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| nothings changed the senates still corrupt & the emporer remains insane, and every day, is a new strain of slaughter, supply lines are less protected, evil on all sides, eye can smell the death on your flesh--creeping in, trapped within the twisting fingers of fear, and all eye see is ewe, that face, those eyes, burning like leprosy, eye can see u there poisoning the air, prostituing Nationalism, and eye want to attack, to rip out your heart and lay you flat on your back, and vomit a world of agony and truth into your throbbing illness of memory...and hate guides our way, eye long for the icy slap of a belt across my back, for the acceptance of death and blind cave war, the giving sleep of depression, the sweet elucidation of savage meaningless agression, chiseled in the meaty forearms of Mother Jupiter and his slave disciples, in the harem tents--outside, just beyond the edges--eye ride, a cycoptic mare in the fires of imagination. feeding my disease, a river of plagues, eye need something to remind me I'm still sinning that pain is important, that wurdz matter, that healing is possible, that eye am not alone ...in this --guard the houses--triple the watch,--Maidens, dig up your sorcery --sirens, sharpen your rocks..ewe will eat my pain again. whatever you need unite messiah ME --Wurdz by Otep Shamaya |
| no longer annoymous. May 08, 2006 12:55 a.m. Related Reading So the other night I spent an hour and a half writing the most amazing and analyical thing I've written it quite sometime, and it died in a tragic computer crash. I think I'm going to attempt to write it again. This means moody music and clothing. So what is it I have to say? I'm thinking about locking this diary, or maybe getting a gold membership so I have atleast the possiblity of locking. I desprately miss my candided catharsis. I miss my annonymity. I have maintained this little journal for so long. There is a reason I used to write fairly consistantly, when I never managed to keep a hand written journal. I am much better at typing, and I enjoy illustrating my point with pictures. Over the past year I haven't written very often, and my entries haven't been very deep or introspective. It is entertaining how everyone does this diaryland thing differently. there are those to write occasionally to tell a funny tale or joke. My personal favorite are Craig and Sturge. And there are those who are the charismatic voices at the table. They aren't shy to share with us the details of their daily lives. They entertain us. They are great storytellers and keep us interested. Even when their lives are entirely exciting, they always find a way to make it seem like they are. Of course I mean the sexy rockstar from California or the Aussie wanton sex goddess. ...and of course my boyfriend fits into that catagory. Now, at the other end of the spectrum, there are a few of use that choose the dark corners. away from the crowds. We are the red wine instead of the white. We are a bit heavier, a bit darker. ....Mr. Munch is a perfect example. We like our dark corners. We look out on the crowd. We send our musing out though our fingers. We like it here, we don't like the light. But now, I've be pulled from my little corner and sitting center stage at the popular table. the light makes all the difference. It is quite different than sending out candid museings into the vast universe of cyberspace. it is difficult knowing that not only is every word I type being read by someone who I care about, but also a number of people are protective of him, and silently looking for flaws in me. I can't really open up about my thoughts, and concerns, my hopes my dreams, ...not in a way that is private and just for me. This has been very difficult for me. I've been bottling things up, or bothering others with detailed accounts. ..all things I would perfer to keep to myself. part of what brought on this entry was my purchase of the new Jewel album. She said she wanted to make an album so honest that it was uncomfortable to listen to. I'm not sure if that is exactly true, but it is honest, and vulnerable, and some of the songs ring too true for comfort. It is a lovely little album. and it has made me greatly introspective. .......as I mentioned, I wrote all this better the other night. It was very beautiful and profound. but tonight it is concise. as far as locking is concern, we'll see if I attempt to figure out the pay pal thing for a gold count. |
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