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Honesty and truthGreat expectationsStandards too high to reachDoes one set up for failure or lower the standards? When you settle, can you be happy? Wouldn't it be forever less than what you wanted? Is it better to fail after trying? Is it? Is there any satisfaction in failing? Perhaps there can be. If you do your best, then that is all that can be done. If you try and fail, and you know there was more that you could have given, then satisfaction will be forever out of reach. I suppose there is peace in knowing your limitations.Of course I talk like I have a clue. Truth is all I have are theories, theories and fear. What if your best will never be good enough even for yourself? It puts a damper on enthusiasm to say the least. If you don't put it all out there, then there is always the hope of achievement. If you give all you have to give, if this is the best you can do and just can't cut it, then what? What happens to the dream? Where does it go? Do you all of a sudden not want what you've always wanted? Will it always cause a twang of pain knowing that you're just not good enough? Does it have to be all or nothing? Sometimes baby steps are a cop out. Sometimes a little bit doesn't go a long way. Sometimes fear really does win. Untapped potential and a life unrealized are the saddest concepts for me.Ugh, I always seem to depress myself. I'm going to bed. Good Night All.
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Smoked Stained

Don't want a smokey heartDarkened by seething rageNever looked to be this uglyThe tiniest of particles,Grates the soul unrecognizableConceptualize simplicitySay what you meanMean what you sayThere is no room for filler or fluffWanting so much to trustTo believe in wordsTo read the silenceTainted by desireWarped by sensibilityResponsibility temporarily negates joyThe places that linger are all stained grayWith gray, all is allowableAll is forgivable and can be forgottenRight or wrong isn't foggyDon't want a smokey heartThere is no honor with no rules
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ouch

i fell today...apparently not all of the ice is gone from the horrible snow storm last week.It was beautiful when I woke up and all the snow around my apartment was gone and melted. I was able to ride my bike down the hill on Madison Ave to the lake Washington loop and get to the side streets where less street traffic travels. As I was riding up a small valley in my commute my back tires started to spin and I was getting nowhere. I noticed it was all ice going up the hill and I walked up the rest of the way. At the top the roads looked great, and I got back on my bike. The next thing I know, I've lost control of my front wheel and my back tire fish tails out from under me and I fall on my shoulder and ass. The gears to my bike stab my ankle and I'm bleeding through my sock. So that sucked.But the funny part about all of this, I wasn't too hurt just a little bloody. My ankle and blood scared the guy on the bus next to me...It wasn't oozing out, if it was bad i won't have continued to commute to work. This guy looked like he was about to pass out from the site of a small amount of blood localized to my sock! He actually stared at it for about a minute then got up and sat somewhere else. But that's OK...I feel kind of stupid for even trying to bike to work (my shoulder hates me now!)
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posh

over analysis is dangerous. there once was a man who over analyzed and he died young. well, younger than he would have if he hadn't over-analyzed.
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How it all works

A new union has formed the 2 clans have gathered past present future crashchange of name change of address change of clothesthe elder women have gathered to discussthe men pretend it didn't happen at allhow will it all endi have my doubtsrelease your handsget soft againlet down your guardlet the air out of your lungs....don't forgetit will never happen if you only fear itpretend it is ok or you will only make it worseclose your eyessee how you want itsee itlet there be a hero even if you know the truthlet that truth gogetting past my pastall can be forgottenit must
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work work work...

Today is all about the working....I've been asked to come in tomorrow, damn testing yet again. It was to be a nice day off, actually an extra day off. BUT no...I've got to come in cause they need me to do shit yet again. I don't get paid enough to do this job....But it is a good job. So I guess I should just enjoy the OT.
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trees in winter

night comes over snow
hungry for silver,
less black than alive
with glimmer from nowhere.
trees burn with angles
seared on the white.
here, days ago
the ice took its payment
branches collapsing
to chiaroscuro -
these split-headed giants
flung down their due.
litter, dark litter
everywhere glistening
broken and bent
edges ice-lined;
tall fathers bent-armed
and begging pursue
the night with its shadows,
its cloaks and their light.
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kiddae

advice:dont talk. if you dont talk then they wont talk back and you wont become frightened of telephones. you wont sit on the end of your bed staring at a friendly text message from an unknown number and be filled with dread. you wont abandon your empty blogs as they suddenly inexplicably are found by good natured people. you wont have anyone to avoid. no friends. no complications. no fear. god have mercy why do i fear people so badly. i hate you and i fear you and i hate you. i hate you. i hate you.
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Between Here and There

It's hard enough to sleep, even more so to sleep deeply enough to dream. With a worn out mind, exhausted, I stumble to bed. Fleeting images race by my mind's eye, just bits and pieces, bits and pieces. Lips in black and white. I've seen them before, like a close up snapshot. Familiar. I can almost feel their warmth, their softness and strength. Whose are they? Warm breath escapes them with the slightest of sighs. So enticing.Then, there is an eye. Just one. In a shade of blue that seems almost man made. How can something so beautiful really exist without personal enhancement? A plastic thought in a plastic world. A thought for another time. Long eyelashes blink once, twice. It sees my soul, and as I drift off I can feel the wetness on my cheek. Not conscious enough to connect the dots, just awake enough to know that I am naked. My inner-self gazed upon with an equally naked eye. The eye of a stranger so familiar that I ache to see the face to which it belongs. Bare, vulnerable, and ...free. The tear is cold in the night air as it dries upon my cheek.Though undoubtedly I must dream deeply, that is all that remains by morning. Those few brief images and a feeling. A sense of acceptance in spite of faults. A lightness that emphasizes the weight that I was unaware that I carry. The freedom to soar high above myself, above the self that I see every day, above who I have caged myself into. In that brief precursor to slumber, have I found truth? I can't help but wonder if they were subconscious clues to enlightenment. Perhaps they are the foyer to pathways of introspection that I have yet to explore. Still, I find myself struggling to hold on to that minuscule feeling of liberation of self.Evermore present is the sense that I must know the person who holds the key to my escape. My conscious mind assumes that I hold the key myself. Alas, my eyes are brown like the Earth and not blue like the sky. Those lips, full and warm, too are not my own. As I fight to place these parts into logical places, I realize that there is no place for logic here. I must loosen my grasp on what reality claims to be, on my stern perceptions of what may and may not be. I must stop analyzing and realize that there is hope that I can release myself from whatever is binding. I felt it. It is the reality I choose to believe exists.I close my eyes and try to go back to that place. That place where worries no longer exist. That place inside myself that ignores tension and releases stress. The memory is still fresh and the feeling, though fleeting, still exists. I fear that, before long I will not be able to relive it so easily, that I will, in an effort to find that peace in my conscious life, eradicate its very existence.
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Good Eggs

I love the fact that all the boys are grateful little kiddies. As they ran around today with all their new little playthings, I was warmed to see how elated they were. I suppose I was worried that I couldn't give all that I wanted. But we must be doing something right. They were thrilled and happy and excited. I am a proud Momma. They drive me nuts, but I wouldn't trade a second of it, not one. I'm all excited because i finally got some good pictures of them. The oldest refuses to smile for the camera. The joy of Christmas is truly a magical thing.
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goodmorning

dont you ever, ever say that again. you little shit. i bought that for you. you better enjoy it. i dont give a shit! turn around and fucking look at me. show me some goddamn fucking respect. this little vacuum cleaner just blows dust around. you cannot tell me that has a filter on it! im sorry, im just trying to get you out of bed. you need to get up. paul. paul. get up. i asked you nicely. youre not sick and im not stupid. i'll tell you what. sorry. the house is on fire. now. you fucking hear me? im not buying you stuff. i dont give a fuck! pick that the fuck up! you understand me? quit your bitching.and then crackling noises
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x-mas

how exactly to use this space? compelling it is. and a perfect sinkhole.

today, christmas. Pure gift-giving... consumerism, ok, yes, rampant, but love eats that for lunch...

lights like stars, snow on the melt, wrapping paper like colored wings. ribbons.

House of gold-giving, a joy to men,
Plated high with gold. It is right that I grant you
These jeweled treasures. Be ... gracious in deeds,
Winner of hall-joys, in your great strength.
Each noble heart is true to the other
Every kind heart death-loyal ...
(-Beowulf)

in socks & slippers, shuffling down late in the winter light.

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chapter 7

I just wanna cry!CRY OUT LOUD!!!!cry so that someone will hear me and someone will taste my tears... I simply feel alone! everyone is special only for two first weeks/everyone longs to be appreciated/what for/ to be touched, but play a stranger who takes care 'cause it's more valuable than real care/hurts/annoys/hypocrisy flourishes/blurred vision/brokeni don't know what's happened, but everything falls apart leaving me feel abandoned. that's right but of no hope/no goodoh God, GOD!!by the way, I've to be happy and satisfied.parents are far away, don't care, no real control, but i've got money and everything that i want, study at the best univer that i could have here, by this time no real problems, i have a boyfriend who seems to love me, i have friends who seem to be real and believe me, i have the opportunity to attend all the courses i choose, to get all the things that i want, i got opinions for me being beautiful, i got opinions for me being clever, i've got all the parts of a normal body, i've got all the senses and even more having synaesthesia, i am determined in my morals, determined in the belief (orthodoxy), never read a book that i choose and didn't like, i have an access to everything i want to listen look taste watch try make, but...it seems to be understood in another lifeit all is for another life, all the miracles i choose to be in my life are for another right now/it should be quite different to suit conditionsi wanna say: I Love You!!! and love the whole world for free, but when i say it, i tie my hands/for freedom.
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Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas one and all and wishing Radiohead and their fans all over the world a Peaceful New Year

I love this photo of Thom's
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