Another glass of whiskey
With a hint of Cola to break the
Bold taste
You sit with that stripped golfer’s hat and
A black notebook, wearing a navy Polo shirt
Etching at the white pages with your
Hurt
Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just a voyeur
Observing your splendid brown eyes and pout lips
Muttering the words with every flick of your wrist
Your cigarette burns with the memories of the girl
Who you let capture and devour your Beautiful soul
Entering the lion’s cage
She must have lost you somewhere between a broken heart and worn out dream
That fickle blond vixen- destroyed a man with
A blunt tip dagger, slowly carving a hole
In the middle of his broad chest.
You look up for seven seconds in my direction-
Signal me for another drink
But you don’t see me- you don’t feel me
Undressing your layered soul –
You have big ambitions and bigger worries
But you have a business dinner at eight, or perhaps a date with fate-
I carry it over- your third or is it fourth order?
Place it in front of you, but you’re already
Re-immersed in your literature
Looks like a poem, or some unfinished lyrics
Are you a Neil Young or just a young Neil?
“The check please” you say but don’t flinch
“It’s on the house”
You peel your eyes away and look at me-
But this time you see me with reflected light in your eyes
The soft glow emanating a yearning for a magical unfolding
You gaze at me like you’ve met me in a dream- and suddenly I’m real
“Thank you, but there is no need”
You push your hands into the pockets of your Diesel jeans
You’re stubborn- in your words, in your actions
Such a resilient soul, soldier
You were raised to be righteous, to be honest and polite
To carry on your family name with honor and pride
You only turn your written and lyrical words into a minefield of emotions
But keep your composure, your alpha demeanor
That’s your right, and you are right to
March strong, with planned out strides and trail-less tracks
Chose a path that leads to closure- to fulfillment of a grandeur picture
“I insist, it’s the least I can give to a man sitting in this bar all alone”
You pick yourself up; take a final drag of the cigarette, you vowed to lay-off
Leaving your notebook behind
“Sir, your notebook…”
“It’s on the house- read it when your shift is over.”
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Saturday, May 15, 2010
A Letter to an Old Friend
Dear Loneliness,
It has been quite a while…
Remember those many nights we spent together, discovering each other’s boundaries? Remember how incredulous I was in thinking you were any good for me? How often I spited you and wished you away? Remember how you wanted to embrace me, cradle me to sleep and hum those soft lullabies in utter silence? How harrowing it was for me to fall asleep without the sweet whisper of an angel that used to tuck me away for 18 years. I would cast a pull over your attempts, and play those movies filmed across town or croon myself to sleep muffling the silence with John Mayer, or his likes.
Remember those days when all I saw were the blue and gold colors, walking up and down Gayley Avenue? I memorized every crack along the way and every step retraced the day before. I remember looking over my shoulder hoping you would leave me alone, but you were there just like a shadow, blending every now and again with the shadows cast by the trees from the Pacific sun- but never too far out of sight. Even when I had company, sometimes you would brazenly appear, unannounced and uninvited. “Can’t you see I have company, how about you just take off and take this crippling feeling you give me with you.” I would whisper that to you- in between me listening to my friend’s complaints- but you were staunch and I had meek attempts at shooing you away.
I miss you though- you don’t come around as often any more. My mind has no time to wonder off like it used to- and when it does it often creates more of a mess than a resolve, and so I have learnt to switch off. I realize now that I was harsh in calling you loneliness- you are Solitude, masked in layers of loneliness, but when peeled, you are actually not so bitter. You surprisingly have a comforting feeling – I just needed to understand you rather than try to run away from you.
I don’t think I could relive those 90024 days, nor that I could have you as a lifelong companion- but don’t be so afraid to stop by every once in a while.
Love,
Celine
P.S. Take care of him.
It has been quite a while…
Remember those many nights we spent together, discovering each other’s boundaries? Remember how incredulous I was in thinking you were any good for me? How often I spited you and wished you away? Remember how you wanted to embrace me, cradle me to sleep and hum those soft lullabies in utter silence? How harrowing it was for me to fall asleep without the sweet whisper of an angel that used to tuck me away for 18 years. I would cast a pull over your attempts, and play those movies filmed across town or croon myself to sleep muffling the silence with John Mayer, or his likes.
Remember those days when all I saw were the blue and gold colors, walking up and down Gayley Avenue? I memorized every crack along the way and every step retraced the day before. I remember looking over my shoulder hoping you would leave me alone, but you were there just like a shadow, blending every now and again with the shadows cast by the trees from the Pacific sun- but never too far out of sight. Even when I had company, sometimes you would brazenly appear, unannounced and uninvited. “Can’t you see I have company, how about you just take off and take this crippling feeling you give me with you.” I would whisper that to you- in between me listening to my friend’s complaints- but you were staunch and I had meek attempts at shooing you away.
I miss you though- you don’t come around as often any more. My mind has no time to wonder off like it used to- and when it does it often creates more of a mess than a resolve, and so I have learnt to switch off. I realize now that I was harsh in calling you loneliness- you are Solitude, masked in layers of loneliness, but when peeled, you are actually not so bitter. You surprisingly have a comforting feeling – I just needed to understand you rather than try to run away from you.
I don’t think I could relive those 90024 days, nor that I could have you as a lifelong companion- but don’t be so afraid to stop by every once in a while.
Love,
Celine
P.S. Take care of him.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Resurrecting "Fight Club"
Except for everyday that ends with "Y"- I question the human motive- actually more like the ulterior human motive, since that seems to be what actually drives us to turn a motive into an action.
I was skimming through my archived blogs, and I knew at one point or another I must have written something pertaining to this topic, and lo and behold I have. I decided to resurrect this previous blog, not because I am running out of ideas or topics to discuss, but because I feel like I have slightly augmented my stance.
Fight Club Blog:
I think we all have a Tyler in us; we just keep him or her tamed, caged and locked up most of the time. I loved it when Edward Norton’s character said just as the condo blew up, "there goes a house with all the condiments and no food" and when Tyler (Brad Pitt) says "only when you have lost everything are you really set free" and also when says, “Only after disaster can we be resurrected”. I think I can go on and on about how many “ah ha” moments this movie has. Even though this movie sought out male audience members, as a girl I can relate to the inner tension every human has with his/her own self. I might be over analyzing here but I think the crazy state Edward Norton was in and his pseudo imaginary friend, Tyler, being so sadistic is not as Hollywood as you would like to think. Matter of fact it is real, just not in the blood goring, let’s join an underground Fight Club, kind of way.
We suppress agony, frustration, sexual desires, animalistic outrages; we question faith, religion, the existence of God and ultimately the truth about our state of mind (or lack thereof). We inadvertently deny such bottled up tension, and dismiss acts of violence as being cannibalistic. Beating a man to death for the pleasure it gives yourself is vicious, because what separates man from beast is the brain God gave us in order to use reason, have judgment, and believe that bad people end up playing poker with Satan for all eternity (I am sure hell is a lot worse than gambling with a man with red horns, a tail and a pitchfork).
Action has a birthplace: the mind. Every thought that emanates from your mind has the power to transform into an action (even speech is an action), but it is motivation and consequences that either push you or dissuade you from carrying through. From the most explosive to the most benign and flagrant of thoughts, we all have them, but don’t always act upon them.
Even impulse is not impulse, it has gone from being something that the mind created to something that the body communicated. Yet the basic inklings of those thoughts permeate through your action. For example, if you are angry at someone you may want to go sleep it off, light up a cigarette, write them an angry letter, avoid them, call them and try to communicate with them, pound a punching bag or a concrete wall, but really deep down inside you want to ring their throats, you want to jolt out the nastiest words and bite off their ears Mike Tyson style. But these are just hermits in your mind, instead you act in the manner expected of you (yes psycho paths and people who have wrong wirings in their brain, like sex predators, rapists, kleptomaniacs, etc are exceptions).
If everyone acted on impulse and instinct and listened to their Tyler’s, the golden rule of Fight Club would be broken: everyone would be talking about Fight Club, because everyone would be in it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
I still agree with what I previously wrote, we are still caged up in many ways. But I think it is ultimately for our own benefit.
The contagion of bad thoughts spreads like lava in the mind, slowly burning down the principles and the values you uphold, provoking you to act like an unleashed caged beast. But generally speaking those thoughts are reserved in the subliminal attic of the human mind, because society (law enforcement), faith and belief in Heaven and Hell deter you from turning into a maniac. We all want to be knocking on Heaven’s door when the sand of our time has run out, and so we keep the fissures in our morality in check, not conceding to any fiend outburst.
It’s really hard work, if you think about it, being righteous, virtuous and generally good- but this topic has been dealt with since the ancient Greeks (when they weren’t busy having group orgies and drowning themselves in wine) who devoted a good deal of their time to the understanding of Humans in their nature and in their nurture. So I am not going to list what they believed and said, nor list what school of thought each bona fide philosopher subscribes to, because that would turn this into a regurgitation of information and not experience.
Simply, I am a believer that Humans are inherently good, not evil- we live in a world where we are fully capable of choosing good or evil, and most of the time we chose to be good.
I was skimming through my archived blogs, and I knew at one point or another I must have written something pertaining to this topic, and lo and behold I have. I decided to resurrect this previous blog, not because I am running out of ideas or topics to discuss, but because I feel like I have slightly augmented my stance.
Fight Club Blog:
I think we all have a Tyler in us; we just keep him or her tamed, caged and locked up most of the time. I loved it when Edward Norton’s character said just as the condo blew up, "there goes a house with all the condiments and no food" and when Tyler (Brad Pitt) says "only when you have lost everything are you really set free" and also when says, “Only after disaster can we be resurrected”. I think I can go on and on about how many “ah ha” moments this movie has. Even though this movie sought out male audience members, as a girl I can relate to the inner tension every human has with his/her own self. I might be over analyzing here but I think the crazy state Edward Norton was in and his pseudo imaginary friend, Tyler, being so sadistic is not as Hollywood as you would like to think. Matter of fact it is real, just not in the blood goring, let’s join an underground Fight Club, kind of way.
We suppress agony, frustration, sexual desires, animalistic outrages; we question faith, religion, the existence of God and ultimately the truth about our state of mind (or lack thereof). We inadvertently deny such bottled up tension, and dismiss acts of violence as being cannibalistic. Beating a man to death for the pleasure it gives yourself is vicious, because what separates man from beast is the brain God gave us in order to use reason, have judgment, and believe that bad people end up playing poker with Satan for all eternity (I am sure hell is a lot worse than gambling with a man with red horns, a tail and a pitchfork).
Action has a birthplace: the mind. Every thought that emanates from your mind has the power to transform into an action (even speech is an action), but it is motivation and consequences that either push you or dissuade you from carrying through. From the most explosive to the most benign and flagrant of thoughts, we all have them, but don’t always act upon them.
Even impulse is not impulse, it has gone from being something that the mind created to something that the body communicated. Yet the basic inklings of those thoughts permeate through your action. For example, if you are angry at someone you may want to go sleep it off, light up a cigarette, write them an angry letter, avoid them, call them and try to communicate with them, pound a punching bag or a concrete wall, but really deep down inside you want to ring their throats, you want to jolt out the nastiest words and bite off their ears Mike Tyson style. But these are just hermits in your mind, instead you act in the manner expected of you (yes psycho paths and people who have wrong wirings in their brain, like sex predators, rapists, kleptomaniacs, etc are exceptions).
If everyone acted on impulse and instinct and listened to their Tyler’s, the golden rule of Fight Club would be broken: everyone would be talking about Fight Club, because everyone would be in it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
I still agree with what I previously wrote, we are still caged up in many ways. But I think it is ultimately for our own benefit.
The contagion of bad thoughts spreads like lava in the mind, slowly burning down the principles and the values you uphold, provoking you to act like an unleashed caged beast. But generally speaking those thoughts are reserved in the subliminal attic of the human mind, because society (law enforcement), faith and belief in Heaven and Hell deter you from turning into a maniac. We all want to be knocking on Heaven’s door when the sand of our time has run out, and so we keep the fissures in our morality in check, not conceding to any fiend outburst.
It’s really hard work, if you think about it, being righteous, virtuous and generally good- but this topic has been dealt with since the ancient Greeks (when they weren’t busy having group orgies and drowning themselves in wine) who devoted a good deal of their time to the understanding of Humans in their nature and in their nurture. So I am not going to list what they believed and said, nor list what school of thought each bona fide philosopher subscribes to, because that would turn this into a regurgitation of information and not experience.
Simply, I am a believer that Humans are inherently good, not evil- we live in a world where we are fully capable of choosing good or evil, and most of the time we chose to be good.
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