The Witch of La La Land

Rip. Tear. Kill

2009-02-19T00:13:00.000-08:00

This has to stop. I cant allow myself this madness. I cant subject myself to this. All I want is the courage to hold that sharp knife to my wrist and slice it deep.

I just want to detach myself from the rest of the world for a long time. I need to peace out and leave everything, material and person far far away from me. I hate the way I have been living. I wish I were a slate that can be wiped clean. I wish I could tear my face apart into tiny pieces and throw it out into the wind. I want to dig my fingernails into my skin and scream in agony of that pain. I want that pain to leave me. Please go away.

I want to rip open my back and let the pain ooze out into the hot desert sand. I want to scream and scream until there is no voice left in me. I want to butcher my brains and pour liqour on it for it deserves nothing better. I want to stamp out the breath from my self conscience for being such a weak link to sanity.

I need a release now. or a pistol. Either would do.

Please stop the pain.

A song inspired...

2008-05-24T01:47:00.001-07:00

My step brother was the apple of my eye. He was 17 years younger than I was and I loved him like my own. I had always thanked god for every single moment that I spent with him, for those times where the best times of my life. I had always wanted someone who could be mine and mine alone. And then he came. I was the first person to hold him outside the labor room. He slept for most of the time when he was a baby. I would keep looking at his face. He was a scrawny boy and he still is. Just a little taller than my knee, at four years his baby brother looks bigger than him. The one thing that had always worried me about him is that he was so pale. So thin; and had so many dark circles around his eyes.

I taught him a song one day. My rustic guitar skills and my tone less voice could never match together. So I taught him the song that I loved the most

Somewhere over the rainbow
There s a land I’ve heard of, once in a lullaby
Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true
Some day I wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where trouble melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That’s where you’ll find me

Some where over the rainbow
Blue birds fly
Birds fly over the rainbow
Why, then oh why cant I?

If happy little blue birds fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why cant I?

He would sing it like a lark. But the quality of his voice was so beautiful. His voice wavered with every word. There was an endearing stretch to the entire song. Hearing him sing is the most peaceful thing in the world. Standing over his grave today, I can still feel him sitting by my side, his hands on my knees, looking into my eye as I play the chords. The whole while he sings, his voice wavered, not his eyes. He will just look directly into my eyes with those liquid brown irises. My heart was torn out when he died due to a severe asthma attack. But when I stay beside his epitaph, that’s when my heart soothes the most. His epitaph reads what I think is befitting him the most

“At last, he flew over the rainbow”

In the end, I want to believe he did. He did go to the place beyond the rainbow. And I hope his dreams did come true. I know mine will.

I am...

2008-04-26T02:10:00.000-07:00

I'd rather be a could-be if I cannot be an are;
because a could-be is a maybe who is reaching for a star.
I'd rather be a has-been than a might-have-been, by far;
for a might have-been has never been, but a has was once an are.

Stupid world of the Dead

2008-01-16T22:01:00.002-08:00

dead dog
dead fish
dead meat
thats all we are

dead mind
dead heart
no soul
thats what i am

dead songs
dead memories
dead hurt
dead world

dead thoughts
dead towns
dead minds
dead pathos

dead fire
dead wood
dead animal a worn mat
dead fruit a plant misses you

dead frog
virus alive
dead monkey
dead me

dead world
dead god
dead us
dead dead.

The Stupid game of dont's

2008-01-16T22:01:00.001-08:00

dont touch deep inside
dont touch where it hurts
dont touch and bring it back.
dont touch and let live.

dont touch this
dont let it become part of you
dont touch the wet earth
dont let earth touch you

dont move slow
dont move him
dont think her
dont worry it

dont touch and fly
dont stay and bury
dont move and cry
dont be and become.

dont ever read thoughts
dont let thoughts read through you
dont mind that
that wont mind you.

Stupid Decisions

2008-01-16T22:01:00.000-08:00

thinking dreams may come alive.
that was the mistake i made.
i never accepted what life was as it is.
but invented one as my own.

treading softly so no one would hear.
a somniambulent soul who knows no path
world sleeps on as time goes by.
i stand , i watch , and laugh at the irony of life.

shaken, stricken, driven by insanity
rising , falling with no road in sight
the only thing that moves like a broken record in my mind
is the thought of cutting a blade grass with a knife

the brook murmurs, draining life of its color.
painting the color of dark in the tip of me.
covering the vision of the mocking seer, the blue black veil.
still laughing at life's irony am I.

ah still one more problem isnt there?
the vision blurs slowly
slowly
and fades away.
only the distant echo of the riotious jeer echos on and on.

Bon Voyage to me

2007-12-29T01:19:00.000-08:00

I am not keen on dying
I watch the ship coming home
there's more fun when you're alone
just when everything got going

The coin can swing either way
not that I really care
I came to make a difference
and I leave without any

Feel, come home tonight
leave on morrow's sail
come home tonight
one last kiss goodbye.

I still wait, anchors aweigh
I hope there is still a reason
But I see none
so this letter says goodbye, goodbye for good.

Heart, I wanted you home
I am to leave at this wind
But home's empty
and no last kiss for me.

So long, this is the last of me
Hope you move on, life awaits
next time be early home
someone needed that last goodbye today.

2007-10-31T06:49:00.001-07:00

she is nothing.

the walk back was as similar as the back of her hand that she sees when scrubbing the dishes. nothing new, the same old twists and curves. the sky is pregnant and waits for the water to break.

she is moving.

the journey forward was neither contemplative or anger. it was blank. the sharpening of the blade bade her closer than the squawk of the hen that was destined for it. if only it were that easy then the most painful of decisions would never have to be thought of.

betrayal.

never. for what comes to you has been brought on by you. then why is it still prickly in the gut. why is it still hard to absorb.

faith.

that which you lose as you grow closer and closer to that which you believe in

lust

a poor mind's companion , a rich one's nemesis.

work

evasion and beyond

when most of the path has been traverses, she sees a flattened corpse of a rat. she stops to examine it. looking closer it resembles more a vermin that in life. perhaps that reminds her of something.

she saw a crematorium while reaching the road. men in casual manner resting their legs on the platform whereas the body which was to be there lay still in the ambulance. the whole nonchalance of it does not astonish her, in fact she seems to understand.

once the soul leaves the body is but a reference. reverence ends with life.

she has to cross a strip of land. the two roosters, proud and black, stare down the wall. she wishes to see the raven that greeted her at morning and wring its neck, but then she realizes that she must pretend violence is of no good to anyone. she misses the buffalo and the joy that an expecting sky brings.

she ends her journey, the feet are cracked, blood stains her strappings but the pain is just a welcome relief .

when a tree is of no necessity, it is removed and space is used.
when a water body is of no use, it is filled and reborn a land
when a horse is of no use, it is put to sleep and the vacant stable is called by another home.

she is still a nothing.

Au Pair

2007-07-13T01:31:00.000-07:00

Death is one,

Vanity another

Together they go hand in hand,

Death smiles as vanity blushes,

he tried and she was satisfied.

vanity thinks of the flowers to adorn her,

death pats himself on the back

it was easy like the spider and the fly,

when the air rushed forth to her beaten face,

vanity soared to the airs

and death held out his arms open wide.

Think

2007-06-23T09:33:00.001-07:00

Pleasure sought is most attained in mutual symbiotism than indulgent me - ism...

Soothsayer II

2007-06-18T00:03:00.002-07:00

When all hope is lost, accept reality than fantazise what may have been.

Rumors are ways to preserve a person's memory...each time it gets exaggerated someone's lyrics is added to another's history

Beauty as a phonetic sound : the lark's song, a womans smile, a man's wince and a baby's sigh.

Better to shed tears on your own, soughting a hand to wipe it will only create another crack in the dam

Soothsayer

2007-06-18T00:03:00.000-07:00

Most of the people who wish to do something with their life and who merely sit there wishing to do something shall in reality not amount to anything.

When death is imminent a lot of thinking is in progress. We think whether we have left behind something for people to remember. We think whether tears will flow even after many years for us. We worry over the talks that shall follow once we leave this world... whether there is truth in any of it and if not who will stand up to talk against it. That’s why they say speak no ill of the dead…why unnecessarily turn them in their graves?

When a person is to marry they shall marry only into the physical realm. For the tryst of two souls shall not be bound be laws that are merely passed on from one generation to another. They are held together by sources that are infinite and cannot be put down in words. The souls need not meet for them to be one…if left free they shall find one another even in the most absurd of realities.

Thought frees a man but imprisons a woman.