Twaddles

Again I made a complete and utter idiot out of myself. I again believed that a talk could help and while I was talking I got the strange feeling that I was talking to myself. It wasn

Current Mood: Dumb
Current Music: A Fool Am I Agnetha Faltskog

I got my reply, nothing new, just the same, take it or leave it, in other words just go, go to hell, where I have already been.

After 7 years, after all that has been, that's it, take it or leave it. Just that, nothing else.

No more tomorrows, no more hope, no more nothing.

Worthless trash! In the bin. Just go!

I might as well, I won't be missed.

Current Mood: Heartbroken
Current Music: The Final Curtain - Tony Banks

Leopards don't change their spots. They can't. It is not in their power to do so, even if they want to. So, if I am going to live with a leopard, I better develop a deep and genuine liking for spots. And I better prepare for a life during which those spots don't change. But I can

Current Mood: Sad
Current Music: Intezaar - Anuradha Paudwal

You shut your eyes,
and me,
Out of your life,
I represent shame,
Your shame.

Current Mood: Cold
Current Music: Shame - Stabbing Westward

I have not compared myself to her. I have no way of comparison even if I wanted to. I don

Current Mood: Thoughtful
Current Music: Second Hand Woman - Steve Winwood

I thought love was sharing the good, the bad and the ugly. I thought love was being one

Current Mood: Worried
Current Music: Whats love got to do with it - Tina Turner

Perhaps the disappointment I feel is my own fault, after all when one feels let down one possibly could have had too high expectations in the first place. But is it really too much to expect that after 2 weeks of more or less silence that I do get some decent time? That after all the recent crap at least

Current Mood: Sad
Current Music: I m a Marionette - ABBA

Secenario One:

One day I will take you to India and show you all those places where the legends where created. Remember all the stories I told you? We will walk with the ghosts and let them tell us their stories. I will take you to Mandu, and show you the Jahaz Mahal which was also built for love. There was this poet-prince Baz Bahadur who fell in love with a singer named Roopmati. He built that exquisite palace for her in the shape of a ship. She married him, but they did not live happily ever after. When Akbar the Great heard of her beauty, he dispatched an army to Mandu to capture her. Bahadur managed to slip away from the battle, but his bride was left behind in the palace. The poor thing poisoned herself rather than fall into the clutches of the attackers. It

Current Mood: Amazed
Current Music: Change - MEST

I could talk forever,
Talk until I'm blue in the face
Of how corrupt this love now is,
I could tell you ideas
That all the things you harbour are based on selfishness.
But it would be futile, it would make no sense.

As tight as the bond once was, being with you
Is like being alone, with discomfort,
Yet still a bizarre security, like a blank void.
A void, when I look at you and see myself.
The clear wall abounds, and why must it be?

We stood face to face,
Now rather back to back,
Now only our walls touch.
We do not.
Perhaps we never will again.
Perhaps I'd like to put myself in a place
That doesn't hurt.
Oh to be coy!
So I would be unaffected by emotions
And use them for toys, to play with
And twist, and burn.
Burn to the ground.

Love; no wonder it's so hard to understand.
Hate is hate. Anger is anger. Sadness is sadness.
Love is a vague melted medley of all that is.

There is a room in my mind where I keep you.
When I leave, I would slam the door shut, hard.
One day the hinges dissolved beneath my tears.
And now there is no more door.
The contents of the room

Current Mood: Embarrassed
Current Music: Still Loving You - Scorpions

I stand here shouting at the walls,
Trying to get them to respond.
Calling out for them to let me in,
Begging, screaming, cursing, crying.
Just say something. Please!!!

I stand here pounding on the walls,
Trying to hurt them like I hurt.
Bleeding palms, and jagged nails,
Hitting, punching, scratching, slapping.
Just feel something. Please!

I standing here looking at the walls
Looking for the soul that was inside
Hoping, praying, moaning, sobbing,
Blood shot eyes, too tired to see.
Just look back at me. Please!

I stand here shouting at the walls,
To the person who stands in front of them.
My love? Where are you now?
I'm crying, dying, tired of trying.
For you to just love me. Please!

Current Mood: Desperate
Current Music: The Wall - Pink Floyd

Today is one of the days that I would rather not remember, yet it has been stuck in my mind, rewinding and replaying over and over like a tape in a loop. I close my eyes and I am back there, still there, even in my sleep I relive the pain of it all. Theoretically it should be a day like any other. Are not all days created equal? Perhaps they are, just as in theory, all people are created equal too. But it is still very hard to resist agreeing with Orwell's assertion that, 'some are more equal than others'. This day is one of the days that will be etched in my mind for ever. It

Current Mood: Screwed
Current Music: Yesterday - The Beetles

I know you well, but not at all
Between us lies a screen of light
No one to call, in doubts I fall
And no one here who knows my plight

It isn't right, without a fight
My bowing to your luring charms
I need respite, ask if I might
A day, a month

Current Mood: Heartbroken
Current Music: Far Away - Eiffel 65

Life is a gift of borrowed time
And where I choose to spend it
I am not allowed

Current Mood: Heartbroken
Current Music: Still Loving You - Scorpions

In love there are no crimes past forgiveness and I wish that there were two lives apportioned to every man and every woman. Wouldn

Current Mood: Screwed
Current Music: I am nothing - Katatonia

"There is only one situation that I can think of in which men and women make an effort to read better than they usually do. When they are in love and reading a love letter, they read for all they are worth. They read every word three ways; they read between the lines and in the margins... Then, if never before or after, they read."
- Mortimer J. Adler

In the (not even so very distant) past, letters were an art form. One picked the paper, wrote in ink, tried to write in a nice legible way, etc. But the 21st century has seen the decline of this art - killed by the phone and the internet. A phone conversation is different - it's more casual and interactive - but something is missing and when one hangs up it is gone!. The act of writing a letter forced one to think through ones thoughts, feelings and opinions, organise them, word them, write them out, make some time etc. Now with the net, we have sort of a rebirth of letters. It's not the same though! The artful penmanship is gone. Email is more casual, yes it is much faster and immediate, but definitely less impressive. Nevertheless I always love getting mail. It usually means someone's thinking about me, or has something to say, or sometimes it's just a pleasant distraction from the usual hectic pace of life - a bit of humour or a provocative thought...

Love is about the magic that inspires us all. The beautiful expressions that we send to each other to make each other feel special, appreciated and loved. And now as the postal systems get worse and worse and email takes over, great romantic correspondence will sadly become even harder and more rare. Now, in today's rushed society, the jaw-drop-to-the-floor-heart-melting love letters are as rare as hitting a jackpot in Las Vegas, as rare as a blizzard in the Sahara desert, as rare as a parking space down-town at noon on a weekday. Sighs. You get the point: rarity!

Most of the love letters are written in the first great flush of romance, so their theme is simple and predictable - 'I'm in love with you and only you. And I'm in love with you more than anyone has ever been in love with anyone else or will be again and I will love you forever.'  But in reality as nice as it sounds it is nothing but a superb empty boast and a defiance of common sense even, because no great love lasts at that level of intensity over years and years.

Shakespeare wrote that

Current Mood: Itching For One
Current Music: Love Letter - Nick Cave