گریه

صدای پرواز بالهایم را

سکوت تیره ی باران گرفت

و کبوترها گم شدند در مرواریدهای سیاه

فراتر از چشم ماه و چشم زهره

اندر خم کوچه ی دور از هم زبانان

نفس هایم گم شدند و فردایم ناپدید شد

شاید روزی دیگر سر از نهان زند

این آرمیده ی بی سخن بی نشان

در ظلمت بسی سپیدیست، گهی در شب

در کنار گوشه ی نگاهم زمزمه ی طلوع میکند

از زیر کرسی گرم و ابرهای ابریشمی

گاهی مهتاب بدون فریاد صدا میکند

در حیاط خانه ای بی حیاط

در صفای خانه ای بی صفا

پشت اخمها و لبخند های آفت دار

شاید اشکی و دو از روح روان شود به شیار جوی آب کوچه

تخت طاووس و شکوفه را فراموش کرده ام

شاید که فردایم ز دیروز پر شود

رنگها را رویت و نور را لمس میکنم

...و میدانم بدون قرمز، آبی گریه خواهد کرد

No Best-of lists this year

oh well. -______-

Duh!

God Doesn't fuck us. He doesn't really need to.

He just hands us the Dildo and lets us do it to ourselves.

And then he watches and records it for further viewing pleasure.

God probably runs a Porno industry.

Wonder who he sells the goods to though... hmm... other gods?

The milky way probably came to existence when he ran out of napkins while watching the stuff.

>_>

We are the afflicted

The Fallen

And the Wounded.

We are born into seperateness.

suffering.

and eternal longing.

our salvation lies not in the things of this world

but that is where we seek it.

for to do otherwise would tank the economy,

and then we'd be really screwed.

Of Erections...

Omg. I haven't gotten horny for about 2 weeks now! I think I've blown a fuse or something.

Or Maybe I'm dying.

Or Maybe I have testicular cancer.

WAKE UP GOD DAMN YOU! WAKE UP! *Khdish!* *Khdish!*

Dude... seriously.

Well...

Look at this world. It's a fucked up mess. Children hating parents, parents hating each other, Sisters hating brothers, brothers hating sisters, husbands hating wives, wives hating husbands, everybody scattering around like a bunch of flies.

What the fuck.

What happened to the simple times? When there was a thing called family? Spending warm nights at home talking to your family in front of the TV or just plain sharing a show together. laughing together, feeling together.

I've never had much of those even in my earlier days of childhood. But I still remember my family having certain bonds and ties which never seemed to brake. Not then, and not in the future. But somehow so many of them have. It's a wasteland now. It's everybody's fault.

I'm sorry to say that things really don't get better. Once you sever a synapse, you pretty much better forget about putting it back together. And this is a whole house of cards crumbled to the ground.

What does the future hold? god knows. I'd be lying if I said I'm not scared. because I am. But you never know what lies at the end of a corner. A whole new era awaits. It may be a little more gray and bitter, but hey... life's a bitch and if there's one thing that living in this shit new world teaches us all, is that the only thing we can do is cope and keep up the hope.

Or whatever's left of it anyway.

Leonard's Night

Here's a little something I dug up from an old file. Wow. I had forgotten all about it. I remember this being a little story I wanted to put on my "2tadige" blog. But I thought nobody would either care or understand it because my posts mostly served as filler material until His Majesty "Lohrasp", the king of all pimps posted something. :-L

Leonard sat alone in his dim-lighted room. The florescent kiss of the moonlight lamp was hugging the air around him. Everything looked much paler and bluer than normal. Especially the six-shooter in Leonard's left hand. The wooden chair he was sitting on squeaked like a sick little rat trying to gnaw its own heart out. He thought how comical it would be if the chair broke from underneath him and let him fall to the ground with a big Thump. It never happened. He might have forgotten his motives if it had. but it didn't.

His breath was constant and mechanical. He felt thirsty. like there was weed growing in his throat and they needed water. He swallowed with pain but the spit wouldn't even reach beyond the end of his tongue. The ringing in his head was getting louder by the minute. He had to do this if he was sure about it. He wasn't sure about it. He thought he was the morning he woke up and loaded the gun with the bullets he had hidden under his mattress. He knew his target. He knew how to use the gun. He knew he had a responsibility to end what he had the power to end. But his finger wouldn't budge. As if it were cut off by volunteering itself.

He didn't move. the chair still squeaked underneath him. He didn't hear the ring anymore. He dropped the pistol and buried his aching head inside the palm of his sweaty hands and whispered to himself something about streams and waterfalls. He remembered a quick cut of a dream he had the last night. It was about these magic glasses that would enable him to grow wings and fly whenever he wore them. Or something like that. It was beautiful. He was sure it was the most beautiful dream he had ever had in his whole life.

Leonard got up from the chair and walked to the kitchen sink. Turned on the tap and buried his face inside the stream of pouring water. He felt the water rub away on his face and he felt his face go numb as the water got colder and colder. And then he imagined he's flying high up in the air. wearing his magic glasses.

Flying like an eagle in the innocent glory of the bright blue early morning sky. far away from the noise. far away from the world he grew in. far away from the pains and miseries of being a human living amongst other human beings.

It was beautiful. But he didn't forget to take his pistol with him.

Just in case.