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9404257

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About Me


I have battled on the brink of breakdown and stood in vivid victory on its ashes.
I have sung the Siren Starvation’s song.
Its sultry timber soothed my sorrows as my soul sipped desperately at Never
Enough’s empty cup.
At the edge of Perfection’s impossible precipice I fell feigning forbearance.
Pain was the fierce weapon I fought with for freedom from Fear, from Fate; but it was .. Pain that fettered me to my Fated Fear.
As a child I closed my eyes as I sought to see Life’s Sickened Secrets but I had no ..courage to see the sights so 'gainst my will I felt them instead.
And oh how I felt!
With cracking crags of courage less cries the bleeding walls welled with wordless depth
and woe.
I, in desperate defiance denied Emotion’s distinction by dining and dueling with Death.
This I have done
These I have been
These have torn me down
From This that I could be,
have been,
am,
can be.
With bleeding nails and banished breath I broke my stubborn backbone.
Bearing my open breast to Emotion’s battle, and
on the brink of breakdown I stood in vivid victory on its ashes!
The ashes of “IT” the It that is….
The Siren Starvation,
The ever Never Enough,
The fierce Fetters of Pain,
The sickened Secrets of life,
The Crags courage less cries
The dining, the dueling with Death
The That I wasn’t to be, the This I wish to be, These that burn in me, all This that
I am

I stand upon the ashes of my broken past chest bared, bleeding heart, and trembling breath. It is here I stand now, damaged. Not as much upon these ashes but of these ashes born from, raised within and standing on the ashes which are the This the That the These the Things I am. The battle has just begun to create life from ash so that one day I can say on the brink of breakdown I stood in vivid victory on ITs ashes!Premade MySpace Layouts by Iron Spider

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My Blog

Did you know you could?

Do you know?  Know the place?  The place you brought me to?  The place I felt you and only you? Do you know?  The place you stripped me of safety? Do you know the home you drew me ...
Posted by on Sun, 24 Aug 2008 02:41:00 GMT

Creeping Home

When the sadness creeps in& Reason seeps out.When the sadness creeps in& Passion burns cold.When the sadness creeps in&Failure cuts hope.When the sadness creeps in&I am home& again.
Posted by on Fri, 22 Aug 2008 06:50:00 GMT

It was in....

    Was it was somewhere in the chair she made that she used at dinner? Or in the wind as it turned her inside, where she had all the answers and asked him the questions she did ...
Posted by on Mon, 09 Jun 2008 05:16:00 GMT

The binding tie

It occurs to me that friendships are conditional.  Not a new thought, but a specific angle of this thought has become more apparent lately.   It is not who we are as people that will ma...
Posted by on Thu, 29 May 2008 01:31:00 GMT

"I wanna fuk you so bad!"

 I don't know why I expected photographers to be any different, but is it too much to ask for normal sexual harassments lines? My photographer last night said the expression I had turned him on a...
Posted by on Mon, 14 Apr 2008 01:11:00 GMT

Opression Makes Things Easy....

It occurred to me tonight, as a sat in inspired reverence watching the Russian credits roll on the film "The Lives of Others", How flaccid my deepest passions truly are.  I found myself jealous o...
Posted by on Tue, 08 Apr 2008 03:34:00 GMT

waiting...

Ah hell.  I cant sleep.  And it’s not because I’m bothered by anything, or excited, or not tired.  I am tired.  So tired my eyes water and my legs ache.  But I am ...
Posted by on Sat, 22 Mar 2008 04:59:00 GMT

who?

"Who is this body?  Who is this mind? Who is this body?  Who is this mind?"  My yoga teacher asked us in repetition as we bent, held and stretched our bodies.  The question struck ...
Posted by on Tue, 04 Mar 2008 19:17:00 GMT

The Power of Thought

  My best friend Ninja was telling me tonight that she once read a book that was talking about stunt drivers.  They where doing an exercise where they would be driving and the instructor wo...
Posted by on Sat, 09 Feb 2008 02:50:00 GMT

journeying

Page after page of writing stains my computer's constant thought and will to write to drive to bear forth my thought and my will.    What?  What am I saying?  What am I ever say...
Posted by on Wed, 30 Jan 2008 03:35:00 GMT