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This morning the date and time setting on my phone was completely wrong, the date was set to 1980 (Jan 15). The time was ahead by at least 23 minutes. For a moment I wished it really were so. I hoped that time had, during my hours of slumber, somehow slowed down. Things are moving too fast.

They say its normal to feel like this, I dont want to see or be seen. Friends and family phone, they seem so happy, I am faking interest in their lives today. I could not care, to be perfectly honest. I find myself holding my breathe and my shoulders are aching. Today I am on this planet a whole 30 years! Dertig blooming years. Can you get over that.

My step dad called and said: Jy moet terug kom na die meester toe! Terug. Because I left. They sound sorted out. I am happy they seem happy. Mbeki is out, found a grey pube, wonder what the mascot will look like. So many BIG things to worry about then then 30. Boom just like that. Want to crawl under a blanket and be fed jelly and custard until I explode. Tried to get drunk yesterday, some celebrity came and joined our table and I found myself having to speak to this (sexy) woman. The more we drank the more she told me. The owner of the establishment then came over and whispered he would give us drinks on the house if I gave her number to him...i told him to get stuffed! What is it with men in their early 30's.

 Woosh dude with the screamer girl is out of my life, thank dog, i deserve more. I demand more. I kissed and made up with moneky ball md...he apologised. So did I. My daughter is well. She is in CT, my heart is going to break that she has not been moaning after me - she is breaking my heart. But I have been invited to the Pilanesberg for Tuesday/Wednesday (massages, champaign, cheese, sunsets, books, books..well you know...) I said yes - i have driver picking me up tomorrow. Me alone in the penisberg...lol. Nice gift for a 30 year old. (wretch vomit....) A 30 year old, with one child, one absent baby daddy, one house. one flat, 1 car, 1 shrink doctor lawyer dentist hairstylist, 1 head and heart full of holes , 1 job, 8 paintings, hundreds of books and millions of thoughts each more difficult to bring to life than the other.  Yeah!

 

 

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You think were so different you and I

I say, were more alike than different more alike than you may think.

You believe in relationships, I dont. I believe in unconditional love you dont. Different sides of the same cynical coin.

You think your too bad to be loved, I think Im too broken. You try to avoid being loved, I embrase it cause I dont think it will last.  Different sides to the same loveless coin.

You use pain to protect others, I use forgiveness to protect myself.  You a great shoulder to cry on but dont want to cry and I dont want to vunerable but invite vunlerablity. Different sides to the same emotional or is it less coin.

Your wondering why Im sticking around and Im wondering how long you'll stay till you tire of me. Different sides to the same speculative coin.

Looking at you and looking at me, the striking resemblenses have become clear...more alike than different, different sides of the same coin...

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So this is how it happened, after months and months of flirting, one disastrous date turned great, some wine and whining it finally happened. It was great.  Slap bang in the middle of the day, can you believe it, sneaking away from work, a little lunch time fornication in my ex boss's house!  Yes I know what you're thinking and yeah you are right but it had to happen - it was another one of those sticky JHB afternoons, where you wish for the relief of a wet winter wind.

It was fab, it was great and dare I say finally worth the wait. But wait there is more. A little birdie mentioned to me that a night or two before our daring deed he had apparently entertained a girl up in the same spot and to top it all - she is a screamer!  Note I say is and not was. I was devastated but I pretended not to care.

So what, right, we made no promises I said to the vindictive little birdie with her big ass and bigger mouth. She snarled at me, so I straightened my back and launched into a scathing attack on her for blabbing out, hoping to make it clear to her that I am not interested in such news plus that I will never and have no intentions on this boy of dubious principles. I tried to walk away back straight but felt weighed down by the news of his betrayal.  So I slumped back to my office, my desk faced his. All the signs were there man; he could not keep his hands off me? He called me regularly; this was coming on for a while? What is it with me? What do I want? I am getting too old for this shit right?

What did you think he is only with you? Do you think he was waiting only for you? I told you - you will crush, don't trust, don't! - overbearing often right inner dialogue.

Now I lay in my double bed- a single girl still, it's another hot afternoon and my mind wanders - thoughts of him and the screamer, how often did it happen? I cant bring myself to ask him (I said to him once that we are either walking away from something or towards it- people our age - he said its complicated and left it there) Torture me now why don't you. Plus he is a Libra boy, hulle is die regte players of the Z. Bet Hugh Hef is a L. Has 3 women fighting for his approval and attention. He died and went to heaven in the 70's!

Does he like it when she screams?  He said once that he doesn't have good conversations with her, vindictive little birdie said she was a looker, a screaming creaming looker that has little to say.  Is that what he wants, I talk so much. At what point do I throw in the towel here. I wait for the phone to ring, hear his voice in my head mull over conversation and yes, check his phone when he is not looking. I don't mind admitting it. I know its bad but hey, I cant loose my heart again to a smooth talking brown skin who will gobble up my affection and straw out his - This girl is not throwing her pearls to the swines no more, not even for a little lunch time rendezvous, there is too much at stake.

Straightening my back, strengthening my resolve, putting my records on, cooking meals for one! Content, happy.  Switching off my phone, hold the image of the boy of my dreams in my mind, breath in, breath out. 5...4...3...2...1...whoosh, he is gone!

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OK This is my first blog on here and really today I feel like ranting and raving. Kicking and screaming like a banshee. Waking up on literally the wrong side of the bed is the worst thing that can happen in the morning ok apart from discovering that your penis has been removed or that aliens probed your ass... I am seriously deprived of sleep. I think I am taking Gatvol Leave for the entire month of October and sleeping! Wake me up when October ends lalalalal hmmmm then again it might not be a good idea as I need leave to visit family and best friends i.e 1. The Workaholic, 2. The Queen, 3.The Closet Case, 4. The Half, 6. Part Animal and last but not least 7. X Ok I am going to attempt my hand at some work just as soon as I finish reading my book and listening to the new Coldplay CD. Gawd what am I cooking tonight? Pasta al pesto? It's hard being a half vegetarian. Cleaning chicken or even making it tonight seems like a mission. Pasta al pesto it is. Maybe Housemate Good-Cook will whip us a dish as Housemate Student can't really cook and Housemate I-don't-cook (that says it all) won't cook. Ok concentrate. HAVE to work or else will surely be sacked. Need sleep really.

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Before i begin with my blog. Note that my son 'J' is called "trouble".

Trouble brought home piles of paper work from school yesterday. One of them was a sheet that had people staring at a lake and the instructions were to draw a picture of a monster. Trouble had drawn a big monster with blood shooting everywhere. No big surprise there. And the monster was saying, "I hate you," to the people. The unusual thing is that "I hate you" was written backwards, and when I say backwards, I mean written from right to left, each letter written backwards. It was an exact mirror image. I asked him why he had done that and he had no answer. Not only did he have no answer, he didn't understand that he'd written it backwards.

This is not the first time he's done something like this. We went to a family day when he was in pre-school and there was a teacher sitting across from him at a table and she asked him to write his name. He picked up the pencil and wrote his name upside down and backwards, so it read correctly to her sitting across from him, like it was the most natural thing in the world. She said she'd never seen a kid do that before.

Most of the time his writing is normal. Occasionally there's a letter that's backwards or something. His writing's not that great and the spelling is still very imaginative. But every once in a while, I'll see he's written something completely mirror image. I don't know quite what to make of it. I don't think that's dyslexia. My understanding is that would cause him to read and write with the letters randomly backwards and forwards, more jumbled. And that's not what he's doing. I wonder, if in drawing the picture, he was seeing the words from inside the picture, like from the monster's perspective?

Trouble's also a lefty, and I know that can be associated with different brain activity, different ways of thinking. Not sure if that might somehow be connected. We have several left-handed people in the family, and none of them seem to have done that.

Anyone else have a kid that does this? Is it as unusual as it seems to me? Trouble absolutely has his own ideas about things. He is undoubtedly wise beyond his years in many respects, but just making grade level in others. He's a great critical and abstract thinker, he already has a shocking aptitude for negative numbers. His reading is on the higher range for his age. But this backwards writing thing. It's just baffling. I'd have a problem doing it if someone asked me to, and he has trouble even comprehending that he's done something strange.

P.S. - Amazing what you can find on Google. Suppose it can't be that troubling when he's in the company of da Vinci.

http://www.proteacher.net/discussions/showthread.php?t=6623

http://life.familyeducation.com/cognitive-development/early-learning/42297.html

http://handedness.org/action/leftwrite.html

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So the reason I've been silent for so long is simply because so much has happened in such a short space of time, I needed time to process it all. I have and here goes. This revolution has not been televised.

Its Sunday afternoon, I am swimming in box wine, red, my flat is silent.  The eerie stillness unnerves me; I look at myself in the mirror for some company. "I have grown so accustomed to her face".  Everything from where I work to that I am having sex has changed. Things seem certain now; I signed a contract and am now working in Pretoria. Pretoria.  I am a permanent employee, pension, medical aid the works.  Sent my little girl and nanny to CT for a two week break and so that I may adjust to the new environment, I am going to move here. I like the trees, they are colorful.

This last time has been tough; I got by on a (chicken) wing and a prayer! I handled my business though, after being told I would be retrenched from company run by monkey ball mad MD (who incidentally is now called Aero - long story) with bad suits and worse ideas to being employed in semi kushy kinda government ish job...last day at monkey house was Friday.  First day new job Monday - that's today.  I handled my business.

After sharing with you the fact that I hated my new MD so, at the time I wrote this entry (Saturday morning) I wanted to report that he had significantly dropped off my YUCK radar.  I was going to tell you that I have had a real conversation with him. That he has great taste in wine and that I was happy to consider him as an acquaintance.  That was until Sunday morning around 3.40am. You see that was the time I arrived home with his very tipsy fiancé, very petit, wears glasses, sexy in a naughty teacher or PA way.  We trawled the street of JHB in search of that elusive GLG (good looking guy) that would curl our toes and make us loose our very loose (thank the wine) resolve.  Everything about us screamed we are available - we want to have fun.

He probably smelt it at the door, he arrived a few moments after we did and I was already in my panties and one of his giant shirts. Sipping the good wine from the cellar when he plonked an Aero in front of me. Already giddy with wine, feeling super sexy and unfulfilled as the night produced nothing more than numbers from boys - who I could easily forget I latched onto the Aero with expert precision.  I waited until he left, to check on his monkey balls stash probably and by the time he returned I had nibbled the edge off the slim brown chocolate!

He came into the kitchen, said - who ate my choc, I said it was me with a what are you going to do about it grin, he stormed out of the house and returned shortly after with a new Aero, I started getting the feeling that shit was going to happen and prepared my waif-ish friend, I told her that he will probably over react and that she must not be afraid.  I know how to deal with bullies.  I was really not afraid. He came back and started swearing at me, I stopped him in his tracks and told him that he is not allowed to speak to me or any other woman like that, to which he jumped up and rushed over to me, he said get out of my house right now, I said, you over sensitive petty prick, I don't need to be told twice, you may have dominion in this house prick face but you have none out there.  I then took off his shirt and threw it at him. Stood in my panties and bra while I told him that tomorrow he will regret this but that I understand he is not all there (saw him taking a batch of about 7 pills - for depression just moments before - sore point) I said that once the pills set in, he will realize the error of his ways but that it would be too late.  I said: Fu**k you and the horse you rode on you overbearing pile of puke and left.   Perhaps it's a good thing that he is not my boss anymore!

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Just wana say happy birthday to the Muse hope she will still be mine for years to come love you babe....

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So so happy its friday today.  Cannot wait to get home coz I will be doing some baking with my daughter. Luckily 3pm is not so far away.

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It was late afternoon on a Friday, and the day was surely drawing to a close, the mood was jovial, the cassette player in the car turned out mid tempo tunes and everyone was singing along. Smiles permeated faces, loud laughter echoed all around and cigarette smoke escaped the moment the car windows were rolled down. A soft and gentle drizzle welcomingly brought relief to the sweltering summer heat. The car slowly came to a halt and she enlightened and walked to the middle of the road, she wore flat leather sandals, a denim jeans that snuggly accentuated the contours of her thighs up to her small yet fragile middle section, her white short sleeved crew neck t-shirt fitted tightly over her upper body simultaneously drawing ones eye to appreciate her flat stomach, her well rounded supple breast and a clear neckline. She had her black hair combed backwards allowing it to round off in one single platted pony tail. Her skin has been sun kissed a golden honey brown. Right there in the middle of the road without any inhibitions she rhythmically started to snap her fingers, slowly lifting her arms above her head whilst allowing her whole body to slowly sway with sultry movements to the tunes blaring from the car stereo. So she began to perform a soothing dance. Her countenance was glowing as the soft rain gently kissed her cheeks and the broad smile on her face fully expressed the joy she felt. I gazed at this display of inner bliss. I stepped out of the car completely enchanted and I slowly strutted towards her. As she turned she stretched out both her hands to welcome me into her space. The ever inviting smile on her face grew broader and broader. With no resistance at all, I joined the dance, and although I could feel the numbness in my knees obviously brought about by this immensely intoxicating spectacle, I somehow managed to at least sway my body to the mid tempo tunes emanating from the car. Caught in this warm embrace and gently swaying to the music whilst heavens tears bathed our bodies. I felt a highly unfamiliar yet profoundly consoling warmth enveloping my whole being. The mood was solemn, the emotions evoked was descriptive of a natural high. Peculiar to the ever changing moods of Highveld weather, a gentle spray of soft rain to ease the heat, followed by the sun breaking through the clouds as it follows its undisturbed course to the western horizon, painting the heavens pastel colored hues in its wake. A soft spray of rain and pastel colored skies, a sensual dance and uncontrolled reciprocated emotions in the spring of your life must be a tale of fantasy as miracles do not happen to mere mortals, but even I at some time in my life were afforded the opportunity to luxuriate in the blessings that the heavens bestowed upon me. That one moment in time was reserved for me and her to experience and participate in what is affectionately referred to as love. Could it really love I asked myself over and over and over again, seeking confirmation from myself. Even unto this day when I look at her, the gleaming glow of youth may have been substituted by the maturity of the added years, but the broad smile, the warmth of her affections, the comfort of her soft touch, and the unequivocal truths of her heart still remains. How can it not be love if all the beauty the world could ever offer me was captured in one single moment I silently deliberated? Both of our hearts, minds, bodies and souls were united and forever bound together to speak as one. Gentle rain that may be interpreted as heavens sign of a shower of blessings, mid tempo tunes to resemble the vicissitudes and ebb and flows of life and golden rays of sunshine and pastel colored skies that might also be interpreted as our bright and colorful future together. All of nature gathered in harmony to celebrate with us the true love found. And from that moment onwards, I was hers, she was mine and life in an instant had new meaning and was oh so fine.

Oblivious to the candid and serene beauty that we discovered, our friends undisturbed went about their joyous ways of partying deep into the early hours of the following morning. Who could blame such a jocund bunch of young people in the prime of their lives? Loud music and laughter, vibrant young bodies spontaneously dancing to the up tempo rhythms emanating from the component hi-fi system as thick fog of cigarette smoke filled the living room and a constant flow of alcohol and a perpetual state of insobriety somehow marked the recklessness of youth. All of these unplanned festivities were certainly to the irritation and consternation of the neighbors who must have been desperately seeking some sleep. As for us, we joined in the laughter and dancing and refrained from indulging in any other activities since what we discovered earlier in the rain already transported us to a of heightened level of excitement that will last an eternity. Amidst the dancing and activity every so often our eyes would seek each other out in the crowd in an attempt to assure and confirm that the previous events was not a frivolous passing parade. We could not let each other out of sight for a single moment. As the loud music and laughter gradually died down without anybody really noticing, the sound resonating from the hi-fi system were softer and slower and we somehow found ourselves in each others arms on the leather sofa that stood in the one corner of the living room. Someone previously thought it appropriate to dim the lights for whatever reason and it created a calm and romantic mood. Our faces were so close, our bodies even closer, I could feel every beat of her heart as it pounded in her chest, her soft brown eyes met mine and our lips briskly touched. Our very first kiss. Her lips were soft and tasted as sweet as nectar from a honeycomb. The sincerity of her soul could be felt in the intensity of her kiss. Our bodies trembled uncontrollably out of sheer excitement as we found ourselves on the brink of surrendering our all. A shy smile clothed her lovely face. It was November.

 

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You can't understand me

I don't need you to try

Just stand the and love me

it's not your fault, i cry.

It happens sometimes

My Heart gets severely torn

Between what i want and what is right

Between who I am and who is in control

It's okay, just smile when i do

It's okay, just hold me

I'm going to get through

Just be here for me.

Don't speak

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Why do all dreamers share visions of flight? Is it the longing of the spirit to be free of the meat and bone and dirt of life? Do we tap a shared memory of some lost history when we could soar at will? Or is it simply  base jealousy that propels the mind into the clouds? For how can anything that flies be burdened by sorrow or want? How could anything that dances with the wind stay still long enough to hurt? What would one give to find out? What would one give to fly? Back. Back to reality. What am I doing here? Why can't I be happy? The people are well cared for. Our basic needs are satisfied. Food, housing, a job, even the weather. By most accounts, it is a paradise. Most, unless you happen to be foreign. The attacks began. Them and us who feel our freedoms are a sham. That we are still prisoners in our own country, economic prisoners. Take out the legs and the body will fall.  Suddenly my problems don't seem as significant anymore. We all feel that way sometimes. Powerless. Like puppets hung from God's fingertips, wishing we could cut the strings, or at least see them.  But we cannot, only God knows the plan. So we do what we can to give ourselves the illusion of control. We build great monuments to technology, we make schedules and bleed to keep them. And for most people, that's enough. But not for you. Paradise has never been enough for you. There has to be more than just this. The nightmare always ends just before you you hit the ground, doesn't it? Look out. That man's dangerous. He is the illegal alien out for your women and children.  Why is this happening to us? What did I do to deserve this? It will be alright, I promise.  Somehow we will make it alright. Will you pray with me? I cannot, I do not believe that anyone is listening anymore. I love this place, it is my home, my life. It's citizens are good people, decent, hard working and caring. The people are too civilized, too pure for such madness. When one of YOUR children dies, how do you go on? Here we are fighting for TRUTH ,JUSTICE and the AMERICAN way. As if that were some inseperable holy trinity. Truth? That's in the teller, just calmly messaged words that very well may be nothing but carefully finessed lies. Justice? Belongs to the judge, who sits above those who put him there because they cannot trust themselves. And the American way? It constantly evolves out of something that proves to be true and a lie, just and not. ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL.ALL MEN. What is that? A temporary informal settlement. Temporary? Turn a blind eye to it for so long, you forget it is even real. That's where THEY live. Its where they stick THEM in case THEY open their mouths with an opinion, or try and earn the same money, or want to have children. Temporary? Whole settlements like that living and dying for almost a 100 years! Its everything we were fighting against, or I thought it was. What did it cost to buy us? You need to see something. Please. THIS IS NOT THE PROMISED LAND! In a 100 years man leapt from flight to the moon and beyond. In a 100 years Rome conquered the known world. In a 100 years history can re-invent itself. I am tired of watching lives shatter. Damn you. Something dark has been unleashed, born in the blurred lines between faith and zealotry. Between righteousness and racism. He does not care about justice, he is not even listening. But faith only gets you so far, right? Had enough reality yet? No, I imagine you have not. How you shame the legacy. You will not pervert my life into a justification for hate. You have no choice. We all have a choice. Choice is the greatest gift we have. If there is a God, if there is a plan, free will is at the heart of it. Let go of your history and hate. It will destroy and poison everything. Have faith, its over. I cannot promise you heaven, but we will make things right. SOMETHINGS CANNOT BE MADE RIGHT! The violence at least has ended. Its a start. The real question is what choices will be made, will THEY find a heaven or a hell?

ps1 Does anyone think Osama will win? Oops, sorry, I meant Obama.

ps2 What is the difference between a non-white Democrat and a non-white Republican?

Answer: A non-white Republican knows his place.

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Copied from a recent e-mail; Worth the read. Wentworth becomes a war zone again Pollution, gangsterism and violence are on the increase, writes Oliver Meth September 03, 2008 Edition 1 Oliver Meth THE shots rang out soon after 1pm on Saturday last week, and many of us ran out of the barracks - blocks of flats next to the Engen refinery - to find yet another teenage corpse: Zukz MacDonald. He joined Tersia Heslop, Roman van Schalkwyk and Sebastian Roskruge as some of this year's victims of Wentworth violence. A growing epidemic of drug usage and gangs is causing the death of too many of our youngsters. Violence is raging out of control. Nightclubs seem to be the main site, and gangs the main source. With a population of 27 000 residents and a 40% unemployment rate, Wentworth is desperate. The area was designated as coloured during apartheid-era racial planning. We catch the bulk of pollution emitted in the south Durban industrial basin. Factories line Wentworth's northern, western and eastern perimeters. The huge oil refinery, mockingly called the ship that never sails, is a constant threat, with leaking pipes, toxic gas emissions and periodic infernos. Our location and working-class or poor status give Wentworth the reputation of a difficult community. Environmental pollution, drug infestation and an epidemic of gangsterism plagued the area during the 1980s-1990s, and we are now suffering a rebirth of all three. A huge increase in oil refining is expected, thanks to the planned R50 billion pipeline that will carry petrol to Gauteng. But affected communities object that the path chosen reeks of environmental racism. Pattern As for gangs, the pattern is familiar. "We done the time, they done the crime," says a rueful Peter Usher, who 25 years ago was a member of the local Wentworth Trucks gang. He and four others were sentenced collectively to 79 years for the murder of a crippled member of the rival Woodstock Vultures gang. To this day the Trucks passionately proclaim their innocence and seek redress in the new political dispensation. Younger gang members seem to carry the legacy of the 1980s and quite bluntly live for revenge. So the cycle of violence, drug usage and prostitution has been kickstarted, reminding residents of the early 1980s when gangs were rife and people were afraid to walk the streets at night. It is here that I was born and raised by my grandmother in a bleak, dilapidated council housing unit. "The '80s; it was like a war zone," she tells me. "After five in the afternoon, violence erupted. In the morning it was quiet, except for mothers who were crying, week in and week out, standing in front of open graves." For decades that was the story of Wentworth - a small community under siege while gangsters openly conducted turf wars in the streets. About the year 1999 members of the community rose up and changed that. For the past eight years it seemed as if the peace was holding, but then the nightclubs scrambled back into town. A decade ago, the late Catholic priest Father Cyril Carey, the prominent environmental activist Des D'Sa and many others dedicated their services to the community. They arranged peace negotiations with gang members and the closure of places which fostered violence. But it now seems that the peace they worked so hard for is over. D'Sa himself nearly lost his life in January, in a petrol bomb attack on his family's own small council flat. Who should we blame? And who has the power to make a difference here? The situation in Wentworth got out of hand when nightclubs were allowed back into the area by city manager Michael Sutcliffe. Violence broke out seriously at one of the clubs a year ago, when six murders were traced to the nightclub within a month, according to D'Sa. Last month there were five murders and a number of other shootings and stabbings. Abuse According to D'Sa the level of drug abuse was very high, even in primary schools. "No school is untouched. This is why the gangs have sprung up, to control turf around these sites," he said. D'Sa believes that organised crime has migrated from the Point and West Street region to Wentworth because of changes to liquor licensing regulations. Representing the Wentworth Development Forum, he sent Sutcliffe appeal after appeal but to no avail. Last week he read that the city manager would crack down on liquor licences, but this is yet to happen in Wentworth. Sutcliffe was quoted in the media as saying: "Regulation of liquor licences should be dealt with firmly." The problem, according to D'Sa, was that a clean-up in the city centre meant that "all the rubbish is transferred to our area". "The cops cannot handle it, even if they are straight. The senior police are scared of these gangs," D'Sa said. Rape and HIV incidence are rising rapidly. Kids are high on drugs and are more promiscuous. There are unlicensed firearms everywhere. This leaves civil society to pick up the pieces left by a failed state. Mothers patrol the area around Umbilo Secondary School to make sure pupils are not accosted by gangsters. D'Sa and other courageous citizens persevere. One day city officials will be within earshot, and asked to declare why they let the nightclubs come back, bringing us all the drunkenness, drugs, violence and murders. # Oliver Meth is a community scholar at the University of KwaZulu-Natal's Centre for Civil Society.

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A person can make you feel high,
A person can make you feel low.
But only you can decide,
Which way you want to go.

A person can hurt you mentally,
A person can hurt you physically.
But only you can place,
A limit on your abilities.

A person can cause drama,
A person can cause a situation.
But only you can create,
Your own reputation.

A person can make you laugh,
A person can make you cry.
But only you can make,
Decisions for your life.

So 
Don't live by what people do,
But live by what you know is true.

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I feared people's opinions

Until I learned that people would have opinions about me anyway.

I feared rejection

Until I learned to have faith in myself.

I feared pain

Until I learned that it's necessary for growth 

People may have an opinion about me; God has a plan for me

Be strong, f#ck what people think

It's my life

Only God can judge me

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When I was alone and had nothing

I asked 4 a friend 2 help me bear the

pain no one came except...GOD

when I needed a breath 2 rise

from my sleep no one could

help me except....GOD

when all I saw was sadness

and I needed answers no one

heard me except ....GOD

so when I am asked who I

give my unconditional love 2

look for no other name

except.....GOD!

                    The Lords blessings make me wiser as the worlds turning

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There was a little girl, beaten down, terrified, abused. She would hide sometimes in the old church across the street from her house. Hide in the shadows, finding cool comfort for a few hours. Forgetting the voices that screamed, the sweaty hands that touched and hit. Cocooned in a fragile peace and a far more fragile hope, can anyone say who that little girl would have become had that comfort continued, had that hope been nurtured? Perhaps a man. A man capable of caring so deeply, so selflessly, that he would sacrifice himself in the name of love. He tries hard to pull the darkness up from the depths of her mind. But this time he realises, she has taken it one step further. Let her die, she whispers. If you don't, she will be back, to hurt them, to hurt you. She will be back and you will have no-one to blame, but yourself. It is a convincing argument, and one that earlier he might have seriously considered. He feels for her, and it astonishes him. After all she has done, all she put him through, how can he possibly feel compassion for her? And yet he does, hoping that she can take the first halting steps to sanity. What is wrong with me? He wonders. I don't want to feel, I don't want to care, and yet I cannot seem to stop myself. I wrap myself in a cocoon, hide myself behind a mask and for all my efforts, I refuse to surrender. He is agitated, confused. But he knows it is time to stop running. No, you are safe with me, don't be a fool, don't let yourself care. All he wants now is to hold her in his arms, beg her to let him help her. If the mask comes off, she will claw out your eyes, if you open your heart, she will tear it from your chest.( I don't know if you will even find this. I don't know when or if you are ever coming home. I hope you understand why I am doing this, why I am going away. You have to do what is right for you and I have to do what is right for me.) Alone and unmoving he sits, staring at the lights and the lives below. So many thoughts cry out for his attention. They cry and cry, but he turns a deaf ear. Shuts them out. Pushes them down. Never again will he allow her voice to sway him, her hopes to seduce him. Never again will he show his face to that cruel and merciless world down there. The mask stays on. The heart stays cold. Now and forever, he vows.

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Once he would have had a funny line, a clever quip to conceal his fear and tension. Now he is as silent as death. There is something in his voice, something cold,  dark and angry. He laughs, but its an ugly, humourless sound. When he speaks, his voice is bitter, venom dripping from every word. How many times did he want to give in, to bitterness,  to despair? And he would have,  if he did not have faith, faith in something bigger. A force of love that binds each heart. In those moments, reality,  no matter how chaotic it previously seemed, transformed into a place of quiet joy, serene order. But there is no order now. Just madness eating away at his soul. What has taken this good man and twisted him so? His heart breaks for both of them. 

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Im a creature of habit and routine is a way of life me, not knowing shait scares me. More so not knowing what the next moment hold, funny, because no one knows that. See I like to sorta predict what happens next, even while watching a CSI or Law and order, I try to figure things out just like them.

So I like knowing things and even though im slightly off , sometimes wat off lol, feels good knowing I have tried.

NOW nothing could prepare me, not even trying to predict, for that day.

I didn't respond, and you must gotten anxious, because you sent a couple more emails that, and the next and the next...Than you decided to take it a step further and called.

The sound of your voice made me shake so badly I had to take a few seconds to catch myself. "why the silence?: you asked. "Im just in a little shock", I replied. After explaining we got to talking and this time, even if I tried, I couldn't avoid the confrontation, the very same confrontation I was trying to avoid by not mailing you back. We than caught up on three years and soon I felt myself melting. Melting like ice in HOT water. Now I was in HOT water, not only from your charm, but the guilt that gnawed at the very strings of my heart. After that there was no turning back, or was there?

I tried finding ways to get out, but felt trapped, not as in a hostage situation more out of obligation, not sure why, I just did.

You made me a promise and told me that you didn't forget. Now I had no right to want to hold you to it, and you had no right reminding me of that very promise or wanting to fulfill it.

Its been some time and we still speak, nothing hanky panky. But in our hearts we both know what we want, or do? You have regained my trust and now I can tell you anything, but the one thing I ant to tell you I hold back on. You've attempted in saying it, but I've stopped you before you could. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT. Im afraid I have made a mistake I should have courteously asked you not to call again. But me not saying that, meant that I wanted this, or did i. because it doesn't feel like I did. Was it a sub conscious choice that surfaced in the conscious realm? Was it destiny? WTF was it? Right now im in turmoil and not sure how to tell you what I know I MUST but cant seem to get to telling you. Do I really want this? Am I ready for the repercussions? Are you ready? Do you know what you want, or are you just infatuated and confused? This has just spiraled outa control and I feel like I am losing my ability of even attempting to tell what happens next....

 

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I'm sexy, I'm cute, I'm popular to boot.

I'm rigid, great hair, the boys all love to stare.

I'm wanted, I'm hot, I'm everthing you're not...

Who am I? just guess... Guys wanna touch my chest....

hate me cause i'm beautiful, well I don't like you either...

 

 

have you figured out what or who i am yet???

I'm a cheerleader hahahahaha....

 

sorry i was bored peeps... needed to get that out my head....lol

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I just realised something....this is so true

The following is so sad and unfortunately it's true. To any girls reading this, let it be an eye opener or a reminder, look at what's right in front of you! You could find what you've been looking for all along. And to any guys reading this, I speak for the girls who don't take nice guys for granted, and if we have ever made any of you feel like this we're so sorry!!!
~Annonymous

BEGIN:
I'm sorry
that I bought you roses
to tell you that i like you

I'm sorry
That I was raised with respect
not to sleep with you when you were drunk

I'm sorry
That my body's not ripped enough
to "satisfy" your wants

I'm sorry
that I open your car door,
and pull out your chair like I was raised

I'm sorry
That I'm not cute enough
to be "your guy"

I'm sorry
That I am actually nice;
not a jerk

I'm sorry
I don't have a huge bank account
to buy you expensive things

I'm sorry
I like to spend quality nights at home
cuddling with you, instead of at a club

I'm sorry
I would rather make love to you then just screw you
like some random guy.

I'm sorry
That I am always the one you need to talk to,
but never good enough to date

I'm sorry
That I always held your hair back when you threw up,and didn't get mad at you for puking in my car,
but when we went out you went home with another guy

I'm sorry
That I am there to pick you up at 4am when your new man hit you and dropped you off in the middle of nowhere,
but not good enough to listen to me when I need a friend

I'm sorry
If I start not being there because it hurts being used as a door mat, only to be thrown to the side when the new jerk comes around

I'm sorry
If I don't answer my phone anymore when you call, to listen to you cry for hours, instead of getting a couple hours of sleep before work

I'm sorry
that you can't realize.. I've been the one all along.

I'm sorry
If you read this and know somebody like this
but don't care

But most of all

I'm sorry
For not being sorry anymore

I'm sorry
That you can't accept me for who I am

I'm sorry
I can never do anything right, and nothing that I do is good
enough to make it in your world.

I'm sorry
I caught your boyfriend with another girl and told you about it, I thought that was what friends were for...

I'm sorry
That I told you I loved you and actually meant it.

I'm sorry
That I talked to you for nine hours on Thanksgiving when your boyfriend was threatening you instead of spending time with my family.

I'm Sorry
That I cared

I'm sorry
that I listen to you at night talking about how you wish you could have done something different.

Ladies always complain and gripe to their friends that there is never any good guys out there, and they always end up with assholes who mistreat them. Well ladies next time you're complaining, maybe look up to see who you're complaining to, maybe that special someone is right there hanging on your every word as usual, screaming in his head "Why won't you give me a chance?"
Because the person you are usually searching for is right by you.

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