Originally posted by Fëanor
yes...she is a real person. but not her real name. okay, let me go ask her.*dials number...hears ring. phone picks up*
Marianna: Hello?
Me: Hey...It's me.
Marianna: Hey! I didn't think you'd call.
Me: Well, I'm actually calling about a friend...wants to know if he can have your number.
Marianna: Really?
Me: Yeah.
Marianna: Is he French? Cause I love French men in berets.
Me: Actually....no. He's German.*Phone clicks*
weep
Originally posted by FëanorNow this I like. This isn't for a certain someone, I assume?
[b]Crazy In Love…Sulk no more, O’ weary heart; rejoice in song and praise.
For love has found me unbeknown on feathered gossamer wings.
And when the witching hour bends on blue, torrid, momentous days,
As the shadow’d past of my gloom hasten soon, its glory’d end.In love am I? I say forthwith and too, unnatural prosperity, aye.
That I should shoulder a boon, a wealth more than King Solomon.
This truth speaks not from words, or animation, but tact I try
So that you see…me…a man, loved; forever loved and beyond.O’ friend! Hark well. My flighted feet dance, spring forth with joy.
And gods and goddesses bequeath their blessings freely…
And freely with no tithe spared, denied, given or monies ploy.
Lowly birth’d, yet a king this day, a day sought greedily.Happy! Happy! Mirth and merriment!
My daily bread of love.
For I have now, no impediment,
Forever more, no more my love.😆 oh man...i crack myself up 😄 [/B]
Is all this worth it?
I will never understand what it is that makes people do the things they do. Why, if one person feels life is so bleak and dismal and happiness a gazillion miles beyond their reach, would they subject their “supposed” significant other that same feeling of bleakness and unhappiness upon them. Why? Why is it even necessary? So that they can give “them” a taste of their own unhappiness so that they know what it is they’re feeling too?
Or, if unhappy “A” feels that their source of all their unhappiness is “B”, is it within their right to make sure that “B” is unhappy too? Is this the way of things when it comes to relationships? Is this how it’s supposed to work? Are you guilty of exactly what I’ve just stated? Do we all do these things? I hope not. I myself try not to when I myself had to go through that. If I feel sad and stupidly idiotic or angry because life is overwhelming and just bogs me down to the point nothing in life is worth being happy about, what do I do?
I read. I write. I take long drives alone in my car with no destination in mind. To cool off? To think? To be alone? Sure why not. Why subject whomever what I feel. Why add to their own troubles. Because that’s what we’re supposed to do? To turn to whomever whenever life is shit? Because some stupid help book, or therapist, or who the fukc cares says that we should turn to our loved one, friends , family or the source of our irritation? Why? I see nothing good can come of that. Because they care?
I suppose in some way they do, but what if the one causing all these emotions is “B”? Then what? Use blackmail so that “B” knows what “A” is feeling and feel some small feeling of satisfaction that you’ve caused “B” so much grief because you feel that “B” caused yours? I HAVE HAD IT!!!!! I’ve reached my boiling point and I’ve had it! I’ve had it up to here and I see no end. Oh sure, I could say, “FUKC YOU!!” and leave it at that. But what will that get me? More fights? More grief?
“See! See! You are an a$$hole!” says “A”.
“Well, if you weren’t so goddamn sad all the time maybe I’d show some understanding!” says “B”.
“Well if you showed you care,” says “A”.
“How am I supposed to care when you’re so goddamn sad and so goddamn fukced up all the time?” says “B”.
“You never fukcing talk to me. All I want is that you show some care when I’m sad,” says “A”.
“You’re fukcing unapproachable!!” yells “B”.
“You say you love me, but you don’t show it,” says “A”.
“Because in your mind, I’m the fukcing source of all your goddamn problem. How am I supposed to approach you when you look at me like the black plague?” says “B”.
“It’s always about you, isn’t?” says “A”, “did you ever think it’s about me? Do you?”
“Well, what the fukc's the problem then? Because if I’m not…then why are you so goddamn sad?”
And so it goes: round and round and round and the end is nowhere to be found.
Life is dumb, and life is stupid…a mountain made from a silly mound.
Heated words exchanged and lobbied in war torn rage
Advice and reflections and wisdom none sought from a wise old sage.
Wasted money, time and thought in silent therapy
When love and happiness and smiles end in agony
All so fleeting and quick to turn
When a lover’s spat spark, ignite and fiercely burn
Stagnation, a cesspool, dank and muddy mired.
Let go the poisoned flow, but again and again I grow so tired.
Go. Go. Anger and hate.
Let me die. Let me die. Unhappy fate.
thanks guys...but really, that's not what happened to me. i wrote that after talking with Jake and his little problem aka Nunyah on the phone for almost damn near two hours as we drank our virtual beers. so i reflected on how he must've felt. lets just say without going into too much detail: he got married...got divorced. sad.
Okay…I’d like to Know
I’d like to know since when did Daniel Powter became the sole authority of whether or not I’m having a bad day? And—I suppose only God knows— why I’m even listening to his silly love songs…or as I’d like to call them…tear-jerking sad songs. Oh, yeah. That’s exactly what they are: tear-jerking, silly, sad songs that tug at your heart so that your brain becomes cloudy and mushy with past regrets and/or lost loves. In my opinion, I actually believe these so-called authors of these so-called “sad” songs are the devil incarnate.
And it’s not just Daniel Powter, but James Blunt also with his song of You’re Beautiful and the fact that after having said how beautiful this person he is singing to or about, in the end he still ends up exactly how he was when he first sang that song: alone and without whomever he intended said song. So, I don’t see the point as to why anyone with half a brain—or in their cases, less than half—would subject themselves and us to so much degradation and an overwhelming feeling of disappointment at the end of those songs. Oh, God! Shoot me now if that were truly my lot in life.
But if I had to compare which of these two is the more evil, well…that would have to be James Blunt. Not only does he pen the song You’re Beautiful which does not end very well for him, but he also—without so much as a thought—pens Goodbye my Lover. I mean…what the fukc is that? Does this former officer of the British Royal Marine..not entirely sure of that bit of info...have a need for self punishment? Is his life really reflective of what he sings about? I should hope not. I wouldn’t, couldn’t live with myself if that were reflective of mine. Actually, I’d prefer a quick death with a bullet than a slow, excruciatingly painful death if he truly does write from experience.
I just don’t see how he could go on, actually. I know I couldn’t. I suppose to some, these “types” of songs are a necessity, for whatever reasons they are however escapes me. Can you imagine having had a crushing blow to your already fragile heart by some scheming b*tch then cause it further pain by listening to these pain-in-my-ass songs. I guess one would call it human nature. Well, fukc that! Human nature or not, I see nothing natural in wanting to continue wallowing in misery and melancholy because you feel slighted by some whore-mongering chicky-poo.
If you want to feel pain…do what the Roman nobles did when they’ve been dishonored and the only way to ever recover some small dignity left is to fill the bath, have a glass of wine, and then slit your wrist.
Just my thoughts, really.
Originally posted by Fëanor
you're too kind Amber. 😊
Originally posted by Fëanor
thanks guys...but really, that's not what happened to me. i wrote that after talking with Jake and his little problem aka Nunyah on the phone for almost damn near two hours as we drank our virtual beers. so i reflected on how he must've felt. lets just say without going into too much detail: he got married...got divorced. sad.
Originally posted by Fëanor
[b]Okay…I’d like to KnowI’d like to know since when did Daniel Powter became the sole authority of whether or not I’m having a bad day? And—I suppose only God knows— why I’m even listening to his silly love songs…or as I’d like to call them…tear-jerking sad songs. Oh, yeah. That’s exactly what they are: tear-jerking, silly, sad songs that tug at your heart so that your brain becomes cloudy and mushy with past regrets and/or lost loves. In my opinion, I actually believe these so-called authors of these so-called “sad” songs are the devil incarnate.
And it’s not just Daniel Powter, but James Blunt also with his song of You’re Beautiful and the fact that after having said how beautiful this person he is singing to or about, in the end he still ends up exactly how he was when he first sang that song: alone and without whomever he intended said song. So, I don’t see the point as to why anyone with half a brain—or in their cases, less than half—would subject themselves and us to so much degradation and an overwhelming feeling of disappointment at the end of those songs. Oh, God! Shoot me now if that were truly my lot in life.
But if I had to compare which of these two is the more evil, well…that would have to be James Blunt. Not only does he pen the song You’re Beautiful which does not end very well for him, but he also—without so much as a thought—pens Goodbye my Lover. I mean…what the fukc is that? Does this former officer of the British Royal Marine..not entirely sure of that bit of info...have a need for self punishment? Is his life really reflective of what he sings about? I should hope not. I wouldn’t, couldn’t live with myself if that were reflective of mine. Actually, I’d prefer a quick death with a bullet than a slow, excruciatingly painful death if he truly does write from experience.
I just don’t see how he could go on, actually. I know I couldn’t. I suppose to some, these “types” of songs are a necessity, for whatever reasons they are however escapes me. Can you imagine having had a crushing blow to your already fragile heart by some scheming b*tch then cause it further pain by listening to these pain-in-my-ass songs. I guess one would call it human nature. Well, fukc that! Human nature or not, I see nothing natural in wanting to continue wallowing in misery and melancholy because you feel slighted by some whore-mongering chicky-poo.
If you want to feel pain…do what the Roman nobles did when they’ve been dishonored and the only way to ever recover some small dignity left is to fill the bath, have a glass of wine, and then slit your wrist.
Just my thoughts, really. [/B]
Originally posted by Coldfireyeah it was. but he's fine with it. but i'm on my way today to see him. he's coming back to LA and wants to do a road trip with me.
anytime hun 😊That's horrible!! cry
Well... sad to say, but those are exactly the sort of songs I love to listen to when I'm horrible depressed or heart-broken... like slamming the dagger even deeper, so why do I do it? I have no idea.
Assumptions: 1. something that is believed to be true without proof. 2. taking something upon yourself
According to the Encarta Dictionary; yet…according to someone who once said: “Never assume anything, because then you’ll make an ass of you and me.”
Sound advice? Quite possibly. The thing is; a lot of people make assumptions about things they know nothing about. Once, I assumed that a girl I had feelings for had the same feelings for me. Damn, was I wrong. Never assume anything, because all you’ll get out of that is a whole lot of nothing. And that’s exactly what I got: nothing. And not just with people of the opposite sex. It could be jobs. I once assumed I wouldn’t get this job after I had applied for it and got an interview because I hadn’t heard a thing from them.
Well, common sense should have told me to call and inquire about it; instead…I went and smoked some goooood weed. Next day I get a call for a drug test. Need I go on about that one? Never assume anything. It doesn’t end there. Having had a few drug tests before, I assumed they would have me urinate in a cup, since that’s what I did the last time I had a drug test. I told my friend about it and he had a solution. He would urinate for me. No. Not take the test in my place, but he’d go in a bag and, with a special warming belt to keep the urine at body temperature, I’d hide the bag deep in my pockets, so that when it came time for me to do said procedure, I’d pour the contents of the bag into the special cup and leave it at that.
Sadly, for me, the test turned to be a swab test. It’s new and accurate. Yeah. Never assume anything.