nice. So, pointless. So, giggly. I did have a panic attacked, but the who wouldn't with the economy. That which you fear seems to be increasingly feared.
Did I even tell you, I was once let go.
See-I am writing, freely, like my old website/journals. But seriously, I like typing on my laptop then that crappy desktop. But I have two layer desk. With the laptop, it's on the top layer, but with the desktop, it seemed easier to actually use the bottom layer. And I almost need my hands to be my level or higher.
Can I smile for no reason, because for some reason life needs to be free. I am sad...moopy. And with my laptop, it reminds me that me and sadness have a home, somewhere, but there is a home. Well, I am going to enjoy James Blunt...someday I will mable about what I want for Christmas, but while being sad, I just want it to go away and never show up........

Again?

Happy Fiscal New Year! The past is behind us, the present is today, and the future is a door. Will you flow foward through it with the pasage of time?