“Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Never give up work. Work gives you meaning and purpose and life is empty without it. If you are lucky enough to find love, remember it is there and don’t throw it away.” ― Stephen Hawking
The Crossing Over
When from birth the swaddling of obscurity
Covers my face with the harsh reality of life
How will I discover my soul and carry
the torch of meaningful purpose to my progeny?
Left with only the struggles of faith and doubt
over what my life should be or have been.
Why do I live, why has God given me breath?
Why go at all into the void of the living?
Of what purpose can it be to drag my soul
through a thousands horrors only to be reborn?
Does it matter at all and why
when I breath for the last time?
And then He whispers,
“That you may know me,this is your purpose”
It’s a fact of life that we
become disenchanted by joy without pain
And barely fight to know someone or something
unless extinction threatens to take them or it away
“Instead of being presented with stereotypes by age, sex, color, class, or religion, children must have the opportunity to learn that within each range, some people are loathsome and some are delightful.” ― Margaret Mead
yuhimebarbara
For the longest time I’ve written and mused about the betrayal of friends and lovers until TD Jakes said something that altered my view from here on out, “They never betrayed you because they were never your friends”. My mistake is that I put people who were never my friends in a place of trust and honor and shared with them secrets and insights from my deepest thoughts, which things were turned against me in due time and used to degrade, insult, and hurt me. But the mistake wasn’t theirs, it was mine for misunderstanding that there are different kinds of people that need to be categorized into different kinds of relationships. I’ll use the animal kingdom for an example. A wolf may kill a buzzard without a thought, therefore the buzzard treats the wolf with caution and flees, they don’t “hang out” together. This doesn’t make the wolf irrelevant because the wolf will create opportunities and lead the buzzard to food. As long as the buzzard realizes the limits of the relationship and stays within those confines, it’ll be safe, but if it mistakes this provision of food for proof of safety from the wolf, he will die one day and that quite suddenly. The lesson is this: Firstly, I must filter people into the correct category. Secondly, I must keep them there and never change the arrangement because of my feelings.
Why did I make this mistake to begin with? Because loneliness, low self-esteem, and a myriad of other psychological crap that’s followed me from my childhood makes me hungry for approval and friendship, and when I’m hungry, I’ll eat anything. People I know are bad for me have crept in by familiarity and the whip of loneliness has driven me to them for company and comfort. Another reason for my mistake is my spirituality. Being of tender heart and convinced I must do good for others, I’ve put myself in close proximity to dangerous and unpredictable people and mistook my desire to show them the love of God as accepting them and showing them I trust them, allowing them to access to my soul’s secrets and confidence. Everyone’s seen a video where a guy jumps a fence or reaches through it to pet a wild animal. The results are usually catastrophic and the thought comes to mind immediately, “What the hell were they thinking?”. There are no fences in life unless we put them there and no signs warning us unless we write them. I’m upset at myself for having gone this long without understanding this principal, however it’s never to late to learn, so here’s a mighty shove to push everyone away from me while I reevaluate the relationship we share.
“…she has the ability to hide as expertly as a sock in a washing machine. No one knows where it goes, just as no one knows where she goes, but at least when she decides to come back, we’re all here, waiting for her.” – Cecelia Ahern
Breathing in and with each rasping dry inhale I’m missing you
It burns down to the hollow of my soul.
Memories they flood in, a confusing mix. I thought I missed just you,
but I miss the many that are a part of me.
Each having a part to play, each having a part in me,
each deserving of my attention.
What will I do with these feelings? I shouldn’t,
long after only you.
I should enjoy the many
that have become a part in my life.
How can I miss only you and leave out the others
who have a part to play?
I must move on, pay my respects, but in the end
I know you’re only a part.
There yet remains a whole to be built from my life,
a whole song, a whole book,
not just a verse, or a chapter.
In this moment, I’ll breath a painful breath that it may give me
a lesson from missing you.
Her name swirled in my mouth like hot chocolate on a winter’s day. If I took it too quick, it would burn in the fury of being rushed, so I breathed her in, slow and gentle, with little sips of desire and awe. She easily warmed my deepest parts, and very slowly, my chill changed to a spreading glow of warmth. The pins and needles of my deep freeze made her work an exhilarating passionate dance. Her touch needed no words as my mind filled with her tactile conversation and my replies, only soft tremors of appreciation. Closing my eyes, I lifted my head to the clear midnight sky, the stars seemed to stall their charge toward dawn to catch a glimpse of Sentient’s captive. My ears caught a hint of her hidden nakedness as I followed the breeze swirling its way through the tall pines then a tickle ran up my neck when she spun around to see me. Playing with me, the cool of the air countered the warmth of my body in a gentle tug of war, like puppies playing with a toy, first a gentle nudge, a pull, then a rougher jerk that foretold of things to come. She had all of me, a pleasure now, but soon, a curse for there are times when a man is better off to never feel again.
…there are times when a man is better off to never feel again…
“There is darkness inside all of us, though mine is more dangerous than most. Still, we all have it—that part of our soul that is irreparably damaged by the very trials and tribulations of life. We are what we are because of it, or perhaps in spite of it. Some use it as a shield to hide behind, others as an excuse to do unconscionable things. But, truly, the darkness is simply a piece of the whole, neither good nor evil unless you make it so.” ― Jenna Maclaine, Bound By Sin
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petitecem
Building my life on this fulcrum, everything I have hangs the precarious balance of needing you and needing to get away from you. Tainted is the air I breath and colored is the pain I have with the odorous stain of you. Pride bends low in wet mornings on foundation decks with those whose pain I’ve far surpassed. They’re hardened, unable to feel the pain anymore, as for me, I just got here, not so long ago, when the crucible of your hot irons scalded me into blind submission to you. I called my mother and asked her when the pain would stop, it’s been years since I’ve seen you. Yet, it’s like an hour ago I nursed the burns and savored the pleasure of you. Songs on the radio bring tears to my eyes, every sweet moment of tenderness I glimpse between lovers brings a knot to my throat, a wrenching in my gut, and a fresh trail of moist sorrow from my eyes that runs down my neck and seeps under my shirt. In the routine of living, where mourning was a stranger, are found new altars of sadness. Shaking from holding back the tears, the doctor says he can’t get the MRI to take a good picture. I’m partying with good friends, but I’m hollow, so I go outside for some fresh air and to shed more drops of missing you. They say, “Quit your whining. Jesus, everyone goes through shit!”, but you know, sometimes the shit just gets to be too much, too often, and too long. I’d not be the first strong one to break under the pressure of love gone wrong. I won’t break and to live isn’t hard, but to love you and love another is the tortuous path ahead of me and a balance I must achieve.