Off Topic: The Flood
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  • Subject: Edited Title: my poetry.
Subject: Edited Title: my poetry.
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What I wasnt here so you chased me down to another topic just to complain about my opinion. REAL nice.

[Edited on 5/31/2004 10:41:07 PM]

  • 05.31.2004 10:40 PM PDT
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The poetry made me mad because i have to write it for school but I can't express myself that way.

  • 05.31.2004 10:43 PM PDT
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Posted by: The Reclaimer
What I wasnt here so you chased me down to another topic just to complain about my opinion. REAL nice.

I didn't mean to chase you down, actually. I saw your post in the other thread just as I was making the last post here and I snapped. I'm sorry I was being a b*tch, my bad. As for being upset about the poetry... well, let's not go there. I've been real upset since that whole PETA thing out there... ugh.

  • 05.31.2004 10:49 PM PDT
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Ok. Now back to the poetry.

  • 05.31.2004 10:51 PM PDT
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Do you mean that life is meaningless

Yes, but I'm also saying that "meaning" is a meaningless concept.

  • 06.01.2004 12:06 AM PDT
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"Zenith"

Life isn't fair,
But it's only a game,
So why bother with rules
When it all ends the same?

Will I ever look back,
Ever miss or regret
The choices that haunt me,
The choices I try to forget...

To cry would be just,
To weep would be fair,
Yet I know why I can't,
For vision is yet clear.

Though I thought I've seen love,
I must say I was wrong.
Though I wish I could change,
I know I couldn't but in song...

But in my dreams I know I'm safe,
I know the truth, though it is faint.
I see precious love every day for me,
Though in my heart I'm no saint.

I couldn't deserve my gift,
Though I strived to achieve,
For perfection is so far past...
So far, I never leave
This mire of faults
That to this world makes me cleave.

Do I know love now?
How can I be sure?
When I've been betrayed so many times,
How can I ask for more...

The answer is in the evidence,
Not the words of faithless man.
For now that truth at last comes forth,
It is time to make my stand.

As You made Yours.

-Dolorous

  • 06.01.2004 2:48 AM PDT
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"Sometimes"

Sometimes it's the little things
That bring you a smile;
That open your eyes,
That stay for a while...

Sometimes it's the subtle things
That give you a peace;
That no others can see,
That let you release...

Sometimes it's the painful things
That live in your heart;
That seem so unjust,
That your soul seems to start...

Sometimes it's the stirring things
That move your very soul;
That give your life meaning,
That no frost can grow cold...

Sometimes it's the things you see
That make you listen,
That let you believe...

For who can know the heart?
Who can try the mind
But the One who formed it
With the greatest care,
Who delivers the lost and blind?

Sometimes it's the signs He leaves
That remind us of our fate;
That we take to heart or cast away,
That the truth will simply state.

Do I see one now?
Can I know for sure
As my morning star
Crosses over her–

Sometimes it's the little things...

-Dolorous

  • 06.01.2004 2:50 AM PDT
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Just some morsels for you to chew on when you mortals wake up, though these are less philosophical, and more personal. Then again, I still find them interesting. Thanks for the comments guys.

  • 06.01.2004 2:51 AM PDT
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Mmm, morning morsels. It's too bad I'm too tired to chew very effectively. I think the combination of the stillness about me as I sit here, my current depressed state, the fact that these morsels were left for us several hours ago, and the blue-and-teal UI I'm seeing are giving me a cold impression as I read these. I'm cutting and pasting to read them later to see if I can see them in a better light.

I'm remembering some of the things that turned out in ways that I didn't like. It's like I'm blindly drifting backward, not knowing how to swim. I don't know how to feel about it anymore... some of my memories are painful, but they're mine nonetheless. Without them, I wouldn't be, or wouldn't be who I am. The idea of losing my hard-earned lessons haunts me in still moments like now. As far back as I can remember, there's only been one thing that I fear, but it gives me a dreadful, primal sense of helplessness. When my mind clears of distractions, sometimes I can almost feel a stillness coming over me... I imagine not existing, in past or future. I imagine all trace of every memory, emotion, thought, all the information I am being sealed off in a singularity- never to be known and never to know more again. I have one nightmare, and it's of me sitting alone in a mirror sphere unable to see anything but myself staring back in, trapped forever, doomed to stagnance worse than death. I'm forever clinging to the thoughts that haunt me, afraid to lose my identity if I let go of the fiery Promethean demon... afraid to fall apart into lesser peices that will never know what they once were. I have failed you...
We amuse ourselves by discovering each other. It comforts us to see ourselves reflected in our eyes, seeing that we aren't alone. There are others like us, others who feel like we do... we aren't alone...

Edit:
Well, I guess I chewed up his poetry real bad. Hmm. This kinda sneaked up on me. I think I'll call it "The Lonely Universe". That's got lots of possible interpretations...

[Edited on 6/1/2004 4:22:54 AM]

  • 06.01.2004 4:18 AM PDT
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Can anyone tell me the name of the artist from whom this came?
"Sometimes I give myself the creeps/
sometimes my mind plays tricks on me."

It gives me the heebie jeebies when my mind bounces around between somber, romantic, philosophical, and sarcastic, and then I look back from a state somewhere in the middle and feel like I've had a nap despite evidence that I was awake the whole time...

  • 06.01.2004 4:37 AM PDT
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That song is from Green Day. It's called Basket Case, and is off their International Superhits album. Listening to it right now. Good stuff...

  • 06.01.2004 10:42 AM PDT
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Thanks. I'll look(listen) for it. Talk about my mind playing tricks on me, though. My little doggy buddy died just this morning and I'm starting to see foreshadowing in recent events. I've been here passing time while trying to contact my Grandpa so I can go bury my friend's body in his back yard, and I keep seeing connections to things I've said and done in the last few days. I guess I should notice a lot of connections when I'm this preoccupied. My last memory of him before he died is him trying to keep me warm 'cause I felt like -blam!- this morning.

  • 06.01.2004 11:40 AM PDT
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As always, I'm very pleased to hear another interpretation. Good job, and good thoughts.

  • 06.01.2004 12:06 PM PDT
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"Ren,"

As I hold the limp artifact you left me with, I wonder whether to believe it was coincidence that kept me home today. The first time was so much harder... The first time his body was cold and stiff by the time I got to it, his eyes shut as if in pain, his mouth locked open as if gasping for air. This time, you let me be there soon enough to feel the last of your warmth leaving, watch your eyes change from earthy red to cloudy blue, watch the crazing glaze form over them and somehow take the life from the grinnig face you left me. Now your grin reminds me of his, a sad goodbye... This time, though, I watched you go. I know that you went quickly, with hardly time for shock or fear. Last time, I didn't know he was leaving until it was too late to say goodbye. Last time, I wasn't there to comfort him. Thank you for making it easier this time.

  • 06.01.2004 1:35 PM PDT
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hate to be perverted but "limp artifact" "so much harder"

  • 06.01.2004 1:43 PM PDT