Sorry Dennis.
i was just musing how you dont seem to care that you ARE attractive..
Well baby, I do.
But it's easier to cope pretending that you don't care.
But what the hell, I'm going shopping!
Saturday, February 01, 2003
I censured the poem below... Then i changed it back. Would't be justice, altering a work of art. Harder since yes, I do like Phillip Larkin.
Sorry Dennis.
i was just musing how you dont seem to care that you ARE attractive..
Well baby, I do.
But it's easier to cope pretending that you don't care.
But what the hell, I'm going shopping!
Sorry Dennis.
i was just musing how you dont seem to care that you ARE attractive..
Well baby, I do.
But it's easier to cope pretending that you don't care.
But what the hell, I'm going shopping!
Another thingi from Ling's blog. Yes dennis, i'm talking to you. *wink*
This Be The Verse
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.
Ha.
I feel as if I've lost my brain. My grasp of language, mediation and delicacy slipping away like a shadow, silently mocking.
I can't do anything about that.
I fear. I've realised that that has evolved into my lifeline. The one thing that gave me worth - words. And now it's slipping away from me.
But then again, it's only words, only vocabulary. So why do I fear so much?
Because you misplace your measure of worth
No, you don't have to shout.
This Be The Verse
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.
Ha.
I feel as if I've lost my brain. My grasp of language, mediation and delicacy slipping away like a shadow, silently mocking.
I can't do anything about that.
I fear. I've realised that that has evolved into my lifeline. The one thing that gave me worth - words. And now it's slipping away from me.
But then again, it's only words, only vocabulary. So why do I fear so much?
Because you misplace your measure of worth
No, you don't have to shout.
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
Monday, January 27, 2003
Just let me die
No. God please no.
I've prayed, with a multitude of people,
If only you knew,
if only we knew.
I cannot say anything, that would be worthy of your attention.
For you've experience too much.
Your blood will always rest upon my head.
Give me release
witness me
I am outside
give me peace
Heaven holds a sense of wonder
and I wanted to believe
that I'd get caught up
when the rage in me subsides
In this white wave
I am sinking
in this silence
in this white wave
in this silence
I believe
Passion chokes the flower
'til she cries no more
possessing all the beauty
hungry still for more
Heaven holds a sense of wonder...
I can't help this longing
comfort me
I can't hold it all in
if you won't let me
Heaven holds a sense of wonder...
In this white wave
I am sinking
in this silence
in this white wave
in this silence
I believe
I have seen you
in this white wave
you are silent
you are breathing
in this white wave
I am free
~sarah
No. God please no.
I've prayed, with a multitude of people,
If only you knew,
if only we knew.
I cannot say anything, that would be worthy of your attention.
For you've experience too much.
Your blood will always rest upon my head.
Give me release
witness me
I am outside
give me peace
Heaven holds a sense of wonder
and I wanted to believe
that I'd get caught up
when the rage in me subsides
In this white wave
I am sinking
in this silence
in this white wave
in this silence
I believe
Passion chokes the flower
'til she cries no more
possessing all the beauty
hungry still for more
Heaven holds a sense of wonder...
I can't help this longing
comfort me
I can't hold it all in
if you won't let me
Heaven holds a sense of wonder...
In this white wave
I am sinking
in this silence
in this white wave
in this silence
I believe
I have seen you
in this white wave
you are silent
you are breathing
in this white wave
I am free
~sarah
Sunday, January 26, 2003
I can't say anything to you, I want to...
Please please please, do this for me, don't do anything.
I bleed with you, for you, because of you.
And there's nothing i can do, but read your life, through a little grey box.
Or what's left of it.
But you can be so much more...
you come out at night
that's when the energy comes
and the dark side's light
and the vampires roam
you strut your rasta wear
and your suicide poem
and a cross from a faith
that died before Jesus came
you're building a mystery
you live in a church
where you sleep with voodoo dolls
and you won't give up the search
for the ghosts in the halls
you wear sandals in the snow
and a smile that won't wash away
can you look out the window
without your shadow getting in the way
oh you're so beautiful
with an edge and a charm
but so careful
when I'm in your arms
'cause you're working
building a mystery
holding on and holding it in
yeah you're working
building a mystery
and choosing so carefully
you woke up screaming aloud
a prayer from your secret god
you feed off our fears
and hold back your tears
give us a tantrum
and a know it all grin
just when we need one
when the evening's thin
oh you're a beautiful
a beautiful fucked up man
you're setting up your
razor wire shrine
~sarah
Now what do i do? I cry in my heart when i think of you. I always will.
You, beautiful Loser
Yes Beautiful, I love you.
I pondered upon the price of having you as a friend and i'd have you know that I am grateful that i have you in my life.
I love your honestly, bluntness delivered in love,
I love your fierce sense of loyalty
I love how you refuse to be shortchanged and only demand the best for others as well.
You're pretty much amazing.
Obsessions, it's like sex
She's the face on the radio
She's the body on the morning show
She's there shaking it out on the scene
And she's the colour of a magazine
She's employed where the sun don't set
And she's the shape of a cigarette
And she's the shake of a tambourine
And she's the colour of a magazine
She is strung out on a TV dream
And she's the taste of the gasoline
And she's as similar as you can get
To the shape of a cigarette
~She's in fashion.
A!
It was great seeing her in again... alive and kicking
~dennis
Yes we all felt that way... relieved, joyous, and affectionate.
We'll wait.
Dennis
OffDebbie's blog:
Love begins with a feeling of security, you are warm with a sense of nearness, even when apart. You want nearness, but near or far, you know she's yours and you can wait.
Love takes root slowly and grows with time. Two people do not fall into love, they grow into love
Love is not a feeling, love is a decision, a commitment to a person. Love remains established through whatever life throws at it
Love leads you up. It makes you look up, think up. It makes you a better person than you were before.
True yes? *hug*
Please please please, do this for me, don't do anything.
I bleed with you, for you, because of you.
And there's nothing i can do, but read your life, through a little grey box.
Or what's left of it.
But you can be so much more...
you come out at night
that's when the energy comes
and the dark side's light
and the vampires roam
you strut your rasta wear
and your suicide poem
and a cross from a faith
that died before Jesus came
you're building a mystery
you live in a church
where you sleep with voodoo dolls
and you won't give up the search
for the ghosts in the halls
you wear sandals in the snow
and a smile that won't wash away
can you look out the window
without your shadow getting in the way
oh you're so beautiful
with an edge and a charm
but so careful
when I'm in your arms
'cause you're working
building a mystery
holding on and holding it in
yeah you're working
building a mystery
and choosing so carefully
you woke up screaming aloud
a prayer from your secret god
you feed off our fears
and hold back your tears
give us a tantrum
and a know it all grin
just when we need one
when the evening's thin
oh you're a beautiful
a beautiful fucked up man
you're setting up your
razor wire shrine
~sarah
Now what do i do? I cry in my heart when i think of you. I always will.
You, beautiful Loser
Yes Beautiful, I love you.
I pondered upon the price of having you as a friend and i'd have you know that I am grateful that i have you in my life.
I love your honestly, bluntness delivered in love,
I love your fierce sense of loyalty
I love how you refuse to be shortchanged and only demand the best for others as well.
You're pretty much amazing.
Obsessions, it's like sex
She's the face on the radio
She's the body on the morning show
She's there shaking it out on the scene
And she's the colour of a magazine
She's employed where the sun don't set
And she's the shape of a cigarette
And she's the shake of a tambourine
And she's the colour of a magazine
She is strung out on a TV dream
And she's the taste of the gasoline
And she's as similar as you can get
To the shape of a cigarette
~She's in fashion.
A!
It was great seeing her in again... alive and kicking
~dennis
Yes we all felt that way... relieved, joyous, and affectionate.
We'll wait.
Dennis
Off
Love begins with a feeling of security, you are warm with a sense of nearness, even when apart. You want nearness, but near or far, you know she's yours and you can wait.
Love takes root slowly and grows with time. Two people do not fall into love, they grow into love
Love is not a feeling, love is a decision, a commitment to a person. Love remains established through whatever life throws at it
Love leads you up. It makes you look up, think up. It makes you a better person than you were before.
True yes? *hug*
