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Mateuš Conrad Nov 2018
.chris rea: god's great banana skin...

/ such random thoughts are a blessing, esp. after you've been walking for over 2 miles, in the cold and in the rain, with the setting sun... continually impressed by the nature of polyester clothing, how you feel the cold, but aren't cold at all, how you go back home and: you're dripping with sweat... /

the random thought?
about a saying, here's the schematic

synthetic a priori

                    4 + 6 = 10
                    IV + VI = X

                                         analytical a posteriori

which statement is true?
within the questioning parameters?
i think it's a trick question...
how else would you be able to
teach these statements and make
replica understandings of
said, statements?

(****... quickfire shots of syrupy
*****... **** me... give me the sweats,
and i'm not even constipated,
it must be the ***** doing
the magic... yeah... sober me?
doesn't like thinking...
but oddly enough, the drunk me?
pulls out philosophy,
no, not as some pretentious
high-brow interest...
   i just looked at philosophy as
a genre in literature,
nothing more)...

numbers, like letters...
or in the case of Roman numerals
(letters are numbers)...
i'm unsure whether you can arrive
at crafting them into existence
by analytical parameters,
i don't actually think
that you can conjure up numbers
from analyzing a priori,
given the ad continuum:
but... there was a point in time,
when / where: numbers weren't used...

Kant was a theist,
sorry...
  he says it plainly at the end
of his critique of pure reason...
in the transcendental methodology...
sure... he takes a "schizophrenic"
moment to write a thesis
and an antithesis on subjects like
cosmology...
but he's inclined, as i am,
counter to an atheist...
yes... god is probably a monster...
but a ******* gorgeous monster...
kinda like a femme fatale...
so what's not to like?

    but this thought didn't arrive
randomly,
and my consciousness
didn't hone in on it...
i didn't vector this thought
to an immediate conclusion...
the thought arrived,
and then: i had to make shrapnel
out of it...
the original thought was complex,
i had to make shrapnel out of it,
in order to put it back together,
so that a cognitive 3 seconds
could be rewritten in under 30 minutes
explaining, why the thought arose...

you know... when thinking
is detached from the moral (θ)-ought
you get to experience these "things"...
here's another schematic...

I + Φ (you put a key into a lock),
   Θ (you turn the key), O (the door opens),
hey presto... a free radical iota...
detached from both phi and theta...

i am free from making
a moral ought (i) or the immoral: ought (i) not?
i'm free, hence my concern for...
abstract questions...

back to the original schematic...

synthetic a priori

                    4 + 6 = 10
                    IV + VI = X

                                         analytical a posteriori

this actually has a theological
dimension,
supposing i am god...

   if i propose an analytical a priori
with a synthetic a posteriori...
well then...
             i can't change anything,
i can't actually make changes to...
with my omnipotence,
omniscience etc.
i already analyzed, a priori
the Kantian elevation to theology
comes, via me, stating...
if i analyzed the entirety of
creation...
            a priori ex nihil
(from the prior out of nothing)
how can i make a synthesis
in the a posteriori domain,
of the already existing things,
which didn't exist a priori,
since there was nothing,
and i already analyzed the potential
of nothing, and this potential
was realized as everything i would
know to exist... and i went along
with it anyway?

i'm starting to think that
the realm of analytical a priori
doesn't exist for mortals...
the gods can muse this ****-show
of a dimension over and over again...
we're more (being mortals)
synthetic a posteriori...
oh don't get me wrong,
i believe we have the capacity
to comprehend analytical a priori
but it's an analytical a- priori...
we've reached the limits
of the microscope, the telescope,
and the hadron collider...
or on our way to exhaust that...
still being left with an intact mesh of...
the orbits... summer, winter, autumn, spring...
but this thing with this schematic:

synthetic a priori

                    4 + 6 = 10
                    IV + VI = X

                                         analytical a posteriori

how can i conjure an understanding
of IV + VI = X...
analytically a priori...
when... i have no hindsight /
prior to understanding of said rubric?
well... with Roman you could say:
analytical a priori,
given the Ancient Romans already
had the letters I, V, X...
but... if you didn't have the concept
of measurements prior,
of arithmetic...
how can you analyze something...
that doesn't exist?
so... you had to synthesize a priori,
working from the letters I, V, X...
to conjure up "numbers"...
  numerals... you had to create these
numbers by a synthetic a posteriori
method...
and the 4 + 6 = 10...
        well... you analyzed the a posteriori
synthesis, and threw I, V, X out...
and began the second wave of mathematics...
and this is where, authentically...
analytical a priori comes from...
based on I (1), V (5), X (10)...
                    came IV (4), came VI (6)...
don't mathematicians treat their language
as that of or equivalent to the gods?

now... for the cultural exchange program
that i promised...

on the great British isles...
you have a variety of languages
& dialects,
i'm so sorry that the Scottish
"forgot theirs"...

but when you have something
akin to

English: red
Cymru: coch

or right... they have their Pict
Gael?

Pict Gaelic: dearg
Irish: dearg
Cornish: rudh

we'll require a second word...
what word, what words..
life!

English: life,
Cymru: bywyd
Pict Gaelic: beatha
Irish: saol
Cornish: bewnans...

back, "home"...
we also have sub-groups
in terms of linguistics...

there are the Kashubians...
and there are the Silesians,
and, there are...
the Kurpie...
akin the Welsh, the Pict,
the Ire,

and their language looks like so...
again, borrowing from
red and life...

Polak: czerń
Kashubian: czôrny...
  but that can be disputed...
why?
     czerwień is not actually
a noun, but an adjective...
a quality of being associated with red...
czerwony? that's a male
adjective...
   and the female adjective
is czerwona...
                ****...
a color has to be something...
the noun adjective that's blood...
Polak: krwawy (czerwony)
Kashubian: czerwiony
Silesian: čerwůny
ah...
   Kurpian... high polish?
Masovian?
harder to find the words...
have to use alternatives...

Kurpian: caban
Polak: tępak
Kashubian: osoł
  Silesian: yjzel...
(idiot, imbecile)

you know how hard hard it is
to find a Kurpian to Polak
translator?
i can't find one to boil down
to the examples or either
red or life,
i'm reduced to choosing other
words...
like...

   Kurpian: chwat...
Polak: chłopak
Silesian: bajtel
Kashubian: knôp...
(boy)

Kurpian: jédło
Polak: jedzenie...
Kashubian: jedzenié
alternative to Silesian:
  jadło, i.e.: it ate...
past-participle in
the verb...
let's see what the Silesians
call it...
Silesians: well.. a variation..
chlyb
godka
mietła
masa... all things you can eat...
(edible food)

only a word, like the Kurpian
word akin to kotnå
reveals that Vikings passed via "us"...
kotnå?
  an impregnated sheep...
with young...

Kurpian: łańï truń!
Polak: nie mów!
Kashubian: ni gôdac!
Silesian: ńy godka!
(don't speak!)

mind you... Kurpian translation
is hard to find...
and you almost wonder...
at the British isles...
you think, us, Polaks...
do not have sub-linguistic groups
in our ranks,
like your Welsh, your Pict,
your Irish?!
guess again...
you had them all along...
and you thought...
the Polaks were
a homogenous culture...
all this time...
primarily because our culture
wasn't multicultural...
oh but it was... but on the subtle side
of history...
mind you...
defenders of the galaxy?
i knew gamora wasn't white...
but... **** me...
even if black or hispanic...
she looked so **** attired in green...
i was thinking:
absinthe cherub, absinthe cherub...
and forgot about glorifying
Zoe Saldana in all that choc...
what?
   a green skinned chic?
                    if i can forget about
the existence of chocolate...
i'll just anything that moves...
but i knew she wasn't white...
i hate chocolate...
          give me an absinthe girl any
day of the week...
       yeah...
only the English have complex
ethnicity encompassing
a single language...
only the English...
                 like **** they are...
at least my linguistic variation
is suited to a bundle of words...
Welsh?! Gaelic?!
  completely different languages...
at least in my part of the world
all that is deviating
is a choice of variant nouns!
but then again, the English
speaking world....
        how's the new pronoun
dictum coming along?
you keeping up with...
   appeasing the new crazies?
oh... you are?!
    well... kudos and applause!

p.s. guess what happens with appeasing
the new crazies... guess...
i'll tell you...
you **** around with grammar,
some grammatical pedant will raise
his head up from the crowd and say
something like:
               what?!
and then the old crazies rise up...
and... your, ahem, little discussion
about changing the rules of grammar
to "ensure" that the language is
kept, "intact"?
      see... mm... hmm... the old crazies?
the old crazies have their own
methods...
they're of the obligation:
let my gun do the talking...
  and then...
  you get pol *** arithmetic,
of skulls...
           being counted in an abacus
of heaping up, "debris"...
         see... these new crazies
are bugging me...
  they're bugging me...
because the old crazies didn't
attack grammar,
and whatever delusion they had...
i couldn't see it...
the new crazies?
they're attacking grammar,
and the delusion they have...
is... associated with something
i can see as being self-evidently untrue...

the new crazies...
******* spinners... fakers...
    i prefer the old crazies...
at least their delusions had ambitions
to deceive in the realm of
the unseen...
       the unproved, and never to be
proven...
these new crazies...
i am supposed to speak asylum talk?!
so... society is the new asylum
with the past asylums being
abolished?!
who gave caffeine to these news
crazies?!
******* sane people's naive pandering...
while the depressed man?
hey boy... hey, hey, hey boy...
noose!
i've lost all sympathy for
the victims of a psychotic
version of a repressed P.T.S.D. example...
the mad have hijacked language,
disorientated grammar...
and... b'a'ah, b'a'ah...
                 no...
                              i'm with the old
crazies...
                    at least they're the ones
that can inflict genuine grievance...
rather this policing of restricting
     the orthodoxy of the use of language.

p.s.
i found only two paradoxes in this
world...
    schadenfreude: feeding a pleasure
from the misery of others...
as...
  finding wisdom in others' own
forsake of an antithesis of
universal application...
  mainly that, associated:
            to a self-gratifying benefit...
the joke ends within the confines
of schadenfreude...
as does passable "wisdom" attached
to instragram novelty of the "maxim"
by your wisened sages
of the selfie...
  
                  i've been among the russians,
i know what the true uber looks like...
you hitchhike...
hitchhiking? forget that?
ponzie scheme albatross thingy
of a worth of a british mensch?
    funny... a people can so easily
forget the practice of hitchhiking...
so easily: entertaining individual rights...
and: innocent until proven
guilty until some next
               teddy bundy comes along...
and then it's all: ooh! ah! woo'ah!

   you know, i don't like the cartesian
chiral dynamic,
the whole: nietzsche take...
sum ergo cogito...
          i don't like the:

innocentes quoadusque (qua esse)
                           reus....    inversion...

an innocent man might hang...
well... if you have the death penalty:
too late to regurgitate the
original statements...

but? where's the element of redemption
for the innocent man?
why are so many people captivated
by the shawshank redemption?
there's a redemption story...
   in the inverted game?
a jimmy saville walks off scot-free...

the continental model doesn't make
sense with a death penalty...
but without one?
redemption... the atlas "paradox"...
one man usually burdens the fate
of a reciprocate of the unit of one...
but not the many...

me getting laid or not getting laid
is as important to me as:
whether i know about last year's
snowfall...
*** *** ***... all that sort of
******* in the western minds...
*** *** but no children!
recreational procreation without...
any procreation... to begin with...

         i'll admit...
english humour is funny...
but schadenfreude is a borrowed term...
hence the lost in translation
element...
           the english are terrible at
appreciating if not simply applying
the original zeppelin bomb...
after a while: the english just became
annoying toy-whips
of ***** replicas...
       the english knew elevated slap-stick...
with monty python...
with fawlty towers...
          they borrowed a term like
schadenfreude and completely lost the plot...
they once, upon a time,
chanced to play a game of linguistic
comedy...
            
                 i'm pretty ******* sure
the germans relate to schadenfreude in a different
way... i'm guessing:
the deutsche are not prone to ridicule as
the english are...
               the aunglisch are prone
to ridicule out of a sentiment of spite
than out of a repose for giggles...
        
          i don't understand the german sense
of humour,
     but understanding the english attempting
to "understand" the german sense of humour
is an enigma in an enigma in a per se...

such integrated back into
the ol' continental ways...
                       kudos to the brits...
bringing back the commonwealth to stereotype
us europeans with a negative "circumstance"...
now them: ******* up to "correct"
their integration policies... for the commonwealth
peoples of the united wordly wealth of
made in china plastic toys!

     a **** among the brits has
the audacity to tell a german he's not
supposed to feel at home on these isles...
sure... and i will never feel quiet at home
in Islamabad either!
               so? equal count of hubris!
that's the only thing that ****** me about
these isles... god i love this language...
but... when you get your afghani hounds
on me to do your ***** work?!

      even though i'm not: deutsche?!
i'll ******* pretend to be deutsche!
           i'm not here to mop up your failed
integration policies...
i settled on keeping my language...
they settled on keeping their sharia,
their **** pajamas and curry...
while adamantly rejecting their language...
in order to implement their desired changes
by subverting your language...
and you gave your language on a *******
platter...
    
    by subverting your language
to accept their cultural tattoos...
  let me tell you: if a people don't respect
their own culture,
by way of god, by way of language...
and they are "integrating": without speaking
their native mutterzunge?
they're not respecting either culture...
mongrels ahoy!
   what happened to the african-h'americans
not speaking a word of african?

what will they do, ascribe themselves
to ******* scots,
left with no gaelic and more a finnegans' wake
accent gymnastics of some irvine welsh?
nae for no: some glaswegian smart-***
excess of nouns?
      
hell... they would have never built
a colliseum if they saw:
1 + 4 + 6 + 9 = 20
   i.e. I + IV + VI + IX = **
            imagine... a society where letters
worked perfectly as sounds
and as arithmetic concepts of measure.

lucky for me the roman empire never
conquered
the lands i come from...
always with the brits being...
oh so so proud having been conquered
by the romans...
what's the prize... archeological sites?!

much respect as great britain...
but... *****... please...
don't pucnh below the waist...
importing your commonwealth dogs
to mark you out among all the other
europeans like some prized asset with
an inkling into h'american affairs...
thanks to you: i'm bored of looking up
the telescope of h'american ****
with their waning cultural export
of a worthwhile entertainment of appreciating
their music.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2018
the ******* conversation is
worse than no conversation
at all...

point being?

why bother, if lacking all
intricacy?
i hate acronyms...

jess glynne: right here...
or...
hasselhoff you tonight
(hold you tight tonight)...

zoe saldana...
in green?
she's not white...
Latino?
she's not black...
mulatto?!

d'uh...
what's wrong with me...
green skinned and i'm like...
tinges of lesbian feminist
librarian?!

         Ogle...
now why i would prefer
to **** a green girlie
than an Oreo?

              like one girl suggested
to me...
you're of the race that
does not have a protruding
occipital bone...

so...
why do most African
and Asian do not possess
the protruding
nasal bone?
     huh?!

you know... flat at the top,
meaning excess cartilage
at the base?
you know: gorilla sniff?
this is a two way street!

but gamora...
i can ****** well see she's not white...
but...
let's be "racist"...
i'd prefer to **** her green
than in her mulatto origin...
what?!

electric six: she's white!
you know how tremendous
brown eyes look against
a backdrop of green skin?

just like ginger hair dressing
the window-shopping mannequins
of Celtic milk-skin...

the actress is mulatto...
but me, i'm just tired of mixing
chocolates...
i feel like...
green skin... piglet shy pink boy...
let's make an avocado flesh baby!
tinged by canary-green-grape
overtones!

she's so ******* fit green...
disguising her mulatto
cocktail...
and that added feminism
pink tinged hair?
      absolutely no Afro...
you could mistake her
for a Latino...
         but i already knew:
that ***** ain't white...
and even i do not originate
from the white people with
a colonial past...

     i could succumb to
the whole trans-ethnic experiment...
by the way...
as biracial relationships go...
if her papa was a whitey...
she's going to go for a whitey
and reproduce...
guess what happens to her children?
come out from the oven
as white as silk...
and the ones who follow the route
of dating the similar ethnicity
of their mothers?
no children...

             if we're going to be so
******* anti-racial...
let's embrace the already stated
disparities entrusted to making
a post biracial choices...
the days of the originality
of bi-racialism are over...
let's call upon
regressive genes,
that, generations later
are awoken...
                
                                 no... too early?
oh, right,
how could i forget?!

these new people require
the bilinguals to be polymaths...
or to be monolingual...
and if they're not?!
well...
             schizophrenics!
schizophrenics!
                schizophrenics!

­you do know that globalization
would have worked...
if and only if...
the general population spoke
their native tongue,
and a lingua franca
was established...
given that the globalists didn't
exactly focus on establishing
a consensus lingua franca...
one year it was english,
another year it was arabic,
another it was mandarin...

hello white boy: she's green!
i'd still prefer to ****
the green ***** than than the mulatto;
what?
i'm tired of chocolate!
of the caramel and the toffee,
and the copper skin debate!
she's green... i'll just think
of a hard-on via a glass of absinthe!

and we'll make sweet avocado
babies!
after all...
i am a shy pink of a pig's skin tinge...
i am sure i can make the green
shy away, into a hints
of canary...

monolingual biracial "peoples"...
as ever... too proud to learn
a second language,
while all the more eager
to label mono-racial people
with a bilingualism trait...
"schizophrenics"...
guess... that there are mongrels
either side...
but that some of us...
abstracted the mongrel stature...
but not like you'd notice.
Joelena Saldana Jun 2015
-Joelena Saldana
12/1/14
He stares.
The beautiful man stares at me.

I look around to see if I'm not the one he wanders his eyes at,
but there is no one.

I look at my clothes, there's nothing there.
I can see his gentle caring eyes just settling on me.

I know they won't move.

Maybe he's just daydreaming.

He's so beautiful.
His lips are full, his surfer boy haircut,
he seems mysterious.

I start to stare back just witnessing his full parted lips,
his eyes glued to mine,
his somewhat muscular arms,
his incredible light hazel brown eyes.
His pierced ear.

I can see amazement,
carefree,
risk taking,
pride,
and yet humble,
artistic,
but most of all beauty in his eyes.

I wonder what he's thinking about.
What he dreams of.

His eyes move.
They scan my body.
Not perverted like,
but like something's different.

Is something wrong?
Oh, what I'd give to know what he's thinking,
what he see's,
what he dreams.

I finally ask,
"What are you staring at?"
noticing I say it softly.
He answers
"You."

I'm amazed. Astonished.

I ask without noticing,
"Why?"

In the most sweetest, gentlest, most beautiful tone, he answers once again,

"You're beautiful..."
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2019
i never write "anything"...
i'm claustrophobic when its comes to
exploring cognizance...

'wow! what a fancy word!'

i hardly beg to differ...
i hear of people fathoming the novel...
and...
i'm a monolith monstrosity...
some bourbon, some german:

ich bin gut zu gehen: ja!

spucke bourbon au zu mein gesicht!

i will never write a novel,
i deal with butchering an animal
for: ein stück von fleisch...

"a novel" und barockarchitektur:
sounds similar?

oh but it's a freel available tattoo
in the anglophonic frame of ref....
Hastings, 1066...
hard to come by when the tattoo reads...
ahem...

Tannenberg, 1410...
Vienna, 1683...

clear-cut... almost safe-net catch-em
while you can...
the Hastings folk were pagans...
don't you know?
don't you know that only white
people can be racist?

pst... ask the russians "about that"...
see what you come back with...
i will have to...
S'****** at the reply...
no... honestly: "because" it's forbidden for
us former iron curtain "roma" folk...
**** dastardly's dog: muttley... S'*******...
giggles in...
we former folk from the eisenvorhang...
coming across the californian:
siliziumvorhang?!
where are we... polacks...
hunagarians... czechs... estonians...
lithuanians... ukranians...
yugolz... at?!
we don't fit the narrative... do we?

it's the 27th of december...
and i'm "thinking"... it's mighty fine...
to celebrate something with the aestigermani!

the children of ***** sought a father...
the children of gomorrah were akin...
i do not know whether i am
a father figure or whether:
there's that pointless safety question
to mind: did i wear a ******?
i was assured! i was assured there were
contraceptive pills involved!

i'm tired on the usual steaming-heap
pile of warm ******* and ****
to give a psychoanalyst his rhetoric
elevated status of disinhibition...

cocktail! madonna's papa don't preach...
dusty springfield: son of a preacher man...
and any other formidable calypso
study of salsa... should this sugar baby
this sugar baby be my baby
and if i would never become a sugar daddy...

and because i was only ever looking
for the six oops-stones of womanhood...
infinity: eh... bag 'em one weekend...
forget 'em the next...

god... let me this one type of racist...
Jefferson keeping "green things" akin
to Zoe Saldana in some variation
of a "basement"...
i'm good with green...
use enough cumin, coriander or
cinnamon powder in your cooking...
you'll ask: what's wrong with green?
i'd **** green! i'd **** green sitting down
i'd **** green of the sort sleeping!
i'd peacock myself in many variations
of drunk to stage:
that one sober sort of **** with her
and... it's no samantha 38g and...
classics come to mind...
homer, horace... and plump models
of: extra cushions!

ha ha... i make myself laugh:
i make myself laugh because:
there's about zeo chance of me...
conjuring up a novel ambition...
me and a novel...
a "supposed" schizoid and a novel...
ha ha! Noel! Noel!

there was a time where i grew a beard for a reason:
i.e. exercise less..
grow a beard, hide the pride of a walrus
minus the harem...
double chin and the...
Zoe Saldana in green skin...
octopus fucky-fucky or what?

- never mind -

grow a beard... hide the shar pei...
i figured over time...
my beard became a giza pyramid
focus of my eyes...
it took some persuasion...
namely 4 years and my grandmother
finally pointing out:
oh look how thick it is...
she wanted to play g.i. joe with...
prior to: my hair...
like some thor meets barbier universe
dolls extravaganza...
a hard-on waiting...
with an ava lauren limp twist...

"oops".

now the beard is all about...
being 34 years old... while donning
the *** leftover skivvy look
inflating the organic body for a media
frenzy to "compenstate" it to be aged:
49!
ha ha...
i keep forgetting why i'm in such a good mood!
today is today! and i'm...
and i'm not allowing myself to succumb
to an anglophonic seriousness
of staging an elvis costello seriousness
of: everyday writing the novel...

pst: sounds better than that obvious...
"nook 'n' cranny"...

my alternatives!
minnesang - neidhart:
meie din liechter schin!

weihnachten ist erledigt!
weihnachten ist erledigt!
weihnachten ist erledigt!
weihnachten ist erledigt:
lassen uns singen!
lassen uns geben loben!
lassen uns männer verlassen
der mutterleib!

ensemble für frühe musik augsburg -
mayenzeit one neidt...

jetzt kommen der lieder:
zu gesungen! für alle das jahr!

i guess i grew a beard to hide a shar pei...
then again:
perhaps i grew a beard to pretend to
fiddle with a throng of violins?
perhaps i found growing my hair long...
i had to compensate!
i had to exfoliate in the downward
spiral and exchange...
oi! baldy! baldy!
i can juggle! i can juggle!
i can grow long hair and a beard!

but never the two at the same time!
germany and the nazis...
i just can't stiop thinking about
the lucky... those frivolous drunks
of the holy roman empire...
esp. when peering via their folk songs...
i call it: having to succumb to
english prune and pristine pressures...
even these days...
being wholy saxon is to be:
most unwholesome when it comes
to the german federation...

it's called cheating:
eatin saxon white soy
and not... riddling oneself
with Bavarian rye!

i'm drunk! it's the 27th of december!
the little ******* is born!
now i can celebrate!
chevalier, mult estes guariz!
on the 27th of december i can sing
german, and french crusader songs!

on the 27th of december i can celebrate!
nothing has to be left so innocent
and passive! so coddled!
and if they weren't singing byzantine
chants... prior to this day?!
let them sing no more!
i have found my happiness! once more!

Ö dies freude!
jetzt ich können: singen!
einst die kinder und engel...
ar legen zu bett!

if i am to be the integrated kind...
now i rejoice!
for i have all the reasons to rejoice!
i do no have to pander
to a babe!
i do not have to force myself
into elevated expectations with
a pre- litany of the omni- suitor...

now i can champion the romance
of the crusade...
i am... freed from the utopia...
that only one heart is allowed
to feel... and its feeling is to be contested...
solely by the sacrifice of a crucifixion...
not by iron maiden outlets "etc."...

now muttererde...
ihr liebhaber: wind - seine unterschrift!
weihnachten ist erledigt!
weihnachten ist erledigt!

it's the 27th of december and i can finally
celebrate with songs...
that... celebrate the sort of christianity
i am accustomed to...
french crusader songs...
german folk...
that i can stomach...
not this... pandering...
expecting the nuns to not...
somehow, not, become...
the ****** of the christ-harem!
a nun is a nun is a nun is a nun...
is a nun...
but i very much like...
being considered...
for... the better part of the feminine whim,
outside the realm of:
the usual rejection tactics of:
the aborted... i like my exercise of yielding:
DAS WORTE... ooh... chisel that
with a base goosebump strut to be worth
being added!

em... it's almost like that...
time-travel question of:
why not travel back in time...
and **** the baby adolf ******...
dunno... no point doing that with a jesus...
since... m'eh... his cross is our
genuflexion... yes: kind sir...
yes mr. greek and mrs. hebrew...
esp. in this script...
esp. when its alive and "we" debate...
the pronunciation of:

nil admirari prope res est una, Numici,
solaque, quae possit facere et servare beatum...
hunc solem et stellas et decedentia certis
tempora momentis sunt qui formidine nulla
inbuti spectent: quid censes munera terrae,
quid maris extremos arabas ditantis et indos
ludicra, quid plausus et amici dona quiritis,
quo spectanda modo, quo sensu credis et ore?

there's nothing to be surprised by, Numicious,
in this life's mainstay, peace of soul and happiness;
others, onto the sun, the stars, azure bodies...
on the round year of orbital changes, look with
a calm... and you would, upon the gifts of earth,
pearls of the sea, what of the distant Arabs,
Indians beyond the Arabs,
on the Kwiritow (googlewhack...)
Quiritus' honours, questionable plaudit: peer
raptured in awe without measure?

a very ******* bad a very ******* terrible
translation... as you do...
as you do... sinking into bourbon...
thinking about... maritza mendez...
sylvia loret... samantha 38G...
and all those lost plump classics of *****...

i would have sunk the Potemkin!
drunk... i wouldn't even require
a sober catch / scrutiny of "character"...
because now i am yet to translate
some latin, use this... ahem...
pseudo-cuneiform text:
"LATINE QUOD MORTUS EST"

perhaps that's mis-translated as:
qua: i.e. "as being"...
perhaps MIT... some runic...
or glagolitic... we AWAIT: the revival!
of the grand h'american protestant church
of apocalyptic wonder!
maybe, perhaps... "then"!

but it's the 27th of december...
the... "messiah" is born!
now we can reroute and go back to our...
current year... ***** and gomorrah type
of *******...
the cosmopolitan whoop-t'd'ah is 'ere!
come easter, come spring....
come the crucifixion! come the resurrection!
Joelena Saldana Jun 2015
-Joelena Saldana
10/4/14
Let me loose,
I feel confused,
cut the cord that frees me from your abuse.

I'm not your slave,
I'm not one to be taken or given away.
I am no trick,
I am no longer a fool.

Set me free
or you will see what kind of a child I can be.

I am not scared,
although I can not say the same for you..

You are trapped and I am free,
are you prepared to see the real me?

The consequences will be paid for the actions that you have made.
You clearly underestimate the girl I am,
but now you know I can't be tamed.

This is the girl I should've made.

You no longer have control of me.

I will fight to the end,
not knowing or caring where that may be.

This is for me.

I will take back the time you've taken,
you think I'm trapped,
but you've clearly been mistaken.

You may be the maker of this game,
but now I will decide who will win or have pain.
And from how I see it, today is not your day.

You must read before you play.

Choose the game that will be played,
be prepared for what comes your way.

I am a grenade,
I should not be played with.

Don't underestimate the girl I am now,
somehow I am here,
and I am prepared to take on your fear.


You no longer can hurt me,
are we officially clear?
Joelena Saldana Jun 2015
-Joelena Saldana
11/28/14
Foot steps.. Breathing.. Movement..
Believe it or not, it all creates music. Every sound you hear. Whether it be annoying, irritating, boring, catchy, interesting.. It's all music.
Every living and non-living thing creates music.
Whether we know it or not, it's most definitely there.
It would be completely impossible not to discover music!
You see, people mistake music for just sound. It is rhythm, vibration, nature. Music is not only sound. It is touch and sight as well. Texture...
And if it wasn't humans or creatures that had discovered or started music, it would have been nature.
The wind, of which blows across or through. The rumbling from the landscapes and landslides. And the rain, of which eventually lands or touches something that soon makes a noise.
Whether we like it or not, we are surrounded by music...
Joelena Saldana Jun 2015
-Joelena Saldana
?/?/?
The smack upon her face was strong.
His eyes had fire, hurt, pain, anger...

Her face was wet from her salty tears. Her scream for help did nothing.

He was the volcano pretending to be a beautiful mountain.
As the girl was soft healthy green grass.
But was scared of the mountain to erupt.

The fear of being nothing, destroyed, dust,
or just the liquid from the lava.

She had fear,
but still imagined that the volcano was just a mountain.
That he was a beautiful part of nature.


The grass wisps in the wind, hoping to be blown away like a creature with wings.
Joelena Saldana Jun 2015
-Joelena Saldana
12/3/14
I can't get him out of my head...
He's surfaced my dreams, I can't stay focused.

Every single morning,
I wake to the memory of him and fall asleep with his face in my head
and his words crawling under my skin speaking,
not singing,
but speaking in a sweet sweet melody.

Why can't I forget?

He's so many miles away.. States away.
Could this be love?
Could this be the thing I've been waiting for all these years?

Everyone tells me,
"Let him good.. You could do better..
He's not good for you.. We don't wanna see you get hurt Jo-Jo..
It's just lust.."

I feel like I'm going crazy!

Out of my mind trying to forget him.
But the crazy thing is,
me trying to forget
is me remembering every little thing we did.

Every single time we laughed,
every moment we wanted to be around each other.

He's always put a smile on my face.
Craved his kisses,
something we never did, but regret and wished we had.

It felt as if I was lost without his presence.

My day was never fulfilled without getting at least something from him.. His words..
A hug..
A laugh..
A smile..
Just one look towards me and my day would be final and complete.

I've never felt this much,
whatever it may be,
about a guy before.. About a person..

It scares me.

Now that I am not around..
Now that he is not with me,
because of these awful miles and states away.

One hundred and forty three of my days have not been complete.

Without his words..
Without his hugs..
Without his laugh..
Without his warm warm smile..
Without his glance.

I have been lost..

Confused of these days and what they might hold and mean.

I miss his touch,
I miss his sound,
I miss my eyes holding witness to his presence,
I miss his flowing intoxicating aroma that I could've kept forever.

And only one thing,
one thing that I fully regret not giving or receiving.

One thing that does appear in my dreams,
but wake to the unpleasantness of the morning rise.

A kiss..
A sweet, gentle, loving, caring, fulfilling kiss.

The taste of his lips.

All of our deep feelings would fall into that kiss.
And this kiss wouldn't have been just any kiss.

It would've been a fully remembered,
cherished for all these years,
first kiss.


Oh, S... What you do to me..
What spell you've casted.
Joelena Saldana Jun 2015
-Joelena Saldana
9/13/14
The tears are pouring, and you're not here..
Please come back and wipe my tears. You're the one who noticed me...
You left me alone, the window to my soul is broken.

The energy and happiness, will it ever come back again?
It wasn't right, you were not ready.

You came to my heart bright red, and now you're gone
and I'm dark and cold as night.
Don't release my hand, I shiver cold.

You gave me the faith to take control.
You gave me the hope to never let myself go.
You left me gone and alone in this world.

Please don't leave me alone, I cry in fear not knowing if I'm worth being here.

Save me from my demons, capture me from the dark,
you were my guardian angel, my savior, you had my heart.
I've been dropped,
I'm glass,
shattered by a brick named Time.

I can't seem to reach the surface, something's holding me down.

Come back to my arms and let me hold you.
A gripped pillow is no comparison to you.

Please don't leave me.
You're the image stuck in my head, our memories are written with permanent marker.
I still stare out my window hoping you approach my door asking for me.

I miss your mouth pressing up against my lips and cheek.
You made me feel worth something.

I miss your calls,
I miss your words,
you were inspiration to me.

Why did you have to leave me?

We were so happy,
this can't be right,
it's an unfinished dream.

Wake me!

Wake me!!

The tears are pouring, and you're not here...
Please come back and wipe my tears.
You're the one who noticed..

You left me alone,
the window to my soul is broken,
the peace has left me-



Why did you have to leave?.. Have to die...
Joelena Saldana Apr 2015
-Joelena Saldana
Rap
8/11-12/14
How can you call your place a home when your trapped in a dome, having nothing but the feeling of being alone.
You see, I never really was the type to have something. Always glad or lucky if you had the chance not to be worth nothing.
It's hard when your scarred by the one man who was supposed to be your bodyguard till the end of the yard.
Tryna think of the place of where you made your first mistake, felt like a heartache stabbed with a stake.
Creature of the night, tryna find the light. Understand the one man you took by the hand.
All of the secrets and shadows, how could you hold me down? Feels like I'm under water, someones tryna make me drown.
I lost the breath to breathe. Baby, please, I'm on my knees help me find the peace that we once had before you mistreated me.
I'm all alone. Nothing but these scars and injured bones.
How was I supposed to know that you were a thrown rock tryna be nothing but a still stone.
It's funny when you think you know someone, then you run, next thing you know, they use you till they're all over and done.
Nothing but an act. Tryna beat the rat. All they wanted was to be the fact that you had.
As this led meets this paper and these tears meet my chin, I'm tryin so hard. Tryna make this frown a grin.
It's all over and done, I should be happy not sad. No really but it shouldn't be this bad.
I'm free!
Someone help me. Its been awhile since I've been on my own. Feels like an episode of The Twilight Zone.
No wait, I can do it. I'm feeling free.
After all this has to start with being me!
Joelena Saldana Jun 2015
-Joelena Saldana
11/30/14
My dreams are getting bigger and my eyes are refusing to open.

I want to do so much more.
I want to be seen.
I want people to see me for who I truly am.

I want them to see what I'm capable of.
How strong I am,
I can only imagine how underestimated they would be.

I want them to see how big my bravery, heart, love, care, and protectiveness is.

If only they knew, they'd stop using me.
If only they knew, they'd stop trying to control my life.
If only they knew, they'd stop trying to take advantage.
If only they knew, they'd stop using me to try to make themselves look better.
If only they knew, I would no longer stay in the corner, the dark, be the sidekick.

But the thing is, the only reason why they don't know is, obviously, because of me.

I put others before me.

It may be my light, but I'm willing to give it up for another.
I know I shouldn't.
It's a waste of a good life.
But my soul.. It's as if it ONLY carries love.
It's nice, but it's not good.

My soul holds more value.
I just need to let it explore, way more than I let it..
Joelena Saldana Dec 2016
-Joelena Saldana
12/9/14
I should have known what you'd do. I'm sick of your mind ****. I'm so ******* sick and tired of your **** period! Just leave so I can forget your lies, your *******. I have better things to do. I no longer need you. Stop leading me on with the things you promise, but never do. I loathe you, I deeply and most definitely hate you. But the fact that I'm supposed to love you makes me hate you more. And the fact that deep deep down I love you makes me hate myself. I know what you do Father. I know all your mind games and tricks, so don't pretend that it's nothing but the truth.
They all end the same. The disappointed, sad, and crying in bed. Hating you for leading me on, hating myself for knowing what you do, but thinking that that time it would be real. It's like I'm setting myself up for heartache, misery, and ******* shame.
So just be gone. Stay away and out of my life. If you're not going to be real and stay true, you're nothing but a fake and a liar.
I am so **** ashamed of your emotional abuse.
Joelena Saldana Dec 2016
-Joelena Saldana
10/4/14
Let me loose, I feel confused, cut the cord that frees me from your abuse. I'm not your slave, I'm not one to be taken or given away. I am no trick, I am no longer a fool. Set me free or you will see what kind of a child I can be.
I am not scared, although I can not say the same for you.. You are trapped and I am free, are you prepared to see the real me?
The consequences will be paid for the actions that you have made. You clearly underestimate the girl I am, but now you know I can't be tamed. This is the girl I should've made.
You no longer have control of me. I will fight to the end, not knowing or caring where that may be.  This is for me. I will take back the time you've taken, you think I'm trapped, but you've clearly been mistaken.
You may be the maker of this game, but now I will decide who will win or have pain. And from how I see it, today is not your day.
You must read before you play.
Choose the game that will be played, be prepared for what comes your way.
I am a grenade, I should not be played with. Don't underestimate the girl I am now, somehow I am here, and I am prepared to take on your fear.

You no longer can hurt me, are we officially clear?
Joelena Saldana Jun 2015
-Joelena Saldana
12/4/14
I'm tired of your act, trying to be better.

Just don't!

Since when is anyone better than others.

We are all unique,
every single one of us.

So how are you, or someone else, gonna say who's better and who isn't.

How are you gonna judge another human being who is
completely different,
completely unordinary.

No one is ordinary,
we don't live the life of The Brady Bunch.
We are Misfits,
we are Shameless,
we are Family Guy.

So enough with the act,
different makes every single person
extraordinary,
fun,
interesting,
amazing.

Embrace who you really and truly are.

Don't waste your life trying to be perfect.


This is an imperfect world.
Joelena Saldana Apr 2015
Joelena Saldana 11/7/14

I am in a world with family and friends, not as much, do I have to pretend. There is love in the air. Friendship and peace. I am finally in a world where I can be seen. My heart leaves no empty trace. I can find, no longer, a bottomless pit. I see love, I feel it, I am surrounded by those who care. Finally, has my prayer been answered and, most definitely, more than fair. I can feel the wind and see it blowing though leaves on trees. I can feel the sun and watch as a flower can grow. I can see animals loving and living with their family and friends. This is truly a world where I can fit in. This is truly a world with life, love, and beauty. This is truly a place where there's no need for mistakes. I will cherish these moments. I will love them forever. Because this here, is where I can say, Our lives are meant to be one, whole, and together in every and/or other way.
Joelena Saldana Jun 2015
-Joelena Saldana
5/4/14
I'm Done - With trying to fix everything that isn't going right.
I'm Done - With all the pain and frustration. Did you know that I can't sleep at night?
So I'm Done - With trying to fix you, trying to help you, when you clearly don't want it.
I'm Done - With you telling me to defend myself when you're the reason why I am down.
So I'm Done - I'm done - So, now I'm gone
I don't care where I'm going, anywhere's better than when I'm with you there.
I'm Gone - Cause you're the reason why I have to hide all this **** misery.
And when you see people ask me if I'm okay, I just get up and leave cause I can't take telling people all this **** pain.
You're telling me that I have to get ready for what life is like - Are you telling me that life is when you're getting abused all the time?
So I'm Gone - I'm Done - I'm through - With being here with you
So I'm Done ---
So I'm Gone ---
I'm Done.
These are lyrics that I wrote about my step father.
Joelena Saldana Jun 2015
-Joelena Saldana
11/29/14
I beg of thee, do not push the girl whom fears to be loved.
Whom fears to love.  

Give her the chance to find the moment of where of where she may finally roam free.
Give her the chance to finally understand.

To understand the natures of which lie within the love and its beauty. Tis wanting the sun to appear at the strike of midnight.

You must give beauty patience.

Tis not thee whom controls, but thy whom controls thee.
You want but cannot take, tis the sun whom will not give but show it's miraculous beauty.

One should never push a woman's love.
One must never beg for a love, then the one whom holds love captive is in control.

Thy shall never push love.

Show me patience.
Show me that you can wait for my love to finally come free and explore thy's wild soul and meet the fast pulse beating heart.
Show thee the beauties of a love so delicate.

Show but not ask.

Tis asking thee that will scare thy away.
Tis begging thee that shall never appear to you once again.

No pressure.. No push..

Tis the girl whom has never loved who holds great innocence.
Tis the girl whom has seen love and has seen it's great, but grand destruction.
And tis the girl whom fears the pain, but knows no pleasurable joy that may come with it.

Tis the young woman whom is a child to love.

She must know.. Learn love, not quickly take it.


For I am that girl, so please, give me patience.
Joelena Saldana Apr 2015
-Joelena Saldana
8/26/14
My strength and power has been clouded. I no longer have control. My blood holds still as my heart has lost the easy rhythm.
Keep it in my mind, don't blurt it out. Let my soul stay, mustn't let it show.
The sun looks warm, but I'm frozen cold.
I scream ad plea, can't let them see me.
My imagination is full of steps, chances, and bravery.
I wanna let go, I know I'll explode, but I must do what I'm told.
The silent tears feel like a drum. I just wanna be heard, like lyrics that must be sung.
Just need to breath, I must find the meanings of being me.
I'm a broken ***** glass that's only been cleaned. I am rose that has been painted black. My petals begin to think it's real, they fall one by one cast under a spell.
My arms and legs shake, I want to let them know. I repeat, " Just breathe, it's okay. Just let go.".
I want to unfold, like a creased paper that should have been rolled, and let the things that must be said, be told.
The dark scary spikes pull at my skin hoping that it rips, bleeding out from within.
His presence is a shudder. I try to stay hidden, but no matter where I go he grabs me by the arm and commands that I stay with him.
I was an artifact that should have been released, but was stolen.
I cry and beg, "Please don't hurt me!". I kick and claw screaming, "Stay away from me!".
I open my eyes and look around Thanking God it was just a dream.
I lay back down upon my pillow, and smile at my love who lays next to me. I look closer and see that he's the dark fellow.
I sit up, I breathe, " It's okay, just let go.". He's gone forever, and now I know freedom. Imaginations become reality.
All I had to do was Just Let Go!
Joelena Saldana Apr 2015
-Joelena Saldana
?/?/10
As he saw thy eyes within shame and darkness, thy heart is beating so fast I think it is broken. As he knew my secret that I could not tell, I screamed and shouted, but I could not yell. I was sad and frightened, but angry the most, I knew he'd walk away from the girl he knew from coast to coast. As i cried every morning, every day, every night the most with most plenty of shame. I stayed up morning after morning always shouting," No! Please wait!".

I did not only lose a crush... I lost a friend the most of much.
Joelena Saldana Apr 2015
-Joelena Saldana
?/?/?
Why doesn't dad call when we call him? Why doesn't he mean it when he says, "I love you.". Why doesn't he see us like he used to? Why doesn't he care about us who we care about him? Why does he pretend to love us? Why does he never pick up the phone to call? We give him everything while he gives us nothing. Why does he trick us into caring? Why didn't he call to say, Happy Birthday? Why are all these questions unanswerable? He thinks by loving him and caring about him makes him a greater or better man. Why can't we just meet him and not his character? I just wish I could meet HIM! Why even say, "I love you.", when there's no love involved? Why break our hearts? I wish YOU were here!!! When will my wish come true? True to see you.. Why Dad.. Why?
Joelena Saldana Jun 2015
-Joelena Saldana
11/12/14
Where am I? One minute I'm happy, I'm here, I'm safe. The next I'm paranoid, their eyes find me and they lie still. Why do they reach me? Why do they watch?
No, not the attention. Please don't watch me. Their eyes are still locked on me, I want to run, but where to go? I'm lost, I don't know where I'm going, I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know what I am.
They wait, attention on me. What do they wait for? What are they expecting? My life is stuck, I am at a halt. What am I doing? Where am I going? Who am I? What am I? What do they expect from me?
All I do is give and give and give. Not once have they asked for me. Not once have they wondered... Not once have they wondered, not once have they questioned what will happen to me. I give and give.
I beg of thee, please, notice me without having to be told. See me so I am visible.
I am not good nor bad. I am not a hero nor a villain. I am no fairy godmother nor a wicked step-sister. I am here as me.
I give everything, but take nothing. It get's under my skin. I want to take, but can't be greedy.
See me... See me...
What do you want? What do you ask for? Why have their eyes been stuck on me? Why do you watch me?
I am lost. I'm a fish on land. I am a young woman caged in a man's world.
Find Me!
Find Me!

I want them to find me. - I take.
Joelena Saldana Dec 2016
-Joelena Saldana
12/13/14

A face is precious. Its beauty holds deep value.

So wipe those tears and wash those scars. Your
eyes carry secrets from street to land.

Drowning your mouth in poisons and narcotics.
Knowing that it deserves less, but more.

Trusting that nose that can taste a day's
lies and defeat.

And the ears sense of witnessing a worlds horror
and pain, and a lands honor and tender justice.

A face's truth and lie, faith and leave.

No matter what they say, a face can hold true honesty.
Depending on the one who knows how to read.

A face is a vineyard.
Holding great tastes of different wines.

Like a face, holds great mystery, all kinds of crisps,
and a soulful tune from a waves crashing water meeting a stomach,
but slithering down the throat like a rushing waterfall.
Joelena Saldana Apr 2015
-Joelena Saldana
7/8/14
Loneliness... One of my biggest fears and yet easiest thing to talk about. The feeling of no one knowing what you're going through. Not wanting anyone to know what your going though. Having the feeling that no one will understand, knowing that no one will want to understand. It feels like time goes on while you stand still, watching the world like a movie. Everything and everyone has a color. I'm a gray. People have those happy moments: excitement; butterflies in their stomach... It feels like forever since I've had that. All I've been doing is pushing people out and away. Not wanting anyone to know what I'm going through ,because I'm so miserable. Missing them, wanting them wishing I was still there with them. I don't want them to know how I feel. I don't want people to pity me. I don't need it. I don't wish it. I don't deserve it. I've had enough of it. Sometimes all we need is someone to talk to.. Someone to hold us. I don't want the purples, pinks, oranges, yellows, etc. to know who I am and how I feel. I'm just a nothing and depressing color gray. And nobody want's to deal with a gray. They want to feel yellow, white, red, black, brown, etc. I'm so alone with my fears and disastrous moments and thoughts. I'm so full of pain that's ready to be shed, but afraid of how the actions of it will come out. Tears just wanting to be poured out like a faucet. Having nothing but the memory of when I was once happy, but now alone in fear of me. It's scary.. Having fear against yourself. Worrying that you might slip and do something you will always and forever regret. Praying to God, asking him to help you not slip. Asking him to protect you from your sad and scary thoughts. God, protect me from myself.
Please help and protect my Lonely Soul.
Joelena Saldana Apr 2015
-Joelena Saldana
7/31/14
I can feel starting to slip away... My passion, my strength, my muse. The only thing that makes me me. What will I do? Where can I go? It's the only thing that can keep me grounded, keeps me here where I am today. I can't leave now, I can't be distant. I must keep writing. My poetry has gotten me through everything. All the drama, the hurt, the pain, the happiness, excitement, crushes, love, my anger, irritation, moments of disappointment. Its helped me through the deep deep pain my father had put me through. My bullying that I couldn't stick up to, because I was too scared and had no confidence. The love that I have for my family that was to frustrating to say that I would just put it on paper. It's amazing how much a piece of wood and led can help me and get me through. I can't stop.. I can't give up. I must find my desire once again. What ever happened to that one happy, loved, but injured child? I fear for her disappearance. Please do not leave.. Where am I without you?.. Without me. Poetry is my memory that I keep on paper. Poetry and writing defines me. Where am I without it? What am I without it?.. Do not leave my happy, but wounded heart, soul, and mind.
Please! I beg you... Stay.
Joelena Saldana Jun 2015
-Joelena Saldana
6/8/14
There is a light. Right when it is about to end... About to die. About to leave.. To go on. There it is.. A light. Where there is nothing, but fear, when you're lonely, when it's dark and there's nothing to see. When there is no escape, where you can't do anything, but cry and think of unpleasant things, and dream nightmares in your own dark night.. It's there.. You find it.. A light. A light that will not let you go.. A light that will never leave you. A light that will not let you forget every happiest moment you've had. Every greatest and smallest thing that you are proud of. Proud to have. Don't let it take you.. Don't let the darkness take you. Don't let it know that it's winning. Don't let it take your sanity. Don't let it take your Hopes away. Your dreams, your happiness, your courage, your best moments. Because YOU are the key. You let yourself be free. Be who YOU are. Be where you belong. Be and do what's right for you. Don't let anyone have a second to take that chance to take you. Because it can't, They Can't! Nothing can ever take you. Because YOU ARE POWERFUL, YOU ARE GREAT, YOU ARE INSPIRATIONAL. No thing can take you away, steal you away from you. Because YOU ARE STRONG! And nothing is more magical than you.. Than the art of being you. Being who you are is not bad, it is not a horror, it is not regretful, But strong, but great, but more than amazing. You are remarkable! YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Don't let someone have you in the palm of their hand. Don't ever have the feeling of someone or something being able to control you. Because it is YOUR life, YOUR destiny. It is you! Not he or she, not they or that, not them or it, but you. It is YOU! You control you, you have You, you are YOU! nothing but you. You hold the power! You hold the love! You hold the emotion! You hold the great! You hold the key to you!  Forever and always YOU!
You Are The Light!
So, never forget, there is always a light.
And never forget where that light came from.
You.
Joelena Saldana Apr 2015
-Joelena Saldana
6/22/14
They all said he would change, I didn't believe them. He's had so many chances to change, so why would he choose this one. I still live in worry and stress. I have to watch myself, everything I do. I don't want to make him stressed, mad, annoyed, worried... Moving from state to state can' change a person, money can't change a person, and ( I guess ) time can't either. He does nothing with hands, but with his words there's destruction. I don't want to be scared or worried. I don't want to not be me! I don't want to change how I TALK, how I WALK, how I FEEL, and HOW I AM... WHO I AM! I don't want to watch what I do. They said that now he's different, he's changed, he's had time. But I face reality. I trust myself to know how he is from my eyes. His words hurt, his sarcasm is painful, his attitude is unbearable. After twelve years, I knew he wouldn't change. Just from a time o a year and a half... Everyone lives on hope and he image of things, but luckily for me, I know the difference. The things that people buy for others don't always make them feel happy and thankful or the other person, but for he thing or object that they bought. It's never always about money, but about true happiness and feelings. Please don't make me go through this again, I am afraid. I just want a chance to no be scared.. To be me in front of him. But this time, I will put faith on something that I've always been afraid to put emotions and feelings on... Hope. The one thing that can tease me, hurt me, destroy me. So please, Hope, help me. Just this once..
Hope.. Please--
Joelena Saldana Apr 2015
-Joelena Saldana

When you look into a person's eyes, it's like reading who they are.. Who they'll be. Their darkest secrets, their personality, their likes, their dreams. It's where you can find their true honesty.
Joelena Saldana Apr 2015
-Joelena Saldana
When thy feels sad with complete sorrow, I wonder if it was I who had started the trouble. With all this hurt and pain, I am afraid that I am hurting the ones I love the most. Please help me with all the trouble. No fighting. No hurting. Just comfort and love. Please help me with this if you are there. With four keys that leads a person to despair.
Love
Honesty
Happiness
Peace
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2020
i... i'm finding myself bound to having
a green fetish...
a green fetish for gomorrah...
Zoe Saldana....
no please... no cinnamon skins...
no copper skins... no brass...
no rust... none of the chocolate skin...
nothing milky-way...
i'm in it for the green...
perhaps ol' me porky skinned -
hapless white when i scortch via
pink is all evesdropping via
the glaswegian route via
carntyne west and haghill -
north barlanark and easterhouse south:
otherwise better to import foreign
perspectives... from salty Sou -
and d'lan...
but i still have green fever...
i'm tired of liking the copper,
the cinnamon,
i'm tired of burnt butter antics...
just give me the alien green ***-whip...
how else will ever befriend the chance
to escape this oriental onslaught
of the... less than courteous
mr. Hiab and happen via Mrs. Gipsy
and the latest: motiff in ****** of Kan-tow!
bow.. ****** better bow...
it's still a fetish for green...
you paint me as pink as,
what i really am...
paint me crimson curious...
emerald skin aged nearing my 60s
and with a furious nose...
you know what comes across as most disagreeable
to me?
essex girls teasing a suntan in winter...
with prokofiev's oranges...
i wouldn't lament... milktooth
milk skin of some sun deprived
aristrocratic wannabe st. petersburg beauty...
when you can look
at the veins like maps of roads
that extend outside the curriculum
of a "nation"...
but the green, the green...
i'm just so into the green skin!
i'd **** a green skinned girl...
prior to the copper cinnamon and the cumin /
coriander powder earthling...
sign me up for green skin
and ****** ***** of feeding a suckling of
an octopus humanoid morph...
god knows what else will wash up
with the next tsunami...
this is my wave...
this is my skateboard and this is my ramp's
worth of a reef...
and this not not anything...
that otherwise comes with
the "molotov" cocktail of
interracial breeding... the casual Cassie...
perhaps the porky skinned beauties
of casual oh-so...
forgot to keep their: dear diaries...
and i somehow demanded myself
to keep mine...
however you look at it:
big fetish for green.

— The End —