Friday, February 26, 2010

The Suicide



I must make it absolutely clear that this is just something i wrote and has nothing to do whatsoever with my feelings at any time. It's a random piece of writing honed to perfection in my own regard. If it makes you sick i guess that's good. :-) .



Its cold and the cold is entering my body. I can feel it against my skin. I can feel my hair stand up from end to end to ward off the chilly feeling. Now I feel the wind brushing against my feverish temple making it feel all the more cold. I hug myself to feel warmer but its no good the cold is entering my bones now. I‘ve reached the top and then it strikes me ! Am I upto the task I’ve set myself? Is this what I really wish? Where has my life lead me? A thousand questions bombard my brain as it
forces itself into seclusion.

I walk on unconsciously .As the edge becomes visible the fear in my subconscious takes control of my mind. Is it the fear of death or the fear of what will come after death that’s driving me mad? I step closer to the edge tentatively. Fast moving vehicles whir past the building and I assure myself that even if I survive the fall I wouldn’t survive being trampled by one of those trucks. As I muse over my present situation, I mechanically align my toes with the edge. I feel the wind blow even more fiercely as if trying to force me to change my decision. I force myself into a shell. I can feel the stubbornness coming on.

I start to feel dizzy. Before I lose control of myself I offer a silent prayer, turn my eyes to the heavens, hoping I‘m forgiven for my cowardliness.

I lean forward to dive. Now I feel weightless and now the earth becomes larger and larger. Time shrinks and then becomes meaningless as I perish into the cold blackness of the road below.

Without You


Out on the road, in my lemon Vox,

There is nothing to be afraid of;

Out in the open fields, right under the blue sky,

There is just life all around me;

Out in the sunlight, sitting on the bench in the park,

There is just color all about me;

Out in the garden, just by the roses,

The most beautiful scent surrounds me;

Out by the sea, as I step over the waves,

There is no worry to bother me;

Yet why do I feel, Oh why do I feel,

All this is not the same without you;

How do I say this, Oh how do I tell you,

Nothing is the same without your love;

And why do I cry, Oh just tell me why,

When my bed is cold without you by my side;

How do I scream, Oh how do I scream for you,

When I can’t hear the beating of your heart next to mine;

How do I lie, Oh how do I lie,

When I tell myself I will be fine without you;

I just want to cry, oh I want to cry my heart out,

Till you come back to me, till everything feels good again.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Thought of the Day



How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours. – Wayne Dyer



I don’t really believe in Karma, but I do believe in God, and I think that there is a hereafter, and the person would be punished in the hereafter. So that statement is pretty clear. My point on this matter is that, we shouldn’t let ‘how people treat us’ get to us. It’s like life is already too fucked up, so when we let little things get to us, we are just really making our lives more complicated. What really matters is what we think of ourselves, not how other people treat us or think of us. It’s like if you are satisfied and happy, it doesn’t really matter what people think of you or how they treat you. On the other hand, if you are insecure, about even something little, you let that very thing get to you. And that’s seriously not healthy.

Let see it from a different point of view. People say or do what they want to do. It’s probably justified from their point of view. But the best thing to do is to think of it from a neutral standpoint, analyze your actions and their effects, and do the same for the other person. If you think the other person is justified in treating you the way they did, then you are the one definitely at fault and an apology would do the both of you some good. I had say seeing one’s fault isn’t as easy to find fault with the other person, but that’s the crux of the matter, you can’t put it behind you unless you think the other person wasn’t justified in saying or doing what they did. So if you do think so, then just sleep over it. It’s the other person’s headache to think over it and they are responsible for their own actions.

And well same goes the other way around; you are equally responsible for your own reactions and actions.
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My goal here is to say that don’t take shit too seriously; and that’s for your own good. Peace out.

Making Love to a Special Someone Pt.1


As I lay besides her looking into her eyes, our own nakedness but a proof of our intentions. The covers hide my hardness, and I am glad. It’s not that I am ashamed of my masculinity; it’s just that I am not so confident around her. If she had the least inkling that I was as hard as I am, she would probably straddle me, then and there, and I would never get to explore her entire body. The body that amazes me so much, the body that has eluded me for quite some time, and is now here, right within my reach, now so willing to be conquered and explored. For a few seconds I am dumb founded and know not what to do. As I collect my thoughts, I know that I want to kiss her, but where to start, I have no clue whatsoever. I request her to lie on her back. She giggles questioningly but knows from the look in my eyes that I am serious. She turns around to lie on her back; her legs closed together, her arms coming up to cover her breasts, another giggle escaping her cute lips. She turns her head slightly looking at me with a wicked twinkle in her eye, as she wags her tongue at me playfully. She knows I have seen those breasts before, and thinks it’s cute.
Now I know where to start. I grin back at her. “Unhunh?” I say to her as I take her hand in mine and pull it towards me. “Oh wait” I take her other hand and cover her exposed breast with it. I don’t know why she frowned when I removed her hand from its place, but she tends to do that often, with that big forehead of hers. I take the hand that I have freed, rubbing it with my fingers slowly, feeling the tension go from her body, her frown going away. I bring her hand to my lips and kiss the back of her hand. I kiss her knuckles; her fingernails, perking up for attention, I kiss them too. I see a smile cross her lips; it gives my heart a feeling of content and happiness, quite unlike I have ever felt in my life before. All of a sudden, seeing her smile I just want to devour her entire body. I kiss my way up her arm, lick my way down her clavicle; I let my tongue nuzzle in the hollow at the bottom of her neck. She tilts her head to the side to give me access, wanting me to kiss her neck. I know she wants me to do that, but I decide I will tease her for a bit. Licking my way to her other shoulder via her clavicle, as I pause a bit, she tilts her head to the other side, thinking it was a mistake earlier. I just begin to kiss down her other arm. She grabs my head by the hair and pulls me to her neck; I comply but not completely biting on her neck. She squirms in delight, I don’t let go, relishing the taste of her skin. She holds me there, finally I let go and her grip on my hair, eases a bit, and I kiss the part of her neck red from my love bite. She moans slightly letting go of my hair, relishing in the tingling feeling running through her body.

Just when she thinks I couldn’t tease her more, my hand comes up and tingles her under her breast. She laughs out with surprise, almost kicking me in the balls. Her breast again exposed, I cover it with my hand, pinching the nipple. She lets out a sigh as her entire body tenses and as I let go, she opens her eyes and looks me in the eye questioningly. I just close in on her lips and kiss her, she returns the kiss as if it were the very thing that would just make her cum. My tongue slips through her lips, she lets me play around and I can’t get enough. It seems every part of her body I could explore for hours and hours on end. My hand slides up her thigh and she opens her legs, inviting me to touch her there. I know what she wants but I want her to want it more than that. So I just let my finger run over her thighs and then circle her belly button. She sighs, a bit disappointed and I stop kissing her. My hand stays on her belly, my thumb rubbing her belly button. I kiss her cheek, and then nuzzle my nose against her ear, whispering in her ear “I want You in so many different ways” leaving the words to just hang right there. I flick her ear lobe with my tongue, and then make my way down her neck again. Kissing her, breathing against her, feeling her swallow, feeling her pulse quicken with my every kiss; my own feelings I can’t quite explain. I bite her neck again, this time on the other side, making her bite her lip as she tries not to moan. I can feel her belly twitch however and I know she loves it.

I sigh as I raise my head, not wanting to let go of her. I look at her and she is frowning again. Oh how I want to wipe that frown of her face, like flicking an ant off my desk. My eyes just wander to her breasts abandoned to my hungry looks by now.


(Grins wickedly, oh so wickedly, the rest of this love making session would be continued later)

She asked me where I was.....

Well this is what i said ....

Everywhere
I am the wind in your hair
I am the scent in your nose
I am the smile on your lips
I am the color in your cheeks
I am the light in your eyes
I am the lightness in your head
I am the rush of blood to your heart
I am the elegance in your gait
I am a part of you, you like it or not,
I am with you, you like it not,
You better, because I am here to stay.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Classical Kiss



Hmmmn nothing much to say except that i find that image quite perfect in expression.

Artwork by JoseManchado.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Things the mind could never explain.......


Hmmmn the mind is but a stupid ass when it comes to matters of the heart, why try to justify or explain love. If love were in the grasp of the mind, there wouldn't be but a thing called love. Some beautiful feelings, can end in stupid questions, if ya let the mind just wander a little bit........

Sometimes every second can spread over a million minutes
And a minute can stretch over a million hours
Only when you are waiting for your loved one
Only when you are praying they feel the same way as you do

Sometimes a smile can mean everything
Sometimes a hug can make everything alright
Only when you smile to make her happy
Only when you hug her tight

Sometimes a moan can portray every pleasure
Sometimes a sniffle can show all the pain
Only when she makes love to you
Only when she cries for you

Sometimes dreams can become so unbelievable
Sometimes feelings can become so indescribable
Only when you dream about her
Only when you feel love for her


Time contracts and then expands
Words and actions mean everything and nothing
Dreams and Feelings seem so vague
Is this Love or just another dream.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

The Rainstorm


This is one of my earlier writings.....i would be sharing those too from time to time.
Please enjoy

It thundered and it rained but now the sky is clear,
If only I could say the same about the cloud over my heart;

The flowers of spring have been washed away,
Your infidelity has sickened my heart;

Oh, but many a tree has been uprooted,
So has my heart but many a wound;

The wood will be carried away but the roots will remain,
My wounds will heal but your memory will linger;

The roots will grow new shoots for sure,
But will my heart ever trust someone again.

That smile



He wakes up and thinks about her. She wasn’t in his dream. He was looking for her everywhere, but couldn’t find her in his dream. So the first thing he does when he wakes up is look for her. He sees her lying beside him, snuggled up close to him, her hair touching his arm, a sweet smile on her face as she sleeps peacefully. A smile crosses his face, he wants to reach out and caress that face. Just as he is about to do so, he checks himself, do I really want to wake her up, he asks himself. He doesn’t want to disturb this blissful smile upon her face. A smile that has cost him his heart, the smile that he would give anything to see over and over again. A smile that makes his heart skip a beat, every time he sees it play upon her lips. A smile he would never want to wipe away.
And so he just sits there and watches her smile, his heart smiling back down upon her.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Friendship


Some bits and pieces from a conversation between two characters in Identity by Milan Kundera(translation by Linda Asher). The guy (Jean Marc) is talking about a childhood friend he lost because of his unforgivable actions in a situation where instead of protecting Jean Marc, his friend chose to speak against him. The conversation comes up over the news of his death. I have further edited the conversation leaving out unnecessary parts.
Jean Marc: ‘At the end of my hospital visit, he began to reminisce. He reminded me of what I must have said when I was sixteen. When he did that, I understood the sole purpose of friendship as it’s practiced today. Friendship is indispensible to man for the proper function of his memory. Remembering our past, carrying it with us always, may be the necessary requirement for maintaining, as they say, the wholeness of the self. To see that the self doesn’t shrink, to see that it holds on to its volume, memories have to be watered like potted flowers, and the watering calls for regular contact with the witnesses of the past, that is to say, with friends. But I don’t care a damn about what I did in school! What I’ve always wanted, since my early adolescence, maybe even since my childhood, was something else entirely: friendship as a value prized above all others. I liked to say: between the truth and a friend, I always choose the friend. I said it to be provocative, but I really thought it. Today I know that maxim is obsolete. It might have been valid for Achilles as Patroclus’ friend, for Alexander Dumas’ musketeers, even for Sancho Panza, who was a true friend to his master, despite all their disagreements. But for us it isn’t anymore. Friendship for me was proof of the existence of something stronger than ideology, than religion, than the nation.’…………………………..’How is friendship born? Certainly as an alliance against adversity, an alliance without which man would be helpless before his enemies. Maybe there’s no longer a vital need for such an alliance’
Chantal: ‘There will always be enemies’
Jean-Marc: ‘Yes, but they‘re invisible and anonymous. Bureaucracies, laws. What can a friend do for you when they decide to build an airport outside your windows, or when they fire you? Friendship can no longer be proven by some exploit. The occasion no longer lends itself to searching out our wounded friend on the battlefield, or unsheathing your sabre to defend him against bandits. We go through our lives without great perils, but also without friendship.’
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Well, my initial opinion about the writer’s idea above was that it was unique but correct. Its true and the protagonist is justified in having his opinion, based on the fact that his ideal was a friendship prized above all other values. I also agree that a friendship like that is obsolete in the modern world, but the circumstances have changed too. Today one also doesn’t need a friend to stand by one’s side in the battlefield. Today we are surrounded by so many frustrations, depressions and emotional turmoil in daily life, that a friend who can soothe us, listen to our bitching patiently and be there to hold and hug us when we need it, is quite sufficient. And even such friends are hard to come by.
Friendship is indispensible to man for the proper function of his memory. Yes, quite harsh but true. And sometimes we try to forget those friends who do just that, i.e. remind us of our past, the past we are trying so hard to forget. I don’t think that’s such a good idea really. Trying to forget the past, only changes us to someone who we aren’t. Maybe we don’t want to be who we used to be, but is that something we can do. We can’t change who we are, the heart inside us. Trying to forget who we are, just because something bad happened to us, is just the coward’s way out. We don’t really change; we just become better or worse versions of ourselves. The events in our lives make us, break us and change us but at the core of it all, people stay the same, no matter how much they try to change that. Friends who remind us of earlier versions of ourselves, is that really a bad thing? I mean whichever case its whether we change for better or for worse, those friends show us the difference in us, and analyzing that very difference should be able to help us figure out ourselves.
That’s pretty much all I have to say about friendship, in the light of the above passage. Dedicated to my friends, both in the past and the present.