Images

NICE WARMHEARTED bogus FUNNY INTELLIGENT INTERESTING PRETTY feigned SMELL GOOD EASY GOING PLEASING EARNEST illusory CLEVER EXPRESSIVE TALENTED false DILIGENT FUN AFFECTIONATE HONEST KIND SENSITIVE WISE sham MATURE LOVING :

The jewels shimmer most brightly in November.

Natzweiler-Struthof

Ghosts were everywhere there. It was cold and white. I could not trust even the land I stood upon. I could not find an unharmed road to walk on. It was a vast expanse of land, cultivated to satisfy the appetite of the strong. Every inch of the soil was spoiled by blood. The air is full of ferociousness; you can inhale cruelty. I could not stay too long. It was like being jammed inside a freezing, narrow box. You could not move; you just crouched there searching for some light, trying to breathe properly.

I saw them, piled on the snow; towering to the sky; as if trying to make a ladder to escape the electric fence and the maschine guns. A tower of cadavers 800 meters above the sea.

I saw them, hasting in a centrifugal motion leaving the chimney of fire. They did not want to stay there, neither did I. But I could walk out through the gate alive, most of them could not.

My Time Table

What does it like being 30?

As I was 6 I wanted to be 13
(they were so cool I wished to be in their gang in the junior high)

13. Pimple face, outsider, stork, too skinny; member in no gang.



As I was 13 I wanted to be 20
(my neighbor studied chinese literature and could speak the language perfectly...She's tall and pretty and smart, and she already had boobs!)

20. Still too skinny with zits here and there, lonesome, low self esteem; studied german literature, troubles with the grammar, the tallest of the whole school and whaddaya know... a pair of boobs!!



As I was 20 I wanted to be 16
(I wished to be 16 and careless and free!!)

As I was 24 I wanted to be at least 20
(Oh no, I see more wrinkles under my eyes!! Where can I find a good anti aging creme?)

This weekend I will be 26

I freak out

Ginger Milk

2 lt. Milk
300 gr. hoed Ginger
Palm sugar and/or normal sugar (as you like it)
Honey (if you want to)

Put everything in a pot and let it simmer!

Go to your library and choose one of your favorite books. make your bed ready. Read the book while sipping your ginger milk. Play your favorite music on the background. Look outside the window and be thankful because you are warm in your bed reading a good book and sipping the yummiest winter drink ever. The world outside can ravage with its coldness, for all you care!!!

Have a cozy evening!

Despair

Say you need me and I will come to you
Cry out you want me and I will run to you
Lie if you have to and I will believe your words trully

I will not question I will not doubt
I will be dumb I will be naive
If that is what I it takes for me to be in bliss again

Let me hear the soothing sentences
Let me swallow your make believe wholly
Let me praise your utopian existence

The tip of an iceberg is all I long for
Nothing deep nothing sincere
I will numb my sharp feelings

With all my heart I will accept
all these superficial escapes you offer

I will be dumb I will be naive
If that is what it takes for me to be in bliss once again

I Will

I have to wear my mask more often. If they like me better that way, I will. I am too hideous to bee seen, too grotesque to please them. I thought those times have passed by, when I had to wait behind the line and could watch everything from my dark corner. It was really wrong to allow myself to spoil my soul with these delusions. I have never been a beautiful swan. Once an ugly duckling I will stay being one. So I will soothe the world with my mask. I know where I belong, so I will face the sun with my covered face, so that the world could stay intact. The uglyness of me could horrify the calm blue sea and turn the peaceful waves into a fearful tsunami and kill so many innocence on earth. I mean no harm. So I will wear my mask more often. I will.

Living Out Dreams

Yesterday the thought came to me. Another relationship bit the dust; and the thought came to me: where is true love? Is there such a thing as true love?

A year ago I was still this little, naive girl who saw the world through her pink glasses. I believed that people are basically good, that we can always trust others. I knew that there are bad people out there, but somehow I trusted it that they didn't exist in my own-built-world; they couldn't exist. The worst thing is, I believed that there would come the time when I meet the one who will love me with all his heart, the one whom I can love back also with all my heart.

I thought loving someone means always doing it with the whole of your energy, like Elizabeth Browning said in one of her poems, " [...] with depth and breadth and height my soul can reach [....]" I believed her fully. I believed it would come in my way. I always imagined how beautiful it would be, to be able to pour someone your love that way..., to be able to experience it; being loved that way. So everytime I thought love is coming in my little path of life, I thought, " hey, now it is your turn, girl!" Then I would start to live out my dream. In the end (there were unfortunately always ends) I eventually realized that I was just dreaming my love life. In the end it is just me with pieces of my shattered dream.

I am the product of trashy love songs and poems! They mislead many people like me! Urging us to believe virtues, which actually just exist in the minds of simpletons.

Really, they should ban such arts!

Fun(ny) Love

It is a community where love is a commodity.

It is just fun and nothing but fun. If it makes no longer fun then you can go try and look for another fun in another place from another person. If you don't play their game, you will end up being the ball instead of the player. You can stick to your principles and enjoy yourself being tackled and or kicked around the field. Or you can play their game and forget who you are and your root and history.

It is another side of the planet. They have different rules. It is the place where you ought to eat or be eaten. It is the location to eat more than you can chew. You just have to ignore it if you choke. Ignore if your food is sending you to meet the skeleton with the scythe. You can still be a zombie and continue to eat delicious food! There is no end to fun. Fun is life. Fun is love.

Hail to capitalism!

On the Battlefield

What is wrong and what is right? Are there still any standard answers for this ultimate question? This is a battle. I am standing in the middle of the field with my weapons on my back. My lover is my greatest enemy. My enemy is my beloved lover. Just like Penthesilea and Achilles. In the end she killed him and ate his heart. Eventhough it meant that she also ate her own heart at the very moment. So she died when he died.

Inside Dreams

I feel like I am walking in my sleep. Or perhaps in someone else's sleep. It is very surreal here. The days are hot and fuzzy blue. The nights are dying cold but full of day's light. I don't know this city. I don't recognize my home, my room, my bed. Different. Unalike. They are aliens in my little world. A few times I caught myself trying to wake up and get out from this particular scene in order to find something I am familiar with. This turbulence of dreams are holding me a prisoner. In the dream of dreams I am drifting like fog above grass, moving slowly, taking my time to put my marks on many corners: "This is my territory!", I'd say. What is surreal could perhaps be sur(e)real.

A Box Full of Future

I want to risk it all and be like Pandora. I guess it is engraved in our female blood, ever since it began to rush inside us. I need to look inside the wonderful chest of father time Zeus gave me. What is inside? What is hidden inside? Apathy is something unfamiliar for me.

I am a magpie, who can not resist the temptation of glittering jewels.

Ruin Dance

Another unfinished world has tumbled down. It was a kingdom of folded cards, which was wrecked because of a slight breath of wind. Still she smiled and laughed at her disappointment and hysteria. He bolted his feelings inside his red glass jars. Surfacing just to take a bit of oxygen and beam to the frozen water in the air. It ended. She ended it. They ended. Going to a new untamed territory is a reluctant decision. In the meantime they prefer to go on dancing on the old new ruins; trying to enjoy and scrape the taste of the meal they could have had together. Outside the fence I look inside of the unfinished world that has tumbled down.

as fireflowers bloom

Today I witnessed a big party over the town. The sky was burned with many colors, like splashes of tints on a dark blue canvas. The fireflowers blasted off, exploded, rained down: lending a little feast for hungry lonely eyes. People were there, friends were there, I was inside happiness. Everybody and everything cheered. Somehow I feel like the dark blue canvas, but separated from those splashes of cheering tints. There is another party of dark canvasses inside me.

Processing

I am learning to walk on fire without getting my feet burned,
I am learning to eat shreds of glass without making my mouth bleed,
I am learning to look at a sun eclipse without getting my eyes blinded.
All there is to life and to live. I am learning.

Battered

Has it reapproached ? Has it come anew? Am I still capable of those give and take games? Have I not yet been crippled?

I changed my shape. Now I long to go back into the old me, for I have a new vessel now. A place to pour my rainbows down, to dip my soul to rest. But somehow I can not reach my old state yet. Somewhere in my old path I lost something meaningful, which I dread to save. If I can be the mahadevi again, if he can turn me into his energy, if we can mould ourselves into one subsistence.

My resistance. My rocket. My safety net.

The Arrival

Lo and behold!
Here comes my savior!

Galloping on the last unicorn, singing the song of the unknown land I have been desiring. His hair is as black as cold coals down inside the earth with streaks of golden aurora of the north pole. His smile is more blinding than the brightest sun burning over the african deserts. His eyes are falcons combing the land from above. Bewitching the very land where I stand, blowing a sweet scented breeze, blooming little white flowers on the ground between my feet. In grace he comes, spreading ripples of gentleness towards the sad and frightened trees.

He has found me.

step one

It is so very easy to be evil.
The root has been residing there since before the dawn has cracked. Sometimes you just do things without wanting. But still responsibilty is something you can't deny from you. Do you have to be evil to be able to keep on going with life? Because it is so very easy to be evil.

Explosion

Today I broke down. I tried to hold up the water inside my dam the whole time. But the pressure was just too forceful for my weakening strength; for the sky has been vomiting its bowels ever since his last new strokes. It was just too much for my basin, it was too hot for my snow barrier. I melted, it bursted out.

Transformers

I watch his words gliding to where I stand like a glistening serpent searching its way through uncountable barriers. Eerie it is, observing those beings changing shapes and shades gradually. What was blue can turn itself to yellow, what was big can turn into the tiniest element ever. What kind of magic takes place here I know not, yet constant quiver rules me, like lays of earth sometimes shudder when they clash on one another.

That they are carnivorous is not a new lesson. So I wonder, if I am going to throw myself back into their pit once again. Letting them fill my belly with sweets before all of a sudden slashing my flesh into little pieces, devouring them like hungry hyenas. Are they becoming my little gods that I am willing to offer myself on their behalf ?

Returned Order

In the yellow sky there are blue scattered thoughts of him.

Little dusts simmer whirling together shaping cotton candy fogs and clouds. Twinkling dots are the archer of the south; who is waiting patiently aiming to Apollo's charriot. If he could be shot down and tied up inside fogs and clouds for a while, perhaps there would be enough time for Gaia to return the long missed order in her chaotic bosom.

Then there would be no longer scattered thoughts of him in the yellow sky.

drip

A vast white tundra in my shelves. It's crowded yet it's also empty. It sprouts more than the speed of light, cramming and depriving at the same time. Very white and pure black. Beginning and end. Courage and fear. Holiness and sin. A vast white tundra clogging my drainage. It's jammed and starts leaking...
I am leaking a vast white tundra to the floor.

They are me

I rise up to the smell of hot coffee in the morning
I jump in glee seeing my long lost friend coming towards me
I hide myself behind a cupboard, afraid of my mother when I get bad grade in school
I have to hush up my tummy when I see chocolate-banana-pancakes in the cafeteria
I start to sing along when I hear my favorite song on the radio
and sing la la la when I forget the text
I panic when I don't finish my test on time and the teacher's already waiting
for me right next to where I sit
I frown when I cook for my father and he twitches his face while gulping his first bite telling me
how good it tastes
I pull up my blanket to cover my face when the morning sunshine tries to wake
me up too early
I cry when I fall down and get a bleeding knee
I laugh out loud when watching The Three Stooges

O how delightful it is being common

Keep Busy Don't Look Back Program

A friend of mine introduced me to a program for brokenhearted people. Perhaps it sounds silly at first, but if you're giving it a second (or third, or maybe also fourth...) thought, it is thousand miles away from where silliness dwells. She calls it "The Keep Busy Don't Look Back Program". I guess we don't need further explanations as to extract the hidden meaning from this extremely complicated concept.

She tried to recruit me as a member in this self help group of hers. The great thing about joining the group is that, you are not attached to it. You just have to get on with your life, be yourself and dump your horrible past. Even she --the founder and self pronounced leader of the group-- has forgotten why and how she started this program on the first place. You see how excellent it is.... She is so very busy that she doesn't have time to look back and already forgot her terrible broken heart and her brokenhearted people's club.... Or is it merely partial amnesia?

Well anyway, it's high time for me to take my wand out and cry, "cor reparo!"

Enchantment

O, Hail to guardian of the tower of the south!
I invoke thee!

Advance towards my shivering core
grant me thy dominion
to conquer the unconquered
defeat the undefeated

Hail to the guardian of the tower of the south!
I invoke thee!

Resemblances

Fire

Keeps you warm in cold nights. You can read your favorite treasury of love poems ("I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach...") and smile to the dancing yellow covering you closely with its comforting warmth. You can lay yourself on the rug looking at your shadow on the ceiling; at the way it moves playfully joking with the tune of Puck's flickering melodies. You can throw a glance outside the window, watching and eavesdropping the rain making love to the damp earth while sipping your second cup of hot china tea.

Fire

burns you in the flame of passion. Its kisses tingle every nooks and crannies of your hand-crafted body. It introduces you to the world of blazing skies, where every hue glows radiantly together with clouds and stars; pacing with great speed, jumping, frolicking with your willful desire. It blasts you off so high so that you burst out to tears exulting the glory of your love.

Fire

annihilates you into a heap of cold cinder. Grace is something it's not familiar with. It won't stop ravaging until it has gotten your roots and seed in its inflaming cussedness..., until it is sure that you're entirely nullified, scourged, plundered; into just a heap of cold cinder.


Speaking of fire.

Unfit

Look at them displaying their smiles!

Exhibition of happiness takes place in the very picture, embedded by the green harmony of the nodding trees. Doubts don't have the slightest chance to take shape in its impending occurence; not in this image. Frown would be a disgrace to the sunny day, tear would ruin the tuneful melody of the exuberant colors of nature. They don't fit in. Don't fit.

So brace yourself up! Take control!
The lights are on, the blowers are on place, the camera is ready. There is no left space for imperfect emotions. Let them be e-motions caught in a bi-dimensional painting, freezed up in a frame from the same dimesion.

No place for flaws; so cut the erose leaf and put it away!

Inside and Out

My goodness gracious! Ugh... It is when your blood whirls swiftly to the brain, like lightning bolt racing with thunder to the earth; making you shudder because of the sudden cold that stings every single hair grows on your body. Ugh! Some kind of nausea blots the safeguard of your stomach, giving the taste of raw salty sea mollusk in the mouth of your throat. You just don't know if you have to stand up and talk or stay underground wincing making grimaces to communicate to goblins in their subway tunnels. Ugh....

A friend is a relief, more friends are a rejoice!

A kiss and an embrace are just not good enough to utter your bliss!

Your toilet is waiting. You're just so glad you can eventually go inside and discard your waste overkill out.

Ahhh....

A Mistake?

trust
Giving someone a second chance when there is actually not any available
trust
Laying down your arms short after a truce
trust
Believing the good will and nature of a person regadless of his crimes
trust

Because:
I love you still I regret my stupidity I need your love
I have learned so much from my mistakes I realize the big worth of your love
I love you more than before
I would never do you wrong anymore I would be at your side
There is nothing going on anymore between me and her
I don't want to see her again and I don't want to have her in this city ever again
I did not love her I just loved the image of her she treated me cruel It was a dream turned into a nightmare
I know how you are I am accepting every condition you have got
I know now that you are the one for me please give me the second chance and I will show you that this time I mean it for real
I am going to give my best to do everything right
now there is only you in my heart and nothing can change that and this time it is for always
I am different now

But then:

You can't compell someone to give you his heart
Now I know why she did that, I can understand her better and thus I love her more
There are so many things in common between me and her
everybody deserves a second chance
I don't know what I want I am so empty I am lost in my life
I love her still I feel sorry for her
I want to offer her my friendship
I think I will give her an overnight stay at my place; oh, no! You can't come here during her visit
I can not tell her that I have chosen you I don't want to hurt her
I don't want to hurt you
I love you both
If I can I want to marry both of you
why can't you understand me? You are becoming a cruel person now
save your sarcasm for yourself! I want to think everything over
I don't know if I love you I have to decide what's best for me
I choose you my brain says to choose you my heart tells me to have her
can we stop talking about this? I am tired of it!
I am different now


What do you know about trust?

The Run

Back to the start line again. The last run was annuled because of his disloyalty to the team. He went away and left me alone standing on the racetrack struck dumbfounded. But now he has come back to me once more with face looking down; regretting his blunder, deploring the absence of my existence. Despite of the loud objections from the jury I opened my arms to hear his pleas and accept his apologies. Yet forgiving is easier than forgetting, because I can still feel how my open wounds bled. The hurt sways like pendulum swinging in a regular interval, providing doubt with materials in order to thicken its walls around me. Nevertheless, the decision to revert has been reached, eventhough it has not been publicly announced. Preparation has to be made: remedies to heal injuries, cool spring water to quench thirst, music to sooth pain, attention to break down doubtwalls.

Words of forgiveness have been said; a new beginning has been agreed. So now I have to be consistent: hold on to what was spoken. So now I have to be fair: give him the chance to redeem. Obsolete hurts have to be forgotten, retaliation has to be wiped away. Back I am to the start line, my hand in his, waiting to hear the cry of "ready, get set, go!"

Lily of the Valley

Unison of peace in mind and heart. Purity, tranquility, humility.

The Dictator

I do not know what I am doing. I just did what my heart told me to. Most of the time it would only hurt myself, but still I am very much under its control. I have no idea where this little beating lump get its neverending power. Precisely at the moment when I thought it was at its weakest, it grew stronger, very much stronger than I can ever imagine it could be. I tried to overpower it. But instead of having it at my feet, I am following it on my bended knees.

Glass Bridge

He mentioned about our glass bridge. The bridge that brought us together as a couple, that held our love intact the whole time. He brought up his will of rebuilding that connection once again. Doesn't he realize it was not just the glass bridge that was torn down, fractured into sharp little splinters? It was also me. I was there on the bridge holding on tight to what I still could hold on to, eventhough he was no longer there.

Up there was I. Up when I should have run down and save myself before it shattered. Now that it has, I am at the moment occupied in taking care of my wounds, healing them with the herbs of father time. I do not have the needed strength to hold the bridge together again, nor to glue the colorful fractions into one; not anymore. I am drained, dehydrated. He sucked everything that was in me. I am using my final strength and last breath only for my own well being. Only.

We were two people brought together by a glass bridge. You should have spoken softly, trodden lightly.

. . . .

I woke up this morning looking up to the sky on the horizon. Secluded in a box of nothingness grinning to the black clouds that crawled spreading their greyness to the constant light blue. The light that was white, that was warm, that was kind; that was blinding, that was burning, that was menacing. The blue that was airy, that was cool, that was gentle; that was hard, that was all that.

I am wrapped up inside the grey, thinking that it is okay. But it is somehow too hollow here, too frozen. . . .

My Sickness

I thought I was sick. I panicked. I thought I was abnormal. I thought I was just a useless microbe with no life at all--considering my usual symbiosis had ditched me. So I thought, being a microbe I would not be able to continue living without him. He was my little world, he was my source of energy, he was my food supply. It is logical if I thought I would immediately die without that essential synergy; a very illogical point of view.

I was nearly dead, not because I did not possess any strength, but because I believe I would die. He stabbed me a few times, let myself bled, but then came to me and tried to hold me and heal my wounds; just to stab me more afterwards. I was so sure I would die. I was sure I was dead. But then I realized that I was still breathing, I could still see how he danced away to his so called soul mate, eventhough my lungs were clogged, my eyes were almost blind and my heart was crushed. I felt, I saw... and the wonder of it all is: I survived

I thought I was sick. But now I know I was not. I was just deeply in love. Deeply hurt.

Lovesick

From This Moment On--Shania Twain

(I do swear that I'll always be there. I'd give anything
and everything and I will always care. Through weakness
and strength, happiness and sorrow, for better, for worse,
I will love you with every beat of my heart.)

From this moment life has begun
From this moment you are the one
Right beside you is where I belong
From this moment on

From this moment I have been blessed
I live only for your happiness
And for your love I'd give my last breath
From this moment on

I give my hand to you with all my heart
Can't wait to live my life with you, can't wait to start
You and I will never be apart
My dreams came true because of you

From this moment as long as I live
I will love you, I promise you this
There is nothing I wouldn't give
From this moment on

You're the reason I believe in love
And you're the answer to my prayers from up above
All we need is just the two of us
My dreams came true because of you

From this moment as long as I live
I will love you, I promise you this
There is nothing I wouldn't give
From this moment
I will love you as long as I live
From this moment on
Analysis:
Too much Fantasizing, obsessed, loving the partner too much, giving up themselves to the other, identifying themselves with the other. Conclusion: Sick.


Everything I Do I Do It for You-- Bryan Adams

Look into my eyes - you will see
What you mean to me
Search your heart - search your soul
And when you find me there you'll search no more

Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for
You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for
You know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you

Look into your heart - you will find
There's nothin' there to hide
Take me as I am - take my life
I would give it all - I would sacrifice

Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for
I can't help it - there's nothin' I want more
Ya know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you

There's no love - like your love
And no other - could give more love
There's nowhere - unless you're there
All the time - all the way

Oh - you can't tell me it's not worth tryin' for
I can't help it - there's nothin' I want more
I would fight for you - I'd lie for you
Walk the wire for you - ya I'd die for you

Ya know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you

SICK TOO

I'm Too Me

Pathetic is maybe the most correct word for my condition right now. I tried to convince myself that I will get over him this time (I have been telling myself the same scenario since three weeks ago). I wrote encouragements for myself over and over again. Thousands of parchments are already used and written with all of anger and hurt and blame and guilt and the will to revenge, forgive and heal at the same time. But still, his promises are making me tied up on the spot. Like a baby in the dark mother's womb entangled by its umbilical cord, suffocated, but can not get out eventhough its time has rippened. Would I die inside my mother's cave or outside?

Here I go again feeling sorry for myself. Thinking writing saying telling asking about my death. I guess it's far from the literal one. I am too much a coward to end my life, and I actually still have a slight wish of seeing hope once again. In search for that little winged fairy, I analyzed every sheet of self-help book I could stumble upon. I see every single illness symptoms in me. My worries grow like an ancient baobab, stabbing through my dignities with its fear-sharpened trunks.

Too much love should be my illness, obsessive love is another of my many diagnoses. "Why Women Love Too Much" said my symptoms are almost acute. I am giving up myself and beginning identifying myself with him. I don't have any self-identity anymore. My happiness and sorrow are defined by his. According to many love-websites I am an obsessed lover because I just can't get over him. I am trying to be in control of my relationship. I want to change my partner the way I want him to be and believing that I am --that way-- helping him. However this is supposed to be just from my point of view. He doesn't feel comfortable treated like that, and he will by and by drift away from me. So my love drove him away, which was by the way the exact sentence he told me on one fine day.

I have to change my thinking. I have to be more self centered. I have to concentrate on my own well being. So no more I want to be with you in every waking moment. No more I want to hold you from the back while you are sleeping. No longer missing you every one absent hour. No longer weeping everytime you went away without kissing me good bye. I have got to be able to focus on me. Be egoistic, be on track, be practical, be mathematical, be logical, be cool, be mean! In other words: I must stop being me!

Going to

I am going to make him fall for me again!

and then he has to cry blood because of neglecting me. He has to be thrown to the dump for all the aches he gave me; the aches that he wrapped so very pretty in a beautiful big box; which I opened and devour with a hundred percent curiosity and happiness and trust. He has to experience the same pain from the same blades he swung to me thousands of times. He has to bear the equivalent fear and anger and rain and storm and heat and cold that are attacking his fortress altogether and eat its ruins and soil underneath. He has to see me in the eye and tremble from top to toe regretting his wrongdoings; trembling just like I trembled hearing the news of his turning point to his future past; trembling like a mountain trembles when its guts go hot and erupt like an insane glowing tsunami, jolting to the ruby red skies ripping and torning and devastating. Leaving nothing but a blunt numbness he has to feel.

I was the mother goddes, who loved and gave and kissed and hugged and caressed. I grew grasses and trees; blew life to the breath of the humming bees and the enchanted owls. My affection spreaded like butter on a hot toasted bread, like water flooding a jug. I was plain; I was true; I was compassionate; I was mild. I was that: weak.

Tears are transforming to steel, aches are changing to rage. I am no longer the old me.

A Proclamation

Because he proclaimed he was mine, he promised not just one life time, swore of the strength of our bond--since he talked me into enduring him, he stuffed his love into my holes, rampaged his rush into my slow paced world--for the reason that he made me vulnerable again, I am standing firm holding on to all what he had forced into me.

Like a balloon tied onto a big stone, I can only dance in one spot eventhough I yearn for another atmosphere. For I need to reach another meadow and pluck more daisies and count their petals to discover if he loves me or he loves me not. But when the rage comes, I just feel how my arms grow more driven by Kali's wrath. Then there can only be one thing that occupies my mind: WAR!

With Kali's wrath, Gaia's ploy, and the amazone wariors' skills I know I will win.

Death of the Summer

roll roll roll roll BAM! Grey and twilight and blur and numbness and pain and cold wind came, and stay---Poisoning the womb of the spring, killing the summer before her birth.

What If

How would you feel if the one you love told you that he actually wished, that he wanted someone who were not you, that you were just not good enough for his expectations, that he wished you would do things you have done differently, that his friends were better than you and that they were closer to his anticipations...

What would you do if you were told that you were not really wanted, that you were just not good enough, that you should've done things you've done differently, that there were close-to-perfect people around, but they were not you.

What if your fears were real, if the fear itself emerged in words, if those very familiar fears, which had been haunting you, uncovered itself before your eyes. What if those fears dwellt in your beloved one and now he showed you these in his glass heart?

What would you do, how would you feel?
Don't ask me, because these what ifs have got nothing to do with me.

Snow on a Sunny Day

It's February. The sun is shining brightly hugging earth with her warmth. I thought it would be a fabulous day to go out and at last enjoy a little bit taste of May. But as I stepped outside my door, I set foot to a thick layer of snow outside..it was beginning to snow like crazy. Even crazier than in December days, when it was supposed to be cold and covered with sugar powdery snow.
Now I am sitting here inside my workplace looking at the streets outside...The sun has come out again, now that she has won her battle. I keep on wondering why winter won't let go of her influence when it is supposed to be over. I guess she is trying to prolong her reign because of the nice taste of power. Three months of cold, ice, and snow is no longer enough for her greedy self no more. Despite of the loud protests of the people wishing for the next lord of weather, she keeps on strugling to deepen her claws over this side of the earth.

Today is the witness of this battle between the old reigning power and the new opposition, because it's been snowing on this sunny day.

clogged

real clogged.

Why should everyone be very obnoxious today?
I can't stand the customers who are coming here. I can't stand the way they talk to me, I can't stand the way they laugh, I can't stand the way they accuse me as a chinese woman, I can't stand the way they don't know anything about computer and internet but still somehow play Mr. I-actually-know-how-it-goes-but-now-I-am-the-king-and-you-have-got-to-do-this-child's-play or This-should-be-a-piece-of-cake-your-goddamn-computer-must-be-broken towards me.

I despise the way they come in in large numbers and go in and out the telephone booths as if the shop belong to their grandfather. I despise the way they just go to the exit without paying first and then act as if they were just strucked by lightning on the head and had amnesia after I call them to get their asses back here and pay for the god forsaken bills.

And in the end, I hate myself for taking such a long time finishing this hate-list, so now I can't remember anymore why I am so very much clogged right now!

Inulitas

Clogged. 1st report.

I have just read some articles about the dangdut diva Indonesia: Inul. She has gained national popularity in just months of time. And not just that...the international world is also turning its head towards her. With her 'grinding' dance she swept other competitors in this area of business (well at least in indonesia). It's amazing really, what women can achieve with her body!

Just several days a go I read about the famous exotic dancer from the second world war, Mata Hari. She is just so famous and everyone knows who she was, even if they aren't very acquainted with her story. She might be the very first international erotic dancer in the whole world. No body at that time dared to expose their body in front of a band of men. And also, her one and only dance made her way through out european military world. Nowadays striptease dance is nothing new anymore. One can get a fortune if she knows how to manage her gigs and make a good advertisement for herself.

All of these brings me to the thought of feminism and gender problems. Sometimes I find it really sad that women have to reveal ourselves like that to nail men's interest and get them to grope right into their pockets. It is as if women are nothing more than just entertaining objects to satisfy men's lust. Men make us do things we perhaps would never ever think of doing if they weren't so powerfull and moneyfull.

These thoughts occupied my mind for quite some time. But then I tried to bend the idea, and imagine what it would be like, if the situation were the other way around. What if when women had all the access to power and money. (Well let's face it.., we women are not (yet!) that far in comparison with men) What if men were living in a women's world..Would there also be Inul and Mata Hari in the form of men? I can imagine seeing myself in a crowd of women, my eyes feasting with the sight of handsome men stripteasing....So I guess it is not an impossible thing to happen. Then there would perhaps be men, which were considering these things in the area of masculism and as one of the gender problems.