Beauty comes from the strangest places ( Read more... )

"In the stories of his adventures on earth, Quetzalcoatl is shown as a sexually potent being, whose energies were pent up until he as tempted by the goddess Tlazoteotl. In all descriptions of his personality, he is said to have been active and vigorous, and to have had an enormous penis. He wore a special loin-cloth with a rounded end, apparently ( Read more... )

Handwriting speaks lies never uttered-
Infinity is so vast when
compared to such a little man.
The present is transitory
and your heart had deceived you as well.
For if it had exposed the truth
then you would not have been so selfish
and you would not be dead.

Do your remember being a teenager and having all the sex education talks? The adults would say things like "Once you have sex with someone, they have a piece of you forever ( Read more... )

"Boys are sent out into the world to buffet with its temptations, to mingle with bad and good, to govern and direct - girls are to dwell in quite homes among few friends, to exercise a noiseless influence."
Elizabeth Missing Sewell

This upsets me.

I'm going to start concentrating on my sense of humor; applying it to situations that would normally piss me off. for example: when I am right and I know it, I am no longer going to be pissed that the other party is trying to tell me I'm wrong. Instead, I am going to laugh at them for insisting on being wrong and staying wrong.

Beauty comes to us from the strangest places
in the oddest ways.
I see it in the foggy memories
and trails of broken hearts,
I sense it in jet streams
and steamer wake and the
rising dust from under the wheels;
and somewhere ahead I will find it
in my own self

Just for the record, I know how awful it feels. I've been through a break-up. In fact, I know how it feels to get dumped; you're sad, you have no appetite, and all you can think about is what went wrong and how you could have avoided this catastrophe, what you could have changed ( Read more... )

Friend- the face I wallow toward
through a scrimmage of shut faces.
Arms like towropes to haul me home, aide-
memoire, my lost childhood docks, a bottled ark
in harbor. Friend-I can't forget
how even the word contains an endWe circle each other in a sacred bolero ( Read more... )

Yesterday I went outside ( Read more... )