Cari - ProfilesArchive

About Me

We're twisting vines within a vineyard integration of not belonging and miscommunication. Strangled by our own insecurities we crawl further into the confusion that ripens within the vines. Taking root so deep within, that we're blinded from simplicity and willingly let complications engulf us. Writhing and screaming, begging for release, some of us will never just willingly be ceased. Impaled on thorns growing from rejection so many trapped free wills are forced to decease within the multitudes of imposed conformities.Individualism is the myth that leads to everywhere everyone has already been. It is the gamble of 'am I original' with the small font at the bottom reminding you 'the casino always wins'. Every day is the only day of that kind and can never be lived again yet everyday is lived in the way every other day has been lived. And that will never change. Time is the giver of hopefully change and humanity is the fearful keeper of monotony.
Inconsideration is the motto. 'Self' takes preference over empathy. This is a callous age of assumptions that encourage vain first hand opinionated presumptions. These presumptions are what plant the seeds of the vines that grow stead fast, nourished more and more by fallacious spoon fed beliefs.Acceptance is our only option in the end... accept we are cornered and will never truly be anything but trapped within the vines of society.
My sanity, moistened by doubt, slips through my fingers like wet sand. It glides to places I fear to venture, leaving my fingers lubricated with regret. I clench my fingers in frustration. To form a fist representing a futile attempt to grip at my remaining grains of sanity. Yet it dwindles further, pouring from me as if we were like polarities, once forced together, now scattering further apart. The receding sanity drips into puddles of nostalgia that I seem to forget feeling. A mist of desire rises from the accumulating puddles, lingering around me, brewing into a mob of frustration. Desire mocks me with whispers of self loathing. I seem to forget the places I once wanted to reach, prodding through seconds aimlessly using minutes as a goal and hours as the dream I want to eventually reach. Then months pass in blinks and nothing changed, everything remains stagnant. The same things repeat again, creating the false sense of de ja vu, when it has only been the realisation of repetition. And I remember that I am still clenching my fist to cling to sanity, but it's becoming frivolous. Insanity seems so inviting when all you have left is a moisture that represents what you once were.
I sit.
I stare.
The wind catches my hair and pulls it, using me as a weather vane, navigating my glance towards the life that seems to be passing me by.
Again the wind blows, pushes against me, tugging at my jersey to make me move.
But I just sit. Drained.
Loneliness has gripped me. It has positioned itself like a plastic packet over my head waiting to be tightened. Suffocating me from hope. The claustrophobic depression settles around me. I try fight it, but I cannot get away from the shadow of helplessness.
A dark figure comes to my side, sits next to me, uncomfortably close. He blows smoke against my left cheek, awakening an old nicotine craving.
"It's been a while." Says Doubt. And he takes a deep drag from a cheap cigarette.
"Yes it has." I say, trying not to let my eyes betray me. Staring blankly in front of me.
"Want one?" Doubt offers me a cigarette from an empty cigarette box.
"There's none left."
"Symbolic don't you think?" Doubt flashes a cat's grin and winks as he lifts the cigarette box.
I read the writing on the box aloud, "Hope."
Doubt laughs, "I'm back baby, did you miss me?"

OTEP -"BREED"
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These are pictures of the Durban Harbor in Kwa-Zulu Natal in South Africa which I took in 2005.

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Short Story 3 - Insignificant

She sat there, her eyes averting me and I could feel the muscles around my heart tense. Thoughts in my head race, how did we get here? Why are we here? Is this my fault? My mind slips away fo...
Posted by Cari on Wed, 02 Apr 2008 03:25:00 PST

Short Story 2 - Purpose

His eyes are painfully dry. He has been sitting there and waiting with a fanatic's patience, staring entranced at a root creeping out the earth. She's late and he's too dependant on her arrival t...
Posted by Cari on Sun, 06 Jan 2008 01:25:00 PST

Scribble 6 - Vines of Conformity

Scribble 5 - Bitterness of Hate

She's holding on to the edge of sanity by her finger tips. Her fingers are slipping. Her strength is fading. And the endless pit of insanity seems all that awaits her. She cries out, pleading for...
Posted by Cari on Thu, 03 Jan 2008 11:41:00 PST

Short Story 1 - The Drive

He drives down a desolate outer city street barely illuminated by the far apart scattered lamp posts. The air is chill and crisp with the revving engine gruffly humming into the night sky. His spe...
Posted by Cari on Thu, 03 Jan 2008 11:38:00 PST

Scribble 4 - Helpless

I am sitting in a place I do not know. I am surrounded by people I do not know. All the people I do not know in the place I do not know are speaking a language I do not know. And I do not know what I...
Posted by Cari on Thu, 03 Jan 2008 11:37:00 PST

Scribble 3 - Ilusion and Delusion

Illusion took a seat on a loaf of bread, on a sidewalk leading to nowhere. From somewhere Delusion strays with a pace of no time. "Hello stranger! What brings you here?" says Illusion to Delusion. ...
Posted by Cari on Thu, 03 Jan 2008 11:35:00 PST

Scribble 2 - Sanity

My sanity, moistened by doubt, slips through my fingers like wet sand. It glides to places I fear to venture, leaving my fingers lubricated with regret. I clench my fingers in frustration. To form a ...
Posted by Cari on Thu, 03 Jan 2008 11:34:00 PST

Scribble 1 - Doubt

I sit. I stare. The wind catches my hair and pulls it, using me as a weather vane, navigating my glance towards the life that seems to be passing me by. Again the wind blows, pushes against me, tu...
Posted by Cari on Thu, 03 Jan 2008 11:33:00 PST