Mad at it All.

I'm tired of shedding tears.
I'm tired of writing tributes.
More so, I am sick and tired of doing both for people so young.
A parent shouldn't have to bury his or her child, neither should a child have to bury his or her parent without the grandchild by the side. God's promise says we would live to see our children's children.

I'm tired of hearing of cancer.
I'm tired of hearing of how lives so precious, so promising, are cut short as a result of it.
Coming without notice. Causing pain, grief and harm; giving a false hope of recovery, then snatching the hope and replacing it with a gut-wrenching agony.

I'm tired of the dread.
I'm tired of hearing a friend/school mate has 'the virus', then round of 50/50 that follows.
I'm tired of hoping, praying, wishing and stressing, while a terrifying shadow of the grim reaper hunts my view.
With no preventive recipe and no full proof treatment, its a fight between the devil and the deep blue sea, both one and the same, with only a faint distant ray of help.

Its not a person so one cannot hate it.
Its not a person so one cannot yell at it.
Its not a person so one cannot call a jury, find guilty and pass judgment upon it.

I guess I'm just tired today. Maybe because I just wrote two tributes to a very promising life cut short. Maybe because its the third time in less than 3 years. Maybe because I'm in the mood to dwell on the fact that life is such an unfair little b at times.

In the morning I'd feel better. In the morning I'd hope and pray again, because there is really nothing else to do.
For now, I am tired. So I'd just sit here and cry myself to sleep.

xo
 

Breathless

Overwhelmed.
I need to let it out.
I need to shout.
I need to talk, scream, something.
Why?
Cause if I keep thinking I'd go insane.
If I keep trying to find answers to all these I'd go crazy.
I ask God. But it's like the more I ask, the more questions come up.
The only answer I know is that I have to go.
I know if I stay, I'd be stuck.
I can't explain how I know or why that scares me a lot, but it is.
Maybe because this is the longest I've stayed.
Maybe because I feel out of my depth and lost.
Maybe because I have a blank slate when 'this' is presented as my future.
Maybe because I simply do not want to.
But the questions keep on coming.
The answers keep on running.
I know if I talk this out I'd be fine.
But there is no one to talk to.
I mean everyone is around, but 'a someone' is missing.
Everyone else would ask more questions.
Everyone else would be equally burdened.
Everyone else....
I need to talk, scream, something.
I need to shout.
I need to let it out.
Overwhelmed.

Cages

A wounded cat trapped in a four-walled space,
She runs around, fighting the claustrophobia, trying to pretend she is in the wild.
A wounded cat trapped and cornered,
They surround her, taking more of her freedom, draining more of her air.

Her natural instinct is to run,
Run and go nurse her wounds as she reunites with her freedom.
Trapped and cornered, she has no place to go.
Trapped and cornered, she has only one response.

Her natural instinct is to fight,
Lash out and hurt until her corner becomes a space and her space, freedom.
But it hurts her to fight so won't you set her free??
But it deepens her wound to fight so won't you let her be??

They say its selfish of her to want to be free,
She hurts others by wanting to be free.
But it hurts her to stay and not be free,
It hurts her to stay cornered and not run free.

But they won't let her go,
They won't let her be free,
They won't let her breathe,
So she must remain caged, wounded until one side breaks.

The Girl Who Danced With The Snake

It struck as weird didn't it?? Her advocating for the new guy instead of d old. But thinking about it in this order might make some sense. 

Remember the A likes B but B likes C scenario?? Well this is more A likes B. B is dating C. And then there is her. Usually, she's not a fan of the underdog. But this time, she wants A to get B. Though the chances are slim. But that's all her vicarious living talking.
She has gone through the personal cycle of liking A (in normal people terms), getting dumped, getting over it and wishing for his happiness - all in her head.
What if I tell you she thought about liking A, decided on her own he won't like her, got sad/over it and projected her 'almost' feelings unto B.
So it looks like she is rooting for A and B for their sake or as a friend, but in actuality, she'd get to live vicariously through B. Pathetic ain't it?? Now what happens when she plays too much or over projects or deludes herself into believing she could let herself like A and see what happens??

This little dilemma is one of the main reasons I, and not she, keep the keys to our heart. Its too fragile for a repeat of last time for instance. 

A New Dawn: A Fundraiser For Kechi Okwuchi....and some

So I realized today that despite the fact that I am one of the organizers for this event, I have not posted anything in relation to it.
Unfortunately, I dont plan on posting anything directly related to the event as I have already done that on our website www.kechiokwuchifundraiser.com.
With regards to the event coming up on saturday:
I cried today for the first time in ages. And no, it wasn't good.

For the same many reasons I don't cry, I cried today. And when I did, there was no one to make mi feel better. As I expected, which is a major reason I don't cry. Then I watched the slide show I made of her and us all for the show, and I remembered why I was doing it. I cried again (which is how I know everyone who sees it would cry), but this time it was for a different reason. I still didn't have anyone to complain to or make mi feel better, but it wasn't as disheartening as earlier.

It is late and I need to sleep, so thats all for now. lol.

Its been ages since I came here. Sigh.

Sitcoms

So I got betrayed. Yeah thats out the door.
Its too long a tale and frankly am tired of relieving it.
The problem I am having now is passing the blame. I have been fine blaming myself this entire time, till a friend scolded mi for that. Now I am stuck here wondering who is to blame for what happened then?? And then along the way I started thinking maybe its not as big of a deal as I played it out to be. Maybe I over reacted. Maybe I was hurt, but the level of hurt was totally my fault. Maybe the other party doesnt need to even apologize as much as it seems....Maybe all this while I made them feel bad and I am the selfish one.....
So many maybes keep coming, and all I want to do is crawl back into bed, back to sleep and wake up to find this has all been one long and very unfunny nightmare..... but I have come to learn the hard way that life doesn't ever go the way I want it to, and I just have to deal. Be a big girl and suck it up.


Friend said there is no comfortable place in life. If thats the case then I want out. I didn't sign up for that. I almost wish we were given a manual to read before we signed anything like 'coming to earth'. Maybe we could have opted for a different planet or something if we didn't like the terms of the contract. Just saying.


agreements.....


Sigh.


But it is fine. I trust too much I was told, so no more trusting. Just totally believing everything and not getting shocked when I find out it was not as I was told. If I didn't trust, then I did expect something to change and would not be too affected if it does. Its like getting a maybe from a performer. That means both yes and no. So if he latter calls and says its a no, you would be fine cause you were not relying totally on him. On the other hand, if he calls and says its a yes, then well thats good. You have a great performer for your show. Either way, the show would go on.


Just like now, the show must go on. And I 'd be right back after I crawl back under my blanket for a few more hours. 


Cheers

....From The Eyes Of The Beheld....

When you adore something, you watch it.
You don't touch it.
You don't touch it for you fear that then it would be contaminated. No longer pure, no longer the beauty that you behold. You would be contaminating it with the essence of yourself. The essence that makes you thus unworthy, thus impure, thus a simple guardian.
You understand this, you accept this.
But then disaster strikes.
Now that which you adore so is in shambles. You watch as the pieces gather together. Holding on to each other to soothe the ache that they each share. The common ache that you all share, though yours is well masked, well hidden.
You watch the bond and once again, it's painfully clear. Your heart is hurt cause you watch that which you adore stand before you, its pieces holding on together to comfort itself. To become stronger.
Suddenly, it becomes even more painfully obvious, your position. You are merely an observer to them. A visitor, charming nonetheless, but still a visitor. One with a mere interest in what that which you adore are, but not one that can feel or understand like them. You are automatically tagged, along with the rest of the outsiders, as one with sympathy, but incapable of empathy.
Tragic loss.
Now you have two kinds of pain to deal with. The pain of watching your beloved hurt in a way you could never have wished upon your own daemons. The pain of being all but ostracized as an outsider by the same beloved: Kept so close but yet so far, stuck between being one and being none. An empath to your degree, it hurts more.
You close your eyes, and the eery all too familiar echo of silence engulfs you. Not the silence of peace, but that which echos with lonesomeness. That which is plagued by the every living fact that awake or in sleep, remains eternal.
It's sad. Playing the beholder to the beholder to the beheld. The beheld knows not what it does to the other. The beholder cannot help the one between. For as sad as it is to say, the beholder is but one.
So to soothe yourself, you dive into the fantasies. The loves, the hopes, the dreams once held, all fulfilled. For a time, the ache is pacified, the loneliness is sated. And like a drug, the effect soon wears out, leaving you aching till the next dose.

If you understand any of this, then congratulations. You have become a beholder; seeing what no other has been able to do before - see from the eyes of the one in between....

....She....

Darkness engulfing,
closer, closer.
And no matter how hard she tries,
she can't seem to out run it.

Light receding,
faster, faster.
And no matter how hard she tries,
she can't seem to run to it.

Shakes subduing,
colder, colder.
And no matter how hard she tries,
she can't seem to get off the island.

Warmth retreating,
farther, farther.
And no matter how hard she tries,
she can't seem to get close enough to keep it.

Cycle rotating,
slowly, slowly,
And no matter how different the show seems,
she can't help but end up at the same finish line.

Story unfolding,
magically, magically,
And no matter how wonderful the play looks,
she can't help but end up with the same part, audience, all the time....

Resevoir Chronicles: "Thats who I am"

I close my eyes and I see your tears,
I close my eyes and I see your smile,
I close my eyes and I see you saying goodbye,
I close my eyes, and all I see is you.

I am aware of how you feel,
I am aware of how you think,
I am aware of how you are,
I am aware I dont comprehend the logic behind it all.

You always say whats on your mind,
You always say how you feel,
You always do as you please,
You always....its always about you.

You say you are listening,
You say you do understand,
You say you know what I am talking about,
You say a lot of things you don't mean.

Deciding when to come, you came.
Deciding when to leave, you left.
Deciding we be intimate, it did not matter.
Deciding all this, you did alone, we have/had no say.

Deciding the story, you make the play.
Deciding the characters, you act the part.
Deciding the ending, you take the bow.
Deciding the audience....wait, where do we come in??

Can I say....

'That's enough' is your standard response,
Who would have guessed it was never words alone?
I have been running in circles,
Am calling it quits now. Taking a rest.

'Thats my best friend' you say a lot.
Who can believe when it's always a lie.
I am tired of begging, talking, this circular journey.
Am finaly giving you your wish, I'll tell you good bye....

I wish I could say....

"That's who I am"

Venus and Mars, and all Hell in between....

I. Am. Really. Tired.
This close to throwing in the towel and saying screw it. I haven't had this much drama in my life in such a long time, and worse still, I haven't had this much drama that I am 'unrelated' to half of in as long as I can remember, and besides stressing mi out, it is really really starting to get on my nerves. You know the five stages of grieve thing - Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance?? Well I think I went through the first in seconds cause I was beyond shocked and all when I first heard, and then skipped to the fourth. I was stuck there for a little bit, but I think I am now back on track at the second.
Boys are devinately from mars, women from venus, and parents are from the now un-planeted planet, pluto. Mi, I am from the planet Zowrocks, so thats mainly why I cannot understand any of them.
In the first place, why people bother to have so many complicated emotions about life, whcih by the way is so fleeting, is beyond mi. Why can't they all just decide that life is short and so lets have fun, rather than having to include useless emotions such as the all time favorite 'falling in love'. Come on!!
Ok yes, I would admit that there are those who, visual only, seem to have mastered this act and are perfectly fine with that inclusing. And I am not saying it is bad, I guess not entirely. But if it causes so much sadness and pain, at least get the sense to know that maybe you havent mastered it, and now would be a good time to quit for a while. Get some fun.
As for the parents, really stressing over 'whats my child gonna become' is way too much stressing. And yes, I am probably talking cause I don't have kids, but I think if one is more free spirited, and trusting, life would fall into place. I am not saying wash your hands off the little brats, cause then they turn into monsters and all hell breaks loose, but I think trusting their choices once in a while wouldn't be so bad.
And as for the female race....If God had not had such a sense of humor, I think it would have been easier if men and women had the same brains. That way, things would not have to be so dang on complicated, and people would be able to have smoother and easier conversations. But he does have one. A sense of humor I mean. So here we are, stuck with two different languages. Tower of Babel all over a gain. Except here there are ony two groups, trying to hold a conversation in two different languages....Sigh.
Ok back to my dang research papper....don't even get mi started on where I think Professors are from, and what I feel is the just thing to do to that planet....don't

Unchanged

Tears unshed,
Tears unshedable.
Pain unmeasured,
Pain unmeasurable.
Screams unheard,
Screams unhearable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Words unsaid,
Words unsayable.
Thoughts unshared,
Thoughts unshareable.
Things undone,
Things undoable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Time unwound,
Time unwindable.
Things undone,
Things undoable.
Mistakes not undone,
Mistakes not undoable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Emotions unnoticed,
Emotions unnoticable.
Feelings unshared,
Feelings unsharable.
Death unacomplished,
Death unacomplishable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Things ungotten,
Things ungettable.
Wishes unanswered,
Wishes unanswerable.
Desires unmet
Desires unmeetable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Faults unblamed,
Faults unblamable.
Problems unsolved,
problems unsolvable.
Help unatained,
Help unatainable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.
Yet, still remains, unbeating.

The Breakdown: Confrontation

She woke up drenched with sweat, the pain in her chest almost unbearable. There was nothing in the room as usual, but still she looked around. The clock said 3.00am, but she was sure that had to be wrong. Because if it was right, then it meant she had only managed to sleep for thirty minutes. Thirty damn minutes! A month ago, if only, her most detested phrase, would never have been her sing song. A month ago, she would never have guessed that there was a possibility for a still heart to have a wound carved in that hurts even when it refuses to beat. A month ago, she would never have watched her (http://mi-herownworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/shattering-dreams.html).
She lay back on the bed, wondering what she was to do next. Sleep was definitely not forth coming as she had now come to find out, and her thoughts needed to be kept at bay, as they always led to destruction, not a good thing for her in case one was wondering. She glanced at the study table looking at the pile of books she was meant to have read. Suddenly a train passed by breaking the almost deafening silence, and though the sudden sound was startling, she found herself missing it as it faded. The silence seemed to reecho, and with it, others seemed to wake (http://mi-herownworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/things-she-fears.html).
Her most dreaded dream came back to haunt her, and this sleep she knew she would be forced to ride out. She sat in the big room amongst others, all awaiting the same thing. Except with her, she felt those who had come to wait on her were expecting more. What a scary predicament she was in. on the one hand, her self-loathe and definite disappointment she seemed well enough to handle. Years of experience had thought her so. But on the other hand, theirs she was not sure she could take on. Suddenly her name was called, and the others seemed to fade away. She was alone, about to face a crowd of expectations and long lost dreams (http://mi-herownworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/blank-pages.html).
Day is here at last, and her sentence to hell has come to a pause. She gets up, showers and dresses. She puts on the appropriate amount of makeup, not too much to draw the attention, but just enough to cover the scars. The smile is turned on and the eyes begin to twinkle. She turns off the house lights, walks out the house and says a bright hello to all that pass her by (http://mi-herownworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/who-would-believe.html).
So now that you have heard her tale, write her a bed time story to help her day. One that rhymes and brings a real smile to her lips. Not the one she currently owns, that she gets for free, but one she can have and hold. If you do decide to take on this mission, click below and send the tale with the name you wish to be addressed by:
tiazmi@gmail.com

Then refresh the tales in 30 mins (for thats how long she has to sleep), and watch the smile you have given her unfold....
She lives to love, she loves to live, she lies to love, she lies to live….

Who would believe....

If she told them she was not as shinny within,
If she told them the glitter was surface wise only,
If she told them at the end they face a fall,
Who would believe?

If she told them she was scared and alone,
If she told them it was now far too late,
If she told them the hands of time showed no mercy,
Who would believe?

If she told them her fate had mislead,
If she told them the blame was misplaced,
If she told them she despised she more,
Who would believe?

If she told them the pain was there,
If she told them it was not an excuse,
If she told them her punishment was worse,
Who would believe?

If she told them how she tried,
If she told them how she feared,
If she told them how she fought,
Who would believe?

She dreamt of a happy ending,
She dreamt of that long awaited smile,
She dreamt of that final pride,
But now at the end,
Who would believe?

Shattering Dreams

She watches the chips fall off,
One, then two, then another still.
She watches the paint wash off,
A stroke, then two, then another still.
She watches the picture fade,
A scene, then two, then another still.
She watches her world crash,
A piece, then two, then another still.
And as she watches her shattering dreams,
The tears still won’t fall.

She watches the story change,
One line, then two, then another still.
She watches the faith despair,
One inch, then two, then another still.
She watches the scenery move by,
One, then two, then another still.
She watches the color fade,
One tint, then two, then another still.
And as she watches her shattering dreams,
The tears still won’t fall.

Is it pride that holds them in?
Is it fear that keeps them sealed?
Is it fate that she has come to accept?
Is it her nightmare that has now merged with reality?
Is it disbelieve and false hope that hold her still?
What is it that keeps her still heart still still;
Even as she watches her shattering dreams fall at her feet?

Things She Fears

Silence is a terrible bed mate,
But suspense is a vengeful lover,
And failure, the unrequited love.
In unison, my heart’s breaker.

The reaper is a dutiful collector,
But the movie player is like the Russian mob.
And the cause is the coy mistress.
The union holds the tag: DON’T FUCK WITH.

The numbers cut like knives,
But letters drain the blood. Slowly. Surely.
And the fallacy in her hopes is like a salty balm,
In their union, she toys with death.

She has opened Pandora's box,
Slowly but surely it is unveiled.
The world shall soon bear witness,
Of her self-doctored execution,
And they shall watch the first outpour in disappointed silence,
Not caring for the story that led up there in.

Blank Pages

Blank page sits before mi,
Like the book of judgment.
I sit here waiting for the words to appear.
I sit here waiting for the invisible ink to move across.
Writing my sins,
Dirtying the now beautiful white with black, brown and crimson.

Blank page stares back at mi,
Like the book of judgment.
What would the ink write?
What details would it leave out?
The world awaits, and I shudder in fear.
For they must turn to hate and disgust after my sins are revealed.

Blank page sits before mi,
Like the book of judgment.
Would it be enough to hold my transgressions?
Or would another blank paged stare need to be endured?
A bitter laugh bubbles up as I realize like one vain at death’s door,
I wonder more about my appearance than I do the vast sins I posses.

Blank page stares back at mi,
Like the book of judgment.
Funny isn’t it; that we are back at this?
Then I wished to have a longer leash,
But now I see that the shorter was better,
As being yanked back from a great distance hurts a lot more.

Blank pages sit before mi,
Like the book of judgment.
Don’t judge mi is what I wish to say,
I had my reasons is the explanation I have to give.
But as I stare back at the soon to be disappointed stares,
I save my breath.

Blank pages stare back at mi,
Like the book of judgment.
Soon I know it would hold my sins,
My deceit, my lies and my failures.
And though I have enough reasons to make my case before the judge,
I fear sadly, this jury is worse than he.