White walls

A room with white walls.
Brown shades. Rug floors.
The house is bare, for a family who does not crave more and more.

A plain and simple lifestyle.
No debt. No fancy things.
They have what they need, and with little, happiness it brings.

A friend who cares more for others than for himself.
Open hearted. Happy all the time.
This kind is rare, and such virtue is not a crime.

A time where the plagues of men rule.
No God. No spiritual force.
This success is mans growth, and no other being sets his course.

A man so foolish.
Eyes closed. Easily persuaded.
Then ruled by the world, and in his desires, he isdictated.

A happy and fulfilled life.
No worldly possessions. No money calls.
It begins with God, a friend, and a room with white walls.

midnight K.iss D.reams

the moment sleep evades you. leaves you, and you lie there in a midst of darkness with nothing but your mind to feed your undesireable emotions and memories that once were a reality, but now are only a film replayed in your imagination.
nothing around you except empty promises, empty films of puffy clouds that are supposed to satisfy your cravings for an escape.
throughout the day you are nothing more than a walking dream, a reality brought to life only when the lights go out and the eyes that focus on the outside will pass back to focus into the inside, where there resides the unconscious matter that controls your mind. your generator.
like most nights, sleep is hard to find. it is almost as a lost item. one that is found randomly through circumstance. but what tonight is the delay? the aggravating truth?
a pondering question that so often strangles my mind. my thoughts. my time.
where are you? why are you gone but yet so close in my mind? why can i not just let you go..your grip so tight on me. almost suffocating, the breath i need is hard to find for i keep falling under water with no way to the surface.
the strength i need i cannot seem to find. the life raft that was in the distance, a mirage to my nature.
who ever thought being in love was such a tragedy? an emotional prison that has no keys or exit strategy. once you feel you have broken loose from the chains, the bars, the torment, you are only beginning the grief. at least in prison you were not alone. you found comfort in the little things. now you struggle to see the light when it is all around you. you are an addict who has quit cold turkey, and now you crave nothing but the sensation of the drug seeping and winding through your veins. the adrenaline. the life. the doped up you.
i cannot see you, but i feel you. what could have been. what should have been. the very loathing enters the excitement of worth. questions reside but no answers are born.
i can go on and on about how you made and make me feel. how i put myself out there, how i fell in love. but this is not a regret nor a soliloquy. more a treatment, an inner discussion, a therapy session.
the best way to clear the mind is said to write it all down. at night, the brain is overflowing with urges, tendencies, ideas.
emotions are racing and the mind a constant flow. just like the tears that rain upon my pillow night after night.
to be overrun with you, i do not need you. i do not need you. why settle for that which slowly broke you, hurt you, and hurt you some more. physically never, but emotionally triumphant.
a bond that was broken, a trust that never sealed. nor a wound that can now ever heal.
for when you give your all, your heart mind and soul, and it has no protection....the elements of life can be cruel. detrimental. a disaster. deadly.
for no one will ever match what the imagination of my hopes and dreams can muster of you.
nothing can ever be what i wanted. needed. deserved.
no one a match. no one a replacement.
for the image of you, the idea of us is too strong a brand.
and yet the reality is as blurry and buried as the ancient folks of old.
the power of a stitch that unweaves throughout time. the stitches can close a wound, but the scar will ever remain. a reminder. a token. a symbol for that which is lost.
a chance denied. a roll of the dice which lost the round.
i have never been the gambling kind. my luck is as a blind man seeing.
how i wish to take that step forward instead of backwards. when backwards is the safest way to fall, for when you fall back you can see up. if you fall forward, you see nothing.

ED

unmotivated.
undisciplined.
agitated.
summarized.
defeated.
trudged.
trampled.
founded.
plagued.
practiced.
observed.
blessed.
worshipped.
decided.
intrigued.
possessed.
drugged.
divided.
disclosed.
informed.
pursued.
painted.
scared.
stoned.
hungered.
starved.
dehydrated.
broked.
bounded.
surrounded.
backed.
tricked.
lied.
betrayed.
powered.
ended.

Junction::

everyone reaches that point in their life when they are at a crossroads. a junction. a no where to go but left or right.
i mean technically you can go backwards, but then where will that get you except back to where you started from..unless there was a road somewhere back you passed along your journey and you think just about now that road is the road you should have taken all along.
but that is beside the point, a junction is in your path and you are unsure of the way to go.
even when you passed that other road a ways back, you probably contemplated on which way would be the best way.
perhaps this happens more than once in a lifetime. for me, it happens frequently, but at this particular moment in my life, i am indeed at a dilemma. i am stuck.
i can sit here scratching my head for hours, pros and cons of choosing either way.
but eventually, i am going to have to make a decision. i am, however, afraid of making the wrong one.
who knows what each road has to offer, what obstacles, what paths, and what people are along the way.
that is a risk we all take.

there are a lot of people who say that prayer is the best answer to such dilemmas.
God answers prayers. this i know to be true.
however, Gods' answers are not always how we would like them to be, and they do not happen in our frame of time, but His own.
But God is not going to choose which road " I " will go down.
God can only make you feel good about your decision, or bad about it.
i do not mean feel bad as in " by the power vested in me, and the thunder and rain in the sky, you are going to regret your decision". i believe it is a more of an uneasy feeling. " maybe you should not have chosen this. it may not have been the best decision in your life. maybe you should try and find a way to make this right."
He helps you to feel good about things. to make things right.
BUT only i can make the decision. and there are those decisions in life where it does not really matter which way i choose, because in reality, they both are a good path and i have to choose what i feel is better for me.
God won't make me feel good or bad about my decision. but He will support me, and help me on my journey.
this is my hardship at the moment. i am at that point. it does not matter what i choose, i just NEED to choose something.
It is like going cliff jumping for your first time.
It takes courage to climb the cliff and pump your self up for the jump.
Then when you finally reach the point where you must jump, you start second guessing yourself.
You are scared to make the leap, scared of all the "what ifs".
After you stand there for so long, you realize you CAN do it, and after a few more quick breathes you take the leap!!!
As you fall you are embracing yourself for the impact, and right when you hit the water, you knew that is was worth it.the free fall, the adrenaline, the excitement.
Needless to say you had so much fun you probably are going to do it again!

Life takes courage. And many moments to pump us up.it is natural to contemplate, but eventually, you have to move forward.
You cannot sit at the top of the cliff, cold and unsure and too afraid to make a difference.
Sometimes the leap is the hardest part, but once it is made, the fun is only starting to begin :)

unlock::

there is a belief that doors are symbols of a spiritual nature.
like walls, they contain secrets, house protection, and whatever is on the other side is a mystery.
but unlike walls, which tend to be broken down to get to the other side, a door has a key.
to enter and leave as you please.
unlike walls, doors are a pathway to the knowing, to the mysterious.
and these keys are the questions.
if doors represent spiritual matter, and the keys are the questions you ask, then how far is it to think we are the spiritual, we hold the answers.
every question we have ever asked, we knew the answer all along.
deep down in our soul, guarded by a door of unknowing, we knew the secret.
we just needed to ask the right question, and at the right time to unlock that lock.
to see inside the room.
to understand the mystery.
knowledge is a gift.
our soul is a treasure.
but our soul is hungry for the knowledge only we can obtain on this earth.
to understand the mysteries of life.
we can do that. we have the capabilities. perhaps not the right timing, but it is a reassurance that no matter the difficulties, no matter the delays or confusion, we have the keys to unlock that door, to retrieve the answer we long for.
there is no telling how, when, where, or why.
but the universe has a funny way of pulling things together.


past post::

change::

The day drags on. People walk past but to my eye, blurry shapes. Their faces dissolve, as if melting from their structure. These unfamiliar surroundings remind me of nothing. But as I try to clear my mind of it all, thoughts pound at my door, bursting through more violent and determined than before. Pain they bring and raging fire. Hate and spit and a strange dose of despair and lost hope..

To bring yourself to the instant conclusion of your purpose is too clear. Things once your strengths are questioned to even exist. That is not who you are anymore. Truth is, the statement or belief, people change. Our physical state remains the same, my overall appearance remains the same, my name, size, horoscope, these all are me. But my spiritual state, intellectual and emotional state changes. For some the change is constant. People are not the same people they were two years ago, two months ago, probably two days ago. Life influences change. And everyone lives life. To learn is to change. The ultimate conclusion that through life you learn and change.

-11/10/13-

Insanity

Living a double life is a double standard.
Trying to be someone to everyone around you.
There is no easy way to go through with it.
There is no solution or resolution to a happy ending.
Your only reality is your insanity.
Two different people in one body.
Take two birds down with one stone.
A breath of fresh air, to calm your troubled soul.
Never mind the people that get hurt in the process.
The emotional stamina, the swing of personalities.
Te extremes you place on others.
This is not a game, nor is it a coincidence.
I take that back, nothing is a coincidence.
The universe has a funny sense of humor.
They say there are two sides to every story, two sides to your heart failure.
Insanity is just one to put it. A mental disorder is another.
Two sides to every story, maybe there are three.
No one can stand a chance.
No wonder no one can fight the battle that rages inside.
Trust yourself and wall it up.
There is no person who can stand it. Not a one
False problems, incomplete assurances and promises.
Sometimes it is better pushing those you care about away to save yourself from the flame.
People who are flammable sometimes push those who are burning with the fire of life away because they are afraid of being burned.

world war me

it is almost hard to say anything at all. what drives my thoughts, my imaginations, my desires, my emotions. my life is a shell, guarded by a wall too complicated to build and yet, a constant project. this wall is never sturdy, but it is never down. but the tragedy lies not in the ill-constructed wall, but what is on the other side.

walls are supposed to keep harm out and if looked on it in another perspective, to keep harm in. the walls of a prison for example. are they not built to keep those harmful beings inside and away from humanity? or a mental hospital? or even mcdonalds?

the walls are there, regardless if we want them to be or not. it is reality. it is humanity. every wall has a purpose, and every wall has a weakness, figuratively or metaphorically..same thing right?

but why the sudden interest in walls....

there are two sides to every story. there are two of a kind. what happens on one side of the wall and what happens on the other? in life, we put up walls to keep ourselves from being hurt, emotionally, physically. from the beginning of time, walls are a representation of security. each wall serves a different purpose, however. there are always two different perspectives to a wall. those on the outside of a prison wall see it as assiduity, knowing the people on the other side will not harm them. but those are in the inside of those walls, what do they think? those walls are literally a prison, a wrong, an unfair treatment, their new home, their utter demise and doom, their hell. what is so secure about that feeling?

in a matter of speaking, these walls in my past and my future are a constant battle, between myself and i. i break them down, a never ending war. only i know the weaknesses, the answers. and for a brief moment, half of myself will conquer the other half. the two seperates in a hostile agreement. it may seem there is peace, but in reality, it is a dictatorship where the stronger half pulls through. not for long. the wall will eventually grow, slowly but surely. perhaps both halves agree, and the berlin wall will be torn down for real peace? or an outside force will negotiate a truce within me.... until that time, this girl, this human is a walking double threat.
which side will be persuaded, won over, and if that be the case, who is willing to bear through the war of the other half? there is no switzerland in the matter, a neutral party within me. and certainly no france that withdraws from the fight. both sides are fighters, both sides are equally strong. of course they are, because they both are me.



friendship::

it can be expected that life does not go as you hope it will.
people in your life come and go.
things that you once loved are no longer of interest.
the ones that bring you most joy drive you completely crazy.
you may feel stupid and insecure as new things take flight.
but there is nothing wrong with you.
there is nothing wrong with me.
my doubt and fears are just my insecurities.
keep being myself and do what i do.
be who i am and see my life through.
i cannot change for anyone nor should i try.
it is really what counts on the inside.
at times i feel discouraged, and unaware of all.
times where i cant stop my thoughts
my mind goes on and on
it feels when people come to realize who i am
they take offense or back away.
i cannot help the fact that i love to give and i love to share.
that i love to serve and i love to care.
it is in my nature to be so dear.
and yet it feels when this happens, i come off too strong.
i do not mean to be but as a result, i second guess my self.
i hold back and i lose myself in despair.
i assume the worst and i cower in self loathing.
i need to accept myself for the person i am
if you think i am hitting on you or being too close,
that is just the way i am
i love to surround myself with positive ora
but friends is all i am looking for-a
nothing more and nothing less
so forgive me for doing my best.
yes i enjoi flirting but who does not dear ones?
it opens up our hearts,
it lowers our walls and lets us all inside.
it helps us be more comfortable with each other
as well as with ourselves.
it should not be frowned upon
nor should it be discouraged in this day.
i reflect too much on things that are past.
i act as though i have done something wrong
i said something stupid or nothing at all
i should not have asked that question or gave that compliment
but that is all how it went.
people and friends perhaps do not even mind
when i say what i say or act how i do
but none the less it is always too few
who really think too much of things,
my self included. it's true.
i have come to the realization i cannot doubt myself
or fake who i am not
even if at times i lose that sight and since have forgot.
i am a good person and i love all around me
i accept everyone for who they are and what they want to be.
i show my love through words and deeds
through service, through gifts,
through virtuosity
i cannot hold back.
you cannot stop a flower from blooming with killing it.
you cannot stop a bird from flying.
so why stop a person from being as they are without them dying?
can you blame me for the person that i am?
i should not be blind nor lose my senses completely.
for if you are my friend, which i hope you are
than now that all my love is heart felt friendship
given to you because i am glad you walked into my life
and what i share and give to you is a bit of my soul,
an answer to a happily ever after wish :)
-12/04/12

Outside storms:

Just as soon as there is sunshine, rain clouds are never an impossibility.
The thunder roars. The flash of light ignites the room with a fierce glow. As the storm begins to rage outside, the room is still.
It is funny how one simple storm can change the course of your life. The symbolism a storm can hold. Whether it is a storm outside, or a storm inside, figuratively. A storm in religion, as The Savior and Lord Jesus Christ calmed the raging seas as well as the fears of those on the ship in the storm.

Hallelujah the storm is here. The clouds cannot hide the light. They magnify it. Each bolt of lightning, a piece of light in darkness, pouring light over every inch of the sky. A brief moment, yes, but what a sight. The danger. Sometimes the one thing one fears can actually be a beauty.

The power of the force of a storm. Of a force that lies in the storm. There is no telling what could happen. What caused the storm and what drives its fury?

A simple storm, no harm intended most likely. But this one small storm is one in a million. There is always a little rain before it pours. A funny saying especially since a storm implies rain. But the sayin kind of fit for the metaphor. How about there are always crumbs before the cookie is found, or the prize. There is always a a shot before the blood and damage. One small act before a major consequence or outcome.

What I am trying to say. Not every storm has a season or a plan. The idea of the storm, regardless of its fury, is still a storm. And let me tell you they build up. Soon, a storm will be raging, too out if control for even itself to contain.

this room:

this room is familiar. i have been here before. the black molding lining the white walls. a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. it is nothing fancy as you would probably have seen in marie antoinettes' day, but it is a chandelier none the less. the small dangling crystals reflect the light from the two windows on the western wall. the curtains are plain, white lace, nothing extravagant. and yet, the windows themselves are beautiful. a simple window is all they are, but their view, what they see is intriguing.

today, outside these windows there is a child walking along a park path. green and vibrant are the flowers that encircle the young but fertile trees. the child walks at a fair pace, almost as if she is enjoying something. perhaps a friendly breeze? maybe she has an ipod and is listening to her favorite, soothing tune. in todays world you never know. it could be an itunes mix or a pandora station. if it were me, it would be my indie-alternative station on pandora.  something that makes me revive. i never know what would be playing next. the possibilities are endless. the amount of music in this world is incredible, almost impossible to grasp it all.

beyond the child in the park sits a man near a telephone pole. an unusual place to sit ones self. maybe he is a homeless man and he has no where else to go. he could be a CEO of a major corporation and he stepped in some gum and he had to get it off his fancy, gabana shoe. or maybe he is a man who just got word that his wife passed away and the news was more than he could bear standing.

across the street a building houses 50 or more tenants, and 15 pets. the day is a beautiful one. the sun shining through the trees at the park. there is not a cloud in the sky. oh yes, these windows hold a special power. a way to see what is on the outside while still remaining inside. a way to imagine the possibilities of a life through glass. so close we are, but the truth is not in sight. we only see and know what we imagine ourselves.

yes this room is too familiar. i recollect i have been here before, more than once. nothing seems to have changed much, except the view from those windows i admire. this interior remains the same  while all the world around it lives on, never remaining constant. but this room....where are the pictures? there was two the last time i was here. on each wall from the door hung two photographs, paintings to say the least. now they are gone. interesting. the two chairs remain the same. rustic mahogony wood with blue cushions. one vibrant teal pillow sits on each one. blue cushions, i could never comprehend the choice of such a color for a chair in a black and white room. i figured the decor would remain the same. these pillows, however are interesting. i have always admired the teal color. i pick them up just to feel them. the fringes have a, what would you say, feathery feel and appearance. if the light from the crystals on the chandelier hit these pillows just right, they almost shimmer. funny since these pillows are well, fabric.

on the other side of the room the door opens. the pillows still in my hand, my eyes are focused on making the pillows shimmer from the crystals above.

" always curious to the point of not making sense, aren't we?"
i put the pillow back on its throne. " well, there is nothing wrong with a little curiousity. it is not like it ever killed the kat or anything."

..........more to come.

past blog::

mumbles::

How fast the time has gone and even all along

My feet are running the same route they traveled every day

My mind has most the scent of flavours that pass from the depths of time

Jokes cannot breathe whitish things but chores cute any soul.

My car drives by. The sun doth set.

The moon has risen and from this night, these kids are grown

Introduction

i have come to the conclusion this blog has been out of service for quite some time. it is weird that is has not been FROZEN. i recently went to play some games on the Neopets website ( yes I love that website and i have ever since i was a child) and my account was Frozen due to the fact i have not been on there for years. how interesting to know that different websites freeze or delete your accounts if they are not used regularly or monthly. how is this one still alive??

it is true, i started to use another blog, but that blog was used for the specific purpose of thought and challenge. i decided to write every day for a year. whatever was on my mind would go into that blog. however, upon realizing other people have done that as well, i felt unoriginal and i stopped. today, as i read through those entries, i am mad at myself for stopping a project that meant something to me, all because it was not unique in the world. it was, however, a unique thing for me. as a i read over those entries, i am in awe at my words, my thoughts and feelings. as i look back, i am taken by surprise at the words that are on the pages. i know i am no fantastic writer, but they hit me. it is hard to believe those words, those entries are written by me. almost as unbelievable as my fascination with mustaches.

because of this, i have taken it upon myself to take up my once stopped project and make it better. i will not only write poetry, but lifes lessons, short stories, etc. and since that blog is no longer going to be my main focus (since this blog will be my new focus) i will be adding my posts from my old blog to this one, one a day until they all are complete. and i will start with the last one posted. slowly but surely this blog will continue to grow and expand and reach an audience who will help my words be heard. i have a lot to say, and i am not always the best at saying it, nor writing it for that matter.

my words will never be edited. how they appear is how they will stay and how they were meant to be said. everything happens for a reason. the pictures posted are reflections of my inner mind, only through the inspirations and eyes of another who is not me. self portraits will occur, but not as often as intended.

each title of the blog will be titled through the inspiration of the blog of the day. as i re-read my old thoughts, i am curious to know who inspired me to write them that day. who or what was on my mind that made me feel the way that i did.....maybe if it is a specific person i will refrain from real names. they will be initials, or perhaps even code names. regardless, i will take the time to express my inspiration through the title and throughout the blog itself. 

i take this entry as my first: my introduction. inspired by me.
and now, to re-post a former blog entry from the other blog. these entries will ALWAYS be in a color. enjoi :)

art::

You see a person as a piece of work.
Each person is perfect, in the eyes of God.
Each person has a story.
Each story has a beginning and an end.
People are a piece of work, a masterpiece in the making.
This masterpiece waiting to be discovered.
I am afraid such a piece of work is not loved and appreciated for years afters its appearance.
Each life instance a stroke upon a canvas.
Every memory a color of choice.
Every choice an inspiration or idea brought to pass.
That is what great art is.
But like art, every piece has different interpretations and the insights are all based on one persons view.
Each person has an idea, a vision.
Sometimes one can stare at a piece of work for hours, a lifetime if they please.
But they will never truly understand that masterpiece.
As much as one tries to understand, they never will.
They can only assume, guess, and try to relate.
To bring about what it makes them feel.
Anger, sadness, regret, denial, happiness, joy.
Every emotion different each time the view is shown.
Even the artist themselves most often than not have not the slightest clue the revelation.

Every person is a masterpiece.
Every soul a story.
Art is a story.
Observe, and try to understand.
It can surprise you.