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sugaraindrop
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Name: LiSa
Birthday: 2/22/1984
Gender: Female
Interests: ballet. tennis. pool. basketball. reading refreshingly cynical literary critiques. i stopped writing for awhile.
Expertise: I've been fully legally trained.
Occupation: They're all under me now.
Message: message me
Member Since:
10/3/2003
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| insignificant thoughts |
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♦'coffee' (actually juice blends)and cards
♥need new ideas for presents.
♣i haven't been using this table. i just changed its header title.
♦i suddenly don't understand the html for the bullet points.
♥pleasantly surprised to find that the mac i got for mummy actually comes with bluetooth, though not specified before purchase.
♣got to think of how to clear leave.
♦another hotel spree in order soon. |
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| the return to martinisi shall reward myself (no, not for any feat i've accomplished, but i just want to reward myself for how life is turning out --- feels like an emotional celebration is needed!) with a lychee martini the very next time i get to a bar.
life has zoomed on, the beauties in existence have come and some have gone (i continue to miss just the very few)
yet those vital pieces of the puzzle have remained (amid work, work, and once you gave me all that work when i had started, very marginally bright eyed, maybe brighter when you understood,)
if only to stay in slumber for awhile, they have come to life at intervals (jump, jumping everywhere, i nearly couldn't count)
never too certainly, but each and every time, better than the last. (hello again, it's been awhile, again)
oh yes, (cheers)
absolutely beautiful.
the benefit of years is something that no child can ever contest...
for the mysteries that the years bring, and layer, and bury, into a life
is absolutely
beautiful.
the dream has brought itself to life.
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| for Joe -You know, you are right. Reading your words in my previous post, i realised something -
I was on the other end of it to begin with... I was the audience in that theatre.
And perhaps, due to all those things I could not leave although I understood somewhere within that the illusion had ended.
And it is strange, the twists that life takes sometimes, isn't it?
To find myself instead on the outside of a closed door,
because i had not known yet the capacity for cruelty of the simplest kind, in humanity.
I've seen cruelty in many forms, but not quite residing beneath the face of what looked like an angel.
There is always a first for everything --- this was one of mine.
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| Return to SenderFor pure literary appreciation, I re-publish this poem, written a month or so ago.
It was written for you, you of the failed leap years.
My Audience, please read the words and feel as you would for a movie, a film that in an hour will end and you must leave the theatre without further ado. Do not linger, do not allow the thoughts to capture more than a cursory moment in your life --- for I too must not do so any longer.
Return to Sender
she backed out of the golden door
"here i will stand until the dust settles,
please speak to me, don't stop."
their gazes hold for a moment -
He takes a step towards her
with outreached hand and single sweep,
the golden door swings shut
sealing her out, himself in.
daylight vanishes, only silence remains.
she picks up a pen with shaking hands
writing letters filled with words, words, words
slipping them piece by piece beneath the door
day after day,
hour on hour
sheet after sheet,
until the pen ran dry
still she wrote, scratching imprints on paper
inkless carvings etched in vain
But down the stairs, in the hall
the postman daily rang the bell
the pile of letters grew each day
all stamped "Return to Sender".
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| compasses - to turn awayupon it we stood
maybe we paused
inconsequentially
hand in hand
we walked out towards the darkness
flanked by pillars to guide our way
camera flash, snapshot,
it was beautiful
i wish that was the last memory i had of you
but now
the last memory is a hazy mess
framed by a halo of my tears
traumatic so i don't remember
i remember only the pain
of seeing you,
both.
congratulations, my friend
wait, no, even a friend would have had more respect. | | |
| The Leap YearsI recommend all to watch the show. One of the best I've seen, with the most moving learning points to take away with you. It made me cry.
I think back to watching it now, and the irony of the entire setting (not of the show, but my reality then) brings tears to my eyes.
The movie was so beautiful because it was a commentary on how true love stands the test of time, of despair. The triumph of hoping almost against hopes, clinging onto the belief even in the unknown in spite of disappointments and disappearing acts, for unforeseen and seemingly unfair and inexplicable (at that time) circumstances.
Indeed, as though waiting for a single cycle of a leap year to come around were not long enough, this was supposed to have lasted through at least 3 cycles. Far-fetched? Maybe. But no one's saying it has to be 12 years.
One day, perhaps we will each be fortunate enough to experience love like this - two ways.
The scene replays in my mind - his disappearance, her lack of understanding, his eventual explanation only years afterwards that it was something he needed to do.
A movie is a movie. We forget the pain that makes up true life when a show like this is aired. True life has the malice and spite, the revenge, the tears that result: from disillusionment, loss of respect, shock at what extents others may go to drive a stake through your heart.
Why did Romeo and Juliet remain the most amazing story of true love, a classic that lasts until today? Because the whole account lasted a mere 3 days. And their deaths ended the whole affair completely. Any longer than 3 days, and Romeo would probably have taken Juliet's knife and killed HER - for being stupid enough to make herself look dead, (and "DECEIVING" him) when she did this to save them both, out of her love for him.
Sweet irony?
My head hurts, my eyes are burning, I need rest. | | |
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