Incredulity is justified when you are given
Crappy Doomsday devices
Stairway to heaven, knocking on Heaven's door, allusions.
Harry should hit that
Truth =[
More Truth =[
Life Lesson: Guns = Popcorn
We all don't get the attention we deserve
Monday, May 19, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Woman, without her, man is nothing.
I had a dream. Not a bad dream, nothing close to a nightmare, but the best dream I have ever had in my life. As my mind flung itself through the infinite confines of unconsciousness I found myself lying dejected, depressed and lonely at a party. Suddenly from the depths of my mind a beautiful, nameless girl came through the doorway and sat on my crotch. I eventually realized that this was the opening to an erotic moment, and as my erection grew I caressed the silky velvet of her back carefully, which brought me closer to her than the sex as it was the utmost sign of affection. And as it was about to begin I felt the zenith of the emotions of lust, love and yearning. Then I knew I could never experience this overwhelming feeling with anyone else or simulate it any other way, and I was ebullient and full of life. The next day I found myself at a beach with her, but we were split among a large group of people, so I called her. Through the muffled air I asked in an unsure, and due to the cellphone, cracked voice “Uh… Does this make us boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
“Lovers.”
“Haha, yes”
Then I knew the moments we would have together, holding each other romantically. Listening to each other’s deepest fears underneath the comfort of the multihued trees of fall, grasping each other in bed and loving until love was exhausted. And this dream of romance in bed made me turn over to embrace her, but I found through groping that I was alone, with only the sweat on my palms and the tears in my eyes to console me.
I soon began to think of her as an angel, the most beautiful woman in existence, the paradigm of surrealistic ethereality and serenity, but I knew that this was not a characteristic of this apparition that had such a profound affect upon me, and I loved her for it, physically her, mentally her, I loved the very idea that there is a her there for me, I loved her for simply existing, and I hated her lack of existence.
And soon the loneliness faded away as I assuaged my wounds gained by the spontaneous manner she had been torn away from me when I had become conscious. I began to think of music, of the females I know in real life and scenarios with them that would be able to link us together. I began to realize that the wonderful lover of mine was only a ghost, and instead of pondering her I began to wonder who the hell on the real earth could inspire the same emotion. I began to forget that feeling of lust, love and yearning, forget how it even felt, and I left its overwhelming power. I have yet to find it again.
“Yes.”
“Lovers.”
“Haha, yes”
Then I knew the moments we would have together, holding each other romantically. Listening to each other’s deepest fears underneath the comfort of the multihued trees of fall, grasping each other in bed and loving until love was exhausted. And this dream of romance in bed made me turn over to embrace her, but I found through groping that I was alone, with only the sweat on my palms and the tears in my eyes to console me.
I soon began to think of her as an angel, the most beautiful woman in existence, the paradigm of surrealistic ethereality and serenity, but I knew that this was not a characteristic of this apparition that had such a profound affect upon me, and I loved her for it, physically her, mentally her, I loved the very idea that there is a her there for me, I loved her for simply existing, and I hated her lack of existence.
And soon the loneliness faded away as I assuaged my wounds gained by the spontaneous manner she had been torn away from me when I had become conscious. I began to think of music, of the females I know in real life and scenarios with them that would be able to link us together. I began to realize that the wonderful lover of mine was only a ghost, and instead of pondering her I began to wonder who the hell on the real earth could inspire the same emotion. I began to forget that feeling of lust, love and yearning, forget how it even felt, and I left its overwhelming power. I have yet to find it again.
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