As the cold dries my lips,
Ironically........
I feel a stinging pain,
In the depth of my heart,
The pain that cannot be mentioned,
Ironically.............
This cancer within me is caused,
By a being that is part of me,
Part of my heart.
Ironically.............
I'd do anything for this creature,
Eventhough it pains me with insults.
Ironically...............
The one you care most,
You can never open up to,
because of the fright of rejection.
Ironically....................
I pray with each day that passes,
I will learn to forget the pain and look into the LIGHT within this creature.
Why is it that things can look so good at one time and then deceiving the next. Many times I am asked to believe in things but later I am duped and caught in dissappointment. Where does it all end? Maybe I put my hopes and dreams in unreachable heights without managing to work on it.
I feel worthless... I guess all of us do but some at most times. I guess God seriously has to play apart in all these aspects of life. This is to make sure his fellow creations don't fall to the edge..its easy to do that when you're desperate. Desperate for an answer, desperate to find companionship at the wrong places, desperate to be found, desperate to be heard and desperate to be noticed. Time and planning can only heal the wounds that have re-opened itself.
Well, I guess whoever who would read this would be as clueless as a well-polished bench. It's just that I feel I am an actress on stage without a clue what my next line is, without a clue how I might feel and I just keep taking the wrong steps. It's like I never learn! I ain't dealing with LIFE very well. I should take a step backwards and see myself. But all I see is bluriness and numbness. Have you ever felt that way? They say the Truth will set you Free...most times the Truth hurts so much I have become such a pessimist in everything. How am I supposed to become a good teacher at this rate? Sometimes, actually most times I never see myself as a teacher.
Let's hope getting back to Uni improves my state of mind or I might end up a loony-bin trying to understand other people through myself. It's not healthy doing that cause It isn't about other people...it ends up only about yourself(a warning)...so empathy is the word I guess.
My screws are loose,
Scarabees the Dung Beetle!
BLOOD DIAMOND
Define the word to be dependent. Is it to go to the throngs of life because of abandonment? Or is it a figment of the imagination. Emotions have been a yo-yo, whether to forgive and forget or just forget. Forget about the hurt or just keep away. As time flies, the identity of what was thought to be diminishes. Have we been living a tale, a tale of two hearts and two emotions welled up. So mixed up it becomes poison and burns the heart. Is this suffocation going to make me mad and frenzying for a way out. Becoming critical and keeping shadows in the soul hurts and melts the trust. When will this ever end, when would light come through, when do we know when we’re right.
The time has come to search within, within the spectrum of our souls. To find something from within, a diamond we can hang upon, a diamond that would make what we ought to be. Not a shadow or an outline of another gem. Celebration seems to fall in space but with what span of time do we rally have. Anticipation, prayers, thoughts, reminiscing fills our sponges, what has time for us next? A riddle we all think we solve but keep falling under the wheel of life. Only to be crushed, not once, but into gazillion pieces that we need to piece together in one single entity of emotion.
We have become as some say, a horrific tune that would be deemed as banshees screaming. Like how, unpolished diamonds scream to be heard, to be appreciated. Charcoal fills the heart; invisible blackness steals fresh newness in our breath. We feel guilt when we are innocent. The harmony of life has become a string of unattached nothingness.
A hole even though empty would never experience emptiness and such remorse on being stranded in a dessert. For a hole in itself lie many secrets, secrets of life and colour, of evil and good. Or of both. Of meaningful life, a hole means something even with its vast blackness, a hole has another side. An empty street with an aching voice is what we face, as empty shadows pass, time seeps through fingers like wind between bones.
The cold can freeze a heart to dismay, a brooding cough of phlegm and disease and an acid ness fills the air. Choking has become a norm, an atmosphere. This is not a delusion any more. Delusions are meant for fools, nightmares are meant for black heroes. How do we get to the other side, where the sun shines, calling to come, and calling to be burnt and get back down the wheel.
Sorrow feels the mind of the unspoken, dwell in what is murky, and one becomes an infected part of lifelessness, death. Where would life take us next? Deeper into a hole, where a grave waits for us. Or maybe up the wheel, giving us glory, and crushing the diamond into pieces of lifeless granite, once it touches the ground. Real diamonds are meant to fade, fade into the dusk, and fade into the air we breathe, that burns us…….
How sarah feels right now in her life (thats how i felt in 2007)
