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Isabel Dec 2018
"Everyone wants happiness. No one wants pain. But you can't have a rainbow without a little rain."

Spread your wings and let's fly,
Can't reach those dreams it is so high,
What to do know?,
Let's smile and end this pain together.

We are each one's cause of euphoria,
Smile like there's no tomorrow,
Why are you full of sorrow?,
Why sudden change of emotions?,
Are you not happy?.

Look at the sky,
Don't be shy,
I know you've been waiting for it,
Don't always look on the ground,
You're not too low to look on it,
Feel free to look high,
And exprience the feeling of being on the top.

Imagine the things that you want that others can't imagine to you,
Your life doesn't depend on them,
It depends on you,
You are the only one who can decide,
Your life doesn't belong to them.

If it rains,
Accept it,
Don't blame the weather,
Don't blame yourself,
It's not your fault,
You just don't know on how to love yourself.

All of this are connected,
Don't ask and you'll be headed,
It is not time for your assumptions,
Why predict someone else's life if you can't even predict your own life.

Shut up and enjoy your life,
Have fun tonight,
Coz the next day what if there would be no more light to be seen,
Sun that brighten up your day,
Darkness that guided your life,
Who are you?

Sentences that are out of context,
What will happen next,
Shadows that are getting even more darker.
Coz there's a light,
A beaming spotlight.

Be the person you want to be,
Shout and tell them let me be,
Freed yourself from sadness,
Let go of your blindness,
And then there's happiness.

Don't pretend that you're okay,
Coz you'll end up hating yourself over
and over again,
Life is about up's and down,
Deal with it and tell the future that
you're going to be fine and pass all of this failure you've done this present.

Sunshine comes to
all who feel rain,
Rainbow can't show up
if there's no little rain,
Learn to stand up,
and you'll be okay.

Don't be pushed by your problems;
be led by your dreams.
I made this as a birthday present for my friend since she migrated and already live in LA and I'm left here in my country which is located in Southeast Asia which I'm not going to mention hehehe
Serenity Marine Sep 2015
Forgiving of your sins.
Fills you with his fire of happiness
Warms you up with his fire.
Slammed by the holy spirit
Makes you want more of his fire.
So intense that you will cry of happiness.
Glad to feel God is around you.
His presents is lovely and peaceful.
We are sinners, but he loves everyone.
He forgives you of your sins when you ask for forgiveness.
He is listening to you when you pray.

I have probably with guys.
God knew what I go through when it comes to guys. He said to me " You aren't suppose to earn a guys heart, the guy has to earn your heart* and God is with you and will help you if in the need. *He will guide you in the right direction
I'm not one to talk about religion but I just wanted to share my story.
TheSanguinary Oct 2019
I had hope that the sun will shine
I had hope that the dawn will come
I thought i had a chance
brighter days will come they say
I had faith that it was my time
But some how i lost it all in an instant

I never wanted to hurt
"If i had thought my wrds through "
My mind tells me
But once spilt, you cant recollect it
Cant take back wat i said
But it wasnt out of spite
I guess i get to exprience another dusk be4 a dawn

Im tired of being in the dark
Waitn for dawn so i can see wats in my head and wats real.
For my nightmares walk free in the dark
And my head filled with fantasies
I want it to come .....
My mind is falling apart
My heart losing heat
I feel cold
I just cant wait for dawn

Constantly seeking a place to hide
Trying to cover up my mistakes with more mistakes
I keep coming back to my past
Both in mind and matter
A pitch black maze
I'm failing to navigate
Doing this and doing that
A pain that pills and potions can't solve
A hole that alcohol and drugs can't fill
I need a new light
I need dawn.....
I wanna wake up tomorrow
And live a new day
Have u ever wanted something or someone so bad..... but you just cant reach
My dream,all um dreaming  about, the one um dreaming about,the vission i have,the future i still picture..will all be gone  my future ,the person i wanna be, the career ,the goal i wanna archive will soon be gone away from me when i die um afraid of death.....               My enemy will laugh an rejoice while my love ones will cry an say "ferwell we will mit again"  who i am and what i am will soon be for nothing..the good that i have done and the bad that i have done will soon be for nothing...my experiance of both will soon die with me,,,,my family and friends will soon be fillfull with blood tears..soon i will be forgetten as the earth get ride of me an put me under its ground where my body will be eaten by worms while my spirit will remain to the lord,,an the lord will look at me an smile from his golden throne an will say to me ""my child this is eternity an i promize you that today life in earth is past but here it start anew,,,the lord will welcome me an keep me in his arms an give me his special care an say you are welcome to your new home an my heart will heal from the pain of the earth,,and oh if i will still have it,the pain of losing the one i love,,,but the day i will die it will be my great life exprience an no more pain ,my soul will be at peace while my body will be at pieces but i will look at you and say *why cry when a soul is set free an put to rest fortunatly you wont hear me  others will be singular without me but once they forgettern about me their lives will be simplicity..so i dont wanna die so young
#crying# BBMbata
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2018
sado-masochism is not a rigid term,
it can easily be flipped
onto its head
and become maso-sadism...
well...
at least masochists
and sadists have evolved
nerve-endings,
and can differentiate
while at the same time
integrate
    an antonym grey area
of pain, and pleasure...
psychopaths,
              who exprience
a non-differentiated-integral
experience...
apathy breeds no pathology...
with atheism there is no god;
apathy breeds no pathology...
apathy and the wild beast,
unlike the *******
who you could cage,
unlike the sadist
who you could cage...
stereotype...
   a psychopath and the blank,
canvas, the liar detector
and the murmuring fizz of
static flatline...
    maso-sadism...
the pleasure in pain inflicted,
countered by the moral
pain experienced by
an individual, adhering
to "the" collective,
sado-masochists are bugs...
a maso-sadist
mingles with the psychopath
on the ground of:
the 99% materialistic certainty,
torture by: the pathology
of the existence of a soul,
per se...
           a sado-******* doesn't
possess the inversion of
sadism...
              which might be done
unto them...
                the ridicule surrounding
the mea culpa mantra
  of: hurting others translates
as also hurting yourself
falls on death ears...
a maso-sadist, enjoys
the pain inflicted...
because the sadism he sees
is attired in the subtlety
of non-physicality...
the only theatre where moral
conundrums take place...
moral pain, guilt...
           immobility of social
stature...
             personal guilt...
sado-masochists are pathetic
in that... they are trivial...
in their cul d sac mentality...
who, if the roles be reversed...
cannot play the role
of the *******...
      but, like the sadism allows...
the helpless, victim...
first comes the Eden
of self-inflicted pain,
or rather, allowing it from the other...
only once this threshold is
filled to the brim...
comes the theatrical
shunning of memory...
leaving the grotesque
   mechanisation of imagination
take over.
    unless you haven't been
in hospital, cheery,
watching the moral banquet
take place, watching intact
bodies, but tortured souls
ever so briefly,  by a void
of where thinking ought to
be fixed...
         maso-sadism
is a pleasure from pain...
   and a sadism...
    of watching people...
self-impose torture on themselves...
with nothing but a chance
predicament of an object...
           that, in their mind,
will never be a subject
to counter their objectness...
a wholly staged industrialised
moment...
                because you will bypass that,
without ushering in ridicule,
next time you go to the supermarket,
and read a cashier's name tag?
      subtle sadism in a *******'s
eye...
            the helpless Samaritan...
a sleeping good-willingness...
                        much more...
to see in someone an inability to help,
a frozen immediacy of
potential mingled with impotency...
like I said, sado-masochists
are leeches, cockroaches...
who needs torture and primitive
tools to exhume screaming...
when you can peer into
the elaborate torture of
a murmuring soul?
ARI Dec 2013
Her wish for life,
A simply beautiful world.
She asked for love,
Never perfection.

To exprience the world,
Slow to settle.

Her time to change,
To live as if life,
were ageless.

-ARI
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2018
a small town, inexhaustible,
somehow far from mundane,
a predictable spring followed
by a predictable summer,
and yet nature, per se,
never really allows man
a mortal fascination with it,
a mortal by that I mean,
enclosed in replicas and analogues,
with an extinguishable "self"
to boot, as if in every democracy,
one vote, one life,
the end.

                   not some mystical
ever after,
    either the materialistic
absolute, or the other,
materialistic absolute,
                   if latin could invite
itself into the schools among
which sit Tao, Zen and others...
well, drop the prefix hyphen
and call it Re...

               trill of the tongue
that begat Sisyphus who:
     not having a jailor sit and
with pitchfork nagging...
         somehow... didn't roll the stone
aimlessly...
       but, simply,
sat there, less in love with anything
that might be peered at in a lake,
and more, or less,
       a hole that his "self"
       needed to fill...

                            interchangeable
ad infinitum of:
    cube through a square hole,
square hole with a cube in tow..
cube square hole, cube square hole...
trig. meaning either
from up, to down...

      or, or at least then...
offshoot, in life through and in
death, also through...
     two schools of thought:

1. man stands above nature,
2. man stands beside nature...

comes the audacious first,
with its
Manhattan Project,
     and with Hurricane Katrina
and the fact that lighting is yet
to be harnessed, and... farmed...

   comes the awe-stricken
second, with its naturalists
and... nature without man
will run its course...

   unappreciated,
     it diminishes, is even robbed,
no sooner the suffocating
murmur of prayer,
as soon enough,
           the caged bird prays
an indistinguishable song
to the song beneath
the watchful eyes of hawks...

   yet this is but a small town,
inexhaustible,
and by that I mean:
   the pen is always dry,
the muse is always shackled
    and stands mute,
    th conversations are always
less and more a pity on
an urban chance meeting,
the book is never written,
the pen is always used as rather
a tennis racket in a game of
crosswords...

         and a deep fascination
comes across between a youth
and an old man...
     on the lines of:
myopia - shortsightedness
     and utopia - hyperopia -
farsightedness...
          for the old man sees
a graveyard, as a murky lake
of grey, in the distance
the indistinguishable corrections
of detail...

     without his glasses...
but as he puts them on,
the murky lake of grey becomes
distinct in detail, crosses and tombstones...
         what of the distance?
far away and blurry in zebra
camouflage...
        two-dimensional details
in an otherwise tree-dimensional
yawn...

               optic corrector:
no, not a confusion on my part,
nearing age 80,
    he has both myopia    
   and hyperopia,
namely his reading glasses
    and his: walking around the town
glasses: to add to the details:
that's not cascade:
i. e. respectively.
      
Myopia glasses, id est:
   details in the distance
   culminating in shadows
of trees at noon.
  
Hyperopia glasses, id est:
          details on a piece of
paper, reading.

the inability to convey
an illusion of distance,
or rather the mind, cutting
corners,
    since it was possible for
the early game programmers
to trap a two-dimensional
fern in the first tomb raider
game...

   you would walk up to
the 2D object, and it would rotate
on an axis, very much akin
to the observed and the unobserved
electron...
          
    which, to me, is a bit like
discussing black holes...
    a two-dimensional object
in a tree-dimensional space...
     when observed behaving like
an atom...
     when unobserved behaving
like a wave...
or rather, to muddle,
and craft my own Pavlov exprience
in the watering eye...
    
    through the grey lake mass of
the graveyard... in the distance
no differing contorts but:
Monet... Monet...
    the old man speaks of ills,
hiding the achievements of old age,
a seated life,
   as if: no one likes
the man who doesn't leave
an enigma of some sort...
          
does cancer plague the soft tissued
organs? when mistletoe,
in symbiosis with bark bone of trees
can thrive in the winter sun,
minimally exhausting the tree
in its seasonal coma?

   old man cynic and
the woe of old age...
     but before the story of Judas
and H'eh Zeus (in Spain)...
   came the story of -
   the old man and the sea
(according to Monet)
;

  old man cynic,
on the rare occasion that the old
are disabled like children
at birth...
  while in most instances,
the privilege of old age
makes them in turn
into born again children...
         but unlike children a priori,
these a posteriori children
are... outside being convincing...
     in at leat some,
of their exaggerations.
Totally we don't exprience
The world has created
And the world we role on
Doubts with no reason
Devils without shamless
How often do we meet our world
To advanture
To enjoy
To leave ourselves
Mateuš Conrad May 2018
no, not really; wise man said ****, the rest just followed cry wolf.*

is there any reiteration within the confines of citing a ditto? non exemplum, non gratis... the few who have gained exprience, rarely allow themselves the grieving man's take on fortune, of monopolising on a delay... or rather: maxims are written with a pinch of hindsight, rather than a mountain's worth of impetus to succumb to replica: in misendeavour.
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2019
it might have been a naked body
with a *******,
i could have faked being a butcher
logging a pig's torso,
never giving into entombing
my heart in the body of another,
but i just left the whole
interaction only puddle deep...
  ****: i almost wrote poodle...
anyway...
               i like that,
reciprocrated objectification,
  i much like that...
                 whenever i am to posit
myself as a subject...
i switch off...
             it almost felt like petting
a dog...
    it's not like you're even thinking
about ******* the poor thing,
which is nice,
after all, she said i was nice...
          the moment you forget
your genitals because of
untrimmed ***** afro:
the same **** that's on your face's
worth of a beard...
     well... the "game" is to kiss
a *******...
            but all the current subject
matters encompassing
an object of desire?
                     mine-field...
                     the "quick" and "easy"
fix...
          what, and the blank pixel screen
is not an outlet
of compensation?
i like it when i go to the supermarket
for my daily "fix"
of a liter of whiskey...
            i figured...
why not stage polite,
why not keep to manners?
like today...
           this cashier at
the self-chasier robotic aisle...
she still has to
    tend to you when you're
buying tagged goods,
like alcohol...
                  she drops her keys,
i beat her to it picking them up...
and "all i get in return"
    are the words...
thanks darling, thanks babe...
        how many shoppers
say goodnight to
the supermarket cashiers?
           i say my goodnight...
more darling and babe
fly my way off the surf of the tongue
from her tongue...
        of course i'm no standard
good... 1 liter of whiskey
per night?
        but i do know something
surrounding the practice of
social etiquette...
                personally...
i don't like it when people
put people "in their place"
surrounding low skilled employment...
i don't like it,
              simply put:
it ****** me off...
             i don't really want to feed
feeding a superiority complex
of some bureaucratic hack
akin to sargon of akkad
   breaking away from a call-centre;
here's the same reaction:
                        but in slow-motion.
it doesn't take much
to orientate yourself around
general, banal, manners...
         whenever i get a chance
to keep a door open for a woman
i'm either to exprience
a simple thank you...
or stunted growth
   zombie-apathy syndrome of mute...
and for me...
that's just so much more than
some monotheistic religiosity
of posturing during prayer...
lunatics or what?
   if not a ******* position
of christianity,
   then ******* of Islam...
or Judaism: with its standing up
moshing while standing in one place...
every, single, interaction,
is, a variant of prayer...
     and each time i buckle...
like buddhism states:
back to square one...
   begin once again from point 0, 0, 0,
triple negation...
              just keeping it simple,
keeping it sweet...
          there's no need to complicate
such a simple interaction
with a supermarket cashier
as to allow an escalation matrix
that only translates into
     an affair of over-blown proportions...
that whole star of david
     dissonance...
         you know what that looks like?
              Δ (delta)         /     ∇(nabla)
see the dynamic?
           pyramid - hierarchy to the top...
the one at the top of the hierarchies...
and then?
            well: democratic plateau on top...
but... i'm seeing something
bothersome...
            the invisible authoritarian
throng picking off
   the "little pharaohs"...
                    there are no pharaohs
in the nabla dynamic,
just a disorientated sense, of a missing
congregational dynamic,
  just one tier of the whole structure's
dynamic...
                     this whole
dyktando / rubric
                          of the perfectly suited
people for their tier...
          the star of david inversion (Δ∇)
doesn't really work with
the outliers...
the sort of people who do not fit
into the handy tier-by-tier
   variation of staccato accenting /
insinuating "truth"...
                       self-help gurus are
                                      not going to help...
i was deadlocked into giving
attention to one, one too many
to begin with...
   i avoided self-help books
like the plague...
i guess: i'll have to continue this
fetish for fake hope.

— The End —