Sunday, May 25, 2014

Mono

I mean it feels so wrong to me to even wear clothes with vibrant colors.

It must be black or white or grey.

Those colors explain me well.

love me or hate me

the dilemma begins when one of your friend starts talking about her ex-girlfriend, who oh-such-a-coincidence happens to be your friend also.

Then she gradually reveals a fact that back when they were dating, they were often discussing about common friends they had in the circle, and you not so surprisingly was also featured in those conversations.

The train then goes rocket to the peak in which those little pep talks are in fact not so ingenious. They were talking bad behind your back, dude, accept that.

So the only question remains here is if you want to know what things... how bad they think about you.

1. You know: yes, isn't it so normal that you have already constantly thought bad about yourself. Is it possible that there is anything worse about you that you don't know yet. The self - insulting starts from here.

2. You don't know: it will be a secret only they know. You could live your life happy ever after from now on.

Friday, May 16, 2014

I am - John Clare

I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest--that I loved the best--
Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil'd or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below--above the vaulted sky.

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Alone - Sara Teasdale



I am alone, in spite of love,
In spite of all I take and give --
In spite of all your tenderness,
Sometimes I am not glad to live.

I am alone, as though I stood
On the highest peak of the tired gray world,
About me only swirling snow,
Above me, endless space unfurled;

With earth hidden and heaven hidden,
And only my own spirit's pride
To keep me from the peace of those
Who are not lonely, having died.

Daffodils - William Wordsworth


 
wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

A dream within a dream - Edgar Allan Pollen

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
 
 
 
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?