Saturday, September 6, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
I can’t believe in so many things, faith…I must, no more pixie dust. What is it faith and trust. Oh yes. Speeches and sermons, about with comfort and forgiveness and they have no hold, no lasting condition to change the world. Because we do not listen. Because we are not meek. It is weakness that we fear, when the meek are to inherit the earth. I am weak and envious. Envious all the more so of things that I do not possess any longer. Trust, patience, understanding, not in this order, randomly placed words that hold nothing except to the author. I do not want to proceed. I want to wallow and dissolve. But this, I cannot. Because he would not want it to be so. This i have to remember, but it seems so shallow a thing as mourning. Because he is saved, and I am the worrier of my life, of four little girls, again all alone. So selfish an idea of living my life without him. Of not having or seeing or touching or hugging or holding…or holding. My entire life without holding. How has this come to be expected of me. How can I. I cannot. I do not want to be strong. Not for anything. I have never wanted to be strong. And this again is on me, like an evil demon to torture my already rotting soul. But not rotted as I had thought it was, for it was perfectly content, but in my narrow selfish ways, I chose to be tortured, allowing what was fostered to rot away and fall off dead, again, leaving me hallow and then complain to the world that I had been robbed of any goodness.
...is starving, sickened, desperate. Restless. Sick. The sickness seeps in. no, it’s floods, unlike anything else. Nothing I’ve ever lived through. And I’ve lived through everything else, can help me. Can prepare one. Can release one. Can allow something to premiere as happiness. It’s sickness. And persevered drowning of the soul. My life and heart and spirit have been sucked out of my body. I laugh, because I forget, I forgot that it has actually occurred. Not because I cannot believe it. I cannot believe it. But because I cannot live with it having happened. I cannot. He is my harbor, my safety. My boy. He has always loved me, his entire life, he never asked or expected or needed anything. He gave everything of him, and he always loved me. Do you know how that feels, to have someone love you, unconditionally forever. Forever. And then they leave. They are taken. And you can’t dare to breathe or to be strong. Because you feel as if the life was sucked from your bones. But you are suffered to live still. And there is life that still needs you, and you have no idea how you are going to live it alone. How are you going to live it alone. And what happens the day that your youngest daughter doesn’t remember Ryan. What happens. When.
...is starving, sickened, desperate. Restless. Sick. The sickness seeps in. no, it’s floods, unlike anything else. Nothing I’ve ever lived through. And I’ve lived through everything else, can help me. Can prepare one. Can release one. Can allow something to premiere as happiness. It’s sickness. And persevered drowning of the soul. My life and heart and spirit have been sucked out of my body. I laugh, because I forget, I forgot that it has actually occurred. Not because I cannot believe it. I cannot believe it. But because I cannot live with it having happened. I cannot. He is my harbor, my safety. My boy. He has always loved me, his entire life, he never asked or expected or needed anything. He gave everything of him, and he always loved me. Do you know how that feels, to have someone love you, unconditionally forever. Forever. And then they leave. They are taken. And you can’t dare to breathe or to be strong. Because you feel as if the life was sucked from your bones. But you are suffered to live still. And there is life that still needs you, and you have no idea how you are going to live it alone. How are you going to live it alone. And what happens the day that your youngest daughter doesn’t remember Ryan. What happens. When.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
SAND and STONE
SAND and STONE
TWO FRIENDS WERE WALKING THROUGH THE DESERT. DURING SOME POINT OF THE JOURNEY, THEY HAD AN ARGUMENT; AND ONE FRIEND SLAPPED THE OTHER ONE IN THE FACE. THE ONE WHO GOT SLAPPED WAS HURT, BUT WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING, WROTE IN THE SAND: TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE. THEY KEPT ON WALKING, UNTIL THEY FOUND AN OASIS, WHERE THEY DECIDED TO TAKE A BATH THE ONE WHO HAD BEEN SLAPPED GOT STUCK IN THE MIRE AND STARTED DROWNING, BUT THE FRIEND SAVED HIM. AFTER HE RECOVERED FROM THE NEAR DROWNING, HE WROTE ON A STONE: "TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE ". THE FRIEND WHO HAD SLAPPED AND SAVED HIS BEST FRIEND ASKED HIM, "AFTER I HURT YOU, YOU WROTE IN THE SAND AND NOW, YOU WRITE ON A STONE, WHY?" THE FRIEND REPLIED "WHEN SOMEONE HURTS US WE SHOULD WRITE IT DOWN IN SAND, WHERE WINDS OF FORGIVENESS CAN ERASE IT AWAY. BUT, WHEN SOMEONE DOES SOMETHING GOOD FOR US, WE MUST ENGRAVE IT IN STONE WHERE NO WIND CAN EVER ERASE IT." LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND AND TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE. THEY SAY IT TAKES A MINUTE TO FIND A SPECIAL PERSON, AN HOUR TO APPRECIATE THEM, A DAY TO LOVE THEM, BUT THEN AN ENTIRE LIFE TO FORGET THEM. TAKE THE TIME TO LIVE! DO NOT VALUE THE THINGS YOU HAVE IN YOUR LIFE, BUT VALUE WHO YOU HAVE IN YOUR LIFE ! -posted by Ryan Aron Casey
TWO FRIENDS WERE WALKING THROUGH THE DESERT. DURING SOME POINT OF THE JOURNEY, THEY HAD AN ARGUMENT; AND ONE FRIEND SLAPPED THE OTHER ONE IN THE FACE. THE ONE WHO GOT SLAPPED WAS HURT, BUT WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING, WROTE IN THE SAND: TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE. THEY KEPT ON WALKING, UNTIL THEY FOUND AN OASIS, WHERE THEY DECIDED TO TAKE A BATH THE ONE WHO HAD BEEN SLAPPED GOT STUCK IN THE MIRE AND STARTED DROWNING, BUT THE FRIEND SAVED HIM. AFTER HE RECOVERED FROM THE NEAR DROWNING, HE WROTE ON A STONE: "TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE ". THE FRIEND WHO HAD SLAPPED AND SAVED HIS BEST FRIEND ASKED HIM, "AFTER I HURT YOU, YOU WROTE IN THE SAND AND NOW, YOU WRITE ON A STONE, WHY?" THE FRIEND REPLIED "WHEN SOMEONE HURTS US WE SHOULD WRITE IT DOWN IN SAND, WHERE WINDS OF FORGIVENESS CAN ERASE IT AWAY. BUT, WHEN SOMEONE DOES SOMETHING GOOD FOR US, WE MUST ENGRAVE IT IN STONE WHERE NO WIND CAN EVER ERASE IT." LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND AND TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE. THEY SAY IT TAKES A MINUTE TO FIND A SPECIAL PERSON, AN HOUR TO APPRECIATE THEM, A DAY TO LOVE THEM, BUT THEN AN ENTIRE LIFE TO FORGET THEM. TAKE THE TIME TO LIVE! DO NOT VALUE THE THINGS YOU HAVE IN YOUR LIFE, BUT VALUE WHO YOU HAVE IN YOUR LIFE ! -posted by Ryan Aron Casey
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Quite possibly...you had never known it would be this way...One where love ceases to need and challenges are left unstruggled. There is no new to replace the old ways. I heard today, that penguins mate for life. Sun hawks and penguins? Then it follows that humans do not. Not what is honest pure, integral, or even ever just. By ever I mean to imply a sort of always. The only kind that can exist when in fact all humans are destined to die, and forever, so far, exists only in faith. Why do you give up part of your soul for this tiny interpretation of intimacy when you want his heart. It is not yours, even in this tiny moment, you do not dare to fool yourself. And would you ever to be happy if it were. Because this would not be enough. Suffocation by love could only be satisfying if it were ecliptic. Ellipses. Why has no one tried to sell you a story on ellipses. You see things to their end, but you close your eyes. They spread the country: flee you rotten fool, for I would swallow you whole and mar your bones with my heart. And then you will ask after me, to who stands before you now, and ask where I have gone…you tore at my very living soul until it was dead at your feet, and you ask after me…they tell you to look at the moon. How many scenes of moons and Moroccan palaces have you heard now? Go and dazzle your very blood. You are flooded with insignificant memories that lead to the devastation that came inevitably, yet if these things were to have been changed, if they were not to have been compromised, if they had not to been altered, then it might not have been devastation and decay as it is now. You made your mother flush- you were just eight then. She was to stay home after the baby. This was to be your new career. Then it would have ended differently perhaps, is it always the same end, or is rotten demise not at all bad, if that is where you are to end up. Is it all really, quite actually, what you were intended to do, and the path that we take to get there, sometimes however easy, clear, yet ignored because these struggles would be too painful for us to actually contemplate an end to such ridiculous things. We bother with faith because it leads us directly to salvation. A complete and utter love that can only be properly described by someone who has actually attained it. No spoken words for ten days, he thinks that it would be very good for me. Siddhartha and the alchemist would accompany you on these trips, I’m sure. Right. Then why did you write, and why have you not spoken of it. And what was it meant for. Comfort perhaps? This is how I will interpret the letters. How very kind, at the most appropriate point when encouragement could only be taken kindly, not untoward. My very kind friend believes that I should not talk ill of myself, even of my palms….it is gone. you did not look up, your courage is unspoken, and you believe that he will know this, that a shroud of gorgeous desirable 'something' must surround you and he will therefore know? i am sorry, i could not even save myself. silly silly girl has grown wrinkled and warn. you are to meet him this year. it being the very last of your years in your twenties. he will be ethnic and you will not at first think of him, and he will love you until the end of your days...
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