Romance & Porn

Fiona Gannon

Romantic films are known to ruin relationships as they give unrealistic expectations to women about what to expect from men. Porn has the same effect on men.
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Maia Knight <~~this porn star just happened to find her prince charming =) lol!
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Fiona Gannon a friend posted this i just thought it was too cute we are lil porn stars at heart =)
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Doug Humble What is porn???? Lol
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Maia Knight the nectar of the gods...
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Doug Humble Lol
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Maia Knight err...i mean a shameful black eye marring the innocent canvas of society!!
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Doug Humble Well put!

i carry no arms

my own deniability
is thrown out...as a joke in front of me
the sick is in my throat
and i see now
i admitted my weakness
now its a thing used to choke me
by my own hand!~ it chokes me
this reaction is absurd.
unacceptable.
i've traveled too far from center

Same Mistake

Same Mistake 
James Blunt

Saw the world turning in my sheets and once again I cannot sleep.

Walk out the door and up the street; look at the stars beneath my feet.

Remember rights that I did wrong, so here I go.

Hello, hello. There is no place I cannot go.

My mind is muddy but my heart is heavy. Does it show?

I lose the track that loses me, so here I go.

And so I sent some men to fight, and one came back at dead of night.

Said he'd seen my enemy. Said he looked just like me,

So I set out to cut myself and here I go.

I'm not calling for a second chance,

I'm screaming at the top of my voice.

Give me reason but don't give me choice.

'Cause I'll just make the same mistake again.

And maybe someday we will meet, and maybe talk and not just speak.

Don't buy the promises 'cause, there are no promises I keep.

And my reflection troubles me, so here I go.

I'm not calling for a second chance,

I'm screaming at the top of my voice.

Give me reason but don't give me choice.

'Cause I'll just make the same mistake,

I'm not calling for a second chance,

I'm screaming at the top of my voice.

Give me reason but don't give me choice.

'Cause I'll just make the same mistake again.

Saw the world turning in my sheets and once again I cannot sleep.

Walk out the door and up the street; look at the stars.

Look at the stars fall down.

And wonder where did I go wrong.

I Won.

To be, or not to be– that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And, by opposing, end them.

 

Wiser

"next time I will choose more wisely"
"no no no"
"?"
"no....next time, be chosen more wisely"

Rediscover who you were...before you became that person who accepted the insults, the loneliness, the mistrust, the doubt, the fear.....

Learn to stand on your own...love who you are and who you have grown to be...

Look to the skies and let the sun shine on your face....

Don't run to escape the rain....learn to love the tickle of the drops...

Learn to breathe again.

The hands grew tired and old from hanging so tightly to a memory of what once was or what once could have been.  Open them wide now, and Let Go!

Don't fear your sarcasm...it's endearing.

Don't sensor that loud honk of a laugh you have, it's fantastic and contagious.

Then, for all those reasons....let him choose you.  Let him choose you as you are...not for who he would like to mold you into. 

You are not a horse to be broken.

Next time....this time....be chosen more wisely.

That Girl

She has perceptions on which she wishes to build a constituency.

If Only I Had an Enemy Bigger than My Apathy

Sometimes I wish I could say I felt something more than I do, if only to silence you.  At one time, I made a choice to be numb and now it is a thing that has become me.  I refuse to carry your burden.  I refuse to be the catch you are fishing for when you cast your line.  If there is a response you seek from me, just tell me as much.  However, if you demand to illicit a certain response from me, I'm afraid you may find yourself disappointed. 
I see the tears fall down your cheeks, and I know you perceive your emotions to be sadness and fear.  I perceive them as pathetic.  I see you as confused, and lost for something you are wanting.  Why do you feel entitled? Where did that idea come from? How quickly your inability to cope becomes my inability to sympathize.  Point your finger and dry your face.  Make anger your emotion and choose to decide.  Your attack of my apathy is ironic indeed.  If I am apathetic to your strife, would I also be apathetic to your blame?

This Time

This time I smile in the rain.

This time I insist on being treated respectfully.

This time I know he loves me.

This time I'm not waiting to be hurt, or left, or lonely despite his company.

This time I laugh from my belly.

This time I have remained true to myself.

This time I am not afraid.

Give Up

...Well you are my accuser, now look in my face,

Your oppression reeks of your greed and disgrace,

So one man has and another has not,

How can you love what it is you have got,

When you took it all from the weak hands of the poor?

Liars and thieves you know not what is in store.

There will come a time I will look in your eye,

You will pray to the God that you've always denied...

Press Repeat

One of my favorites:

Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons

Weep for yourself, my man,
you'll never be what is in your heart
weep little lion man,
you're not as brave as you were at the start

rate yourself and rake yourself,
take all the courage you have left
wasted on fixing all the problems
that you made in your own head

but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
didn't I, my dear?
didn't I, my...

tremble for yourself, my man,
you know that you have seen this all before
tremble little lion man,
you'll never settle for any of your scores

your grace is wasted in your face,
your boldness stands alone among the wreck
learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck

but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
didn't I, my dear?

but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
didn't I, my dear?
didn't I, my dear?
but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
didn't I, my dear?

but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
didn't I, my dear?
didn't I, my dear?

Sweet Tooth

I think about you from time to time. 
I wonder when you are going to realize that he's not yours.  How much longer will you be able to lie to yourself?  You know he's not the one you're supposed to be with.  You know he's not your soul mate...yet you'll continue to lie to yourself to present some transparent facade.  I wonder how much of your youth; how much of your beauty you'll lose before you finally admit the truth that resonates in your soul...before you'll no longer be able to suppress that voice that tells you that you can not honestly see yourself growing old with this man.  Your God? You speak of your God to a point where it chokes me and it chokes those around you!  You are searching for something to believe in because you surely can't believe in yourself!  Why? Because all you do is lie to yourself.  You speak of your God and point your finger at others, saying words as though you stand on a higher moral ground than those heathens around you.  In your Christianity and your 'Holy Bible' you are taught that your God dwells within you.  You can feel the presence of the Holy Spirit within you! Hallelujah Praise Baby Jesus~  If your God dwells within you, then you are not only lying to yourself and those around you, you are also lying to your God.  Is there a thing more forgivable than divorce? Is lying to your self, your family, your friends...your God...more forgivable than admitting you've made a mistake and remedy with divorce? 
I do think about your from time to time, but just as easily...I forget about you.

The God Walkers

They went forth and spewed offspring from their loins.  They spread their disease into the heredity of the next generation.  They poisoned their minds with entitlement, self pity, Christianity, destruction, narcissism, and messianic complex.  No path laid before them...but behind them lay a path lined with their sickness and their evil.  Their murder and their bloodshed.  Along that path lay the ones they have used and forgotten. That path is stained with the lying tongue of promises never meant to be kept.  The stones darkened by the wet of tears fallen from eyes who trusted....eyes that believed...eyes that honored.  These dark eyes are dry now.  These feet stand firm now.  These hands are tight with fists.  I have learned.  I know your lies.  I smell them on your breath.  Your feet are a privilege for which you have not earned.  Creatures in your likeness are meant to slither upon the earth on their bellies.  Take your aim~ you soulless bastards.  Steady your hands~ you cold blooded, venomous creatures.  You had best point your daggers and strike me true. You had best lay my body upon this earth.  May your God grant you mercy, should you miss. For I shall not.

My Favorite Artist...take me away Van~

You can take all the tea in china
Put it in a big brown bag for me
Sail right around the seven oceans
Drop it straight into the deep blue sea

She’s as sweet as tupelo honey
She’s an angel of the first degree
She’s as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee

You can’t stop us on the road to freedom
You can’t keep us ’cause our eyes can see
Men with insight, men in granite
Knights in armor bent on chivalry

She’s as sweet as tupelo honey
She’s an angel of the first degree
She’s as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee

You can’t stop us on the road to freedom
You can’t stop us ’cause our eyes can see
Men with insight, men in granite
Knights in armor intent on chivalry

She’s as sweet as tupelo honey
She’s an angel of the first degree
She’s as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee

You know she’s alright
You know she’s alright with meS
he’s alright, she’s alright (she’s an angel)
You can take all the tea in china
Put it in a big brown bag for me
Sail it right around the seven oceans
Drop it smack dab in the middle of the deep blue sea
Because she’s as sweet as tupelo honey

She’s an angel of the first degree
She’s as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee
She’s as sweet as tupelo honey
She’s an angel of the first degree
She’s as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like the honey, baby, from the bee

She’s my baby, you know she’s alright with me

(what I would do to hear a certain saxamophone player play this song)

Bitter

One this date, nine years ago, my fellow countrymen with tear filled eyes and angry, furrowed brows, had the taste of revenge on their palates and belly's that craved the satiation of avenging the murder of their loved ones. With one eye taken they in turn seek to take the eye of another. With blind faith, like rats running up the ropes of a sinking ship, they followed their leader into a war that would take more civilian lives than any other war save the systematic attempted annihilation of the Jews by Nazi Germany. Why don't your eyes cry for the loss of those civilian Iraq citizens? Afghanistan civilians? Countless numbers of family's murdered. Children disfigured. Fatherless families. Piles of rubble. Smell of burned flesh and rotting bodies. Where are your furrowed brows now? Is your belly full, or do you crave more? Have you settled your scores? It is so much easier to see the amputation of a child's leg from stepping on explosives when that child is wearing Muslim robes, isn't it? His blood...her screams of pain...the tears falling down her cheeks...him carrying the body of his baby boy, walking...not knowing where....just walking...the children crying over the bodies of their mothers, praying to Allah that their screams will bring the life back in them. Those piles of rubble that once housed hundreds of families....much easier on the heart strings when they lay upon a sandy terrain under a hot sun... Put on a pair of wrangler jeans, take that "thing" off your head lady, learn to speak English without an accent, paint your face white, and bleach your hair blonde, then....maybe....my fellow countrymen will mourn the murder of your family as they mourned the murder of their own. On this day, I'm SO proud to be an "American".

i

i believe. i hope. i dance. i sing. i love.

Countless Sheep

I feel as though I am forever chasing sleep. I am so tired. Lay me down in a suns' beam and let me sleep for a dogs life.....zzzzzzz

Nico

Its been so dry here. The ground thirsts for water, and the flowers have all wilted. The sky opened and the rains began to fall at the same time my heart did. Ominous indeed. My little brother is going to prison. I can't fathom this. Kubler-Ross, you might have been onto something here. It feels like there is a weight on my chest, I think I might even be feeling anxiety? Is that what that is? I hear patients talking about it...rapid heart rate, hands tingly, mouth tingly, loss of linear thought patterns...I think I'll go have a breath of this "rain air" and a cup of tea.

This Precious Thing

Test my resolve. Please. The ground on which you stand, may soon become the ground on which you lie.

Such a Pretty Little Mouse, thought Lenny

Is it wrong that I don't like most of the people that surround me? I truly feel my life would be...well unaltered...if most of them just went away. The very honest truth is that they bore me, annoy me, irritate me, or just amaze me (not in a good way). So many times I am forcing myself to fit into a social setting. I smile because that is what the people around me are doing...smiling, laughing, engaging in conversation. I'm truly not interested...but I will put on the face that is expected of me. I'll help a person that I superficially refer to as a "friend"...when they are, in fact, not really what I consider a friend. I censor absolutely everything that comes out of my mouth...which is a hard thing to do! When my mind is thinking, "you're a dumb ass, I mean a real f-ing idiot"...and my mouth says "oh, that's so interesting"....it really takes a bit of training and coordination. Inside my mind and heart, I'm not the American sweetheart they think I am. I am so absolutely tuned in to a persons body language that I want to "out" them most of the time, and that's another thing I find difficult to deal with. I want to call them out for being as superficial as I am...the main difference being~they would deny it & I would applaude it. And this is a big reason, if not the biggest reason, that I don't drink...because when I do- the lines between those two thoughts become blurred and I will say exactly what I am thinking. If I could have about 5 people as my only social interaction...put blinders on my eyes and black out the world in the periphery.....I believe I would be blissfully happy.

I'll Bring the Balloons

The worst sound I have heard in my life was in Oxnard, California in a hospital's emergency room. I can't remember why I was there...was I sick? Were the kids sick? I don't know. I do remember being in a very full waiting room with no more chairs to sit on. And we were there for so long, that I laid on the floor near the wall...there were many other people who had the same idea and used their jackets, backpacks, purses and loved ones to rest on. In a rush of police, sirens, a large group of people pouring in the door...a young man was brought in on a stretcher through the ambulance bay. I could hear the radios from the police officers, and the family members talking back and forth and from this gathered there had been a shooting. "where's his mom?" one said, "she'll be here shortly" was the reply. About twenty minutes later, a very distraught woman arrived...barely able to walk due to sobbing. She was immediately escorted to a small room next to where I was laying. Then a doctor and a couple nurses came out the double doors. One look at their faces and I knew the message they were about to deliver to this family. I heard a muffle of sounds from the doctor...including words like, "critical", "fatal", "loss", "tragedy"....what followed was a sound that I have never forgotten. A mother, in her hopeless desperation....opened her mouth and let out a scream of pain and agony comparable only to something that I could imagine coming from the belly of a fallen god. Then spats of hatred and anger towards her God, followed by words of anger toward the hospital staff. How could they let him die? Why weren't they doing anything? Her final consensus resting on the fact that he was a black boy and the doctor and staff were white....he was just another punk kid...and that's why they let him die. How kind of them to alleviate his burden on our society...
Here's where I lose my popularity: At that very moment, I thought she was a fool. A hypocrite. A racist. Selfish.
If I were to ask any person who is of the Christian religion what their idea of the happenings after death were, I would most likely be recited some lines from the bible about streets of gold....heaven, hell, and purgatory. Big pearly gates and a very over worked, long bearded saint in long white robes working bouncer and checking his naughty & nice list. I would most likely hear a list of rules that ought to govern our behavior, that were magically carved in stone by "God" and given to an ailing old man to carry down a mountain. I am sure there are some stories from this book that are meant to be taken literally...I mean, I'm sure the burning bush wasn't something Mary Magdalen picked up from one of her clients...but a talking burning bush? It just gives me flashes of Cheech & Chong, and makes me wonder what sort of plant had caught fire...hmm- back to the point. This place, this form of "heaven", is described as a quite lovely place to hang out for eternity...no pain or suffering....yadda yadda yadda....is almost guaranteed to children, those who follow the rules in this book and swear oaths to the belief of Jesus and the virgin Mary (a different one...without a burning bush), and take a bath in a slightly oily & salty water. If you hang this torture device (a cross) on your walls and in your churches, it is a sure sign that you are a "believer" and appears to be your "in". I wonder if I hang guillotines in the rooms of my home, would it would prove that I'm a fan of the Royal Family?....hmmmm. Well, it seems that in this religion, although a dead loved one gets to meet their creator, and walk on streets of gold and wear fancy white robes...we should scream and cry, curse the sun and shake our fists to the sky, when they have passed on to this wondrous place. And the two of you won't be separated forever, because when you die....you get to be reunited! YAY! Hypocrisy? Kinda sounds like it. The Christian faith teaches its members to be happy for one another when good things happen to them...."oh praise baby Jesus!" But, if you don't like the method in which that person receives their glory, then you're allowed to have this emotional instability? I'm just trying to understand this. You see, I'm not of this belief...if you couldn't denote on your very own. I know death is a rite of passage. That crying has a foundation only in our own selfishness. I know I am going to miss the company of that person, I will miss seeing their smiling face, I will miss hearing their voice....I will miss watching them grow (in the instance of losing a child), I will miss hugs and kisses...do you notice a trend here? I, I, I....and I. When my mom leaves on a plane to fly back to her home, I don't have a large get together with overly priced bouquets and finger foods, and hire someone to play sad music on a piano; all because I will miss her until I get to see her again and this elaborate ritual is what I have learned from generations prior. Mourning is a pity party...a very selfish and self fulfilling ritual. What makes it even more interesting is when Christianity is involved. Isn't mourning the death of a fellow Christian, in fact, against the teachings of Christianity? And now that this "God" hasn't given her what she wants for her life, she shall denounce him and shake her fists in anger. And before you have a chance to say...."not what she wanted for her life, but what he wanted for his"..just let me stomp on that idea. This deceased body has no wants, no needs, no thoughts....if you refer to your own little book of "what to do's", you will read that there are no wants in heaven, no needs and no mourning for past lives.
Anger towards a doctor? Once again....this bible teaches there is nothing more powerful than "God" the Almighty....the Alpha and the Omega...When a mere human stands before this God, he is to be humbled and not even deserve to remain in "Gods" presence nor to look upon his face. Explain....according to this bible, who is going to win in a battle for a humans life?? Man or God? (Now, please understand, this is a completely different subject from medical malpractice...where the negligence of a physician leads to the death of loved one. An occurrence that I had the misfortune to watch a family experience. In this case, anger is a major course in the mourning process, and completely acceptable. Anger, having a foundation in our inability to change a thing, is an emotion that is very contagious and easy to comprehend.)
Why are we so afraid to admit what this process really is? Why is it so terrible to just admit that we are selfish by nature and the only thing we are truly mourning is our own unfulfilled desires for that persons life? Its really ok...no need to involve "God"...or blame doctors...or curse the sky and spit on the earth. Its an elaborate and socially acceptable temper tantrum for which people will actually send you flowers.

Infectious

She injects her opinions, her random empty thoughts, her superficial sideways comments...and her ignorance of respect and social boundaries into my life through channels both direct and indirect. This disgusting little parasite...feeding off whatever attention she may get from time to time. How long do I have to put up with this child? How long before she gets bored and moves on to someone and something else?