My own coreography

There are moments in the dance of our life when the tune is lively and the tempo is fast. Those are the moments when you want to swing from cloud to cloud and bask in the light of the sun. Yes, the times when the dance floor is full, and the energy from the crowd is contagious.

Then at other times, you find when the tempo slows and the crowd begins to thin, and you can waltz underneath the light of the moon. A beautiful minuet, the rays of the moon carrying you from star to star in a dance through the wonder of infinity.

Still, there are those moments, when you find yourself performing a solitary pirouette within the quiet of your own heart. The only music that remains is the music created by your own spirit - a slow dance from within. Here within your intimate solo, you can immerse yourself in the all encompassing melody of you. Here - it matters not the tempo or tune, the sunshine or moon, but only the melody of the slow dance within.

Myself....by Edgar Guest

I have to live with myself and so
I want to be fit for myself to know.

I want to be able as days go by,
always to look myself straight in the eye;

I don't want to stand with the setting sun
and hate myself for the things I have done.

I don't want to keep on a closet shelf
a lot of secrets about myself

and fool myself as I come and go
into thinking no one else will ever know

the kind of person I really am,
I don't want to dress up myself in sham.

I want to go out with my head erect
I want to deserve all men's respect;

but here in the struggle for fame and wealth
I want to be able to like myself.

I don't want to look at myself and know that
I am bluster and bluff and empty show.

I never can hide myself from me;
I see what others may never see;

I know what others may never know,
I never can fool myself and so,

whatever happens I want to be
self respecting and conscience free.

The joker

He laughs;

He laughs at Hurt and Pain,

At the promises left unfulfilled, the memories unformed,

At the songs stuck unsung in his heart,

He laughs at the silence - heavy with thoughts unexpressed,

He laughs at the enourmous wasteland of dreams,

He laugh at you and me, and at life itself;

And as the tears come, he close his eyes,

As darkness fills him, and therein he rests-

In a restless sleep.

 

P.S. after THE END

Memories are just not an individual's ability to retain and recall information, it is much more than that. Memories stuck for a lifetime, they drag you for a lifetime. Whatever you attempt to do to de -attach yourself, they always comes back to you in the most unexpected form. They may make you sad, happy, gloomy or crabby, but they will make sure to leave their silent footprints on your subconsciousness. Memories allow you to rejoice in other people's good fortunes, yet they withdraw you from your own fortunes. Memories are sometimes like eating your favourite dish with a bucketful of salt, pepper and chilly powder; yet memories are like providing a permanence of an ice cube in the desert of loneliness.

Memories are like ghost stories, they scare you, they excite you, they beat the hell out of you. They come silently in your mind, without any pretensions or provocations.They bring out the emotional vulnerability inside you, they bring a new personality outside to others. Memories help you in pushing your inner limits, it test the predefined and rigid boundaries in your life. Memories open the new avenues of love, it also close down the old illusions of lust. Memories provide you with an inner peace of mind, it also provide the outbursts of excruciation. Memories are the one which can provide the most ecstatic, euphoric, overwhelming joys of life...yet, memories are the one which can kill you with their unabashed, brazen, and sullen innuendos.

Memories are like pins in the voodoo doll, killing you slowly, sucking your blood gradually. They are not just interceding by the supreme human affairs...but are ruled by the unknown, unwanted and unjustified spirits. Memories form the foundation of self love or for that matter love in any relationship. Memories are the single ego boosting device, yet the most soul destroying advice. Memories are the pre-requisite of loving each other, yet memories become the anti-requisite for loving oneself. Memories provides with the self confidence unswerving by the outside events and opinions, yet they are the one who destroy the inner soul's effects and sentiments.

Memories are a true interaction with one's soul...one of the most fearfully feral variety, one which noshes under the spirit, one which nibbles away at your courage, one which spits out scraps of fear, regret and sadness. Memories are like climaxing the subtle sweetness down your throat, yet don't stop slinging till its too bitter. Memories are the stolen snippets of silence, yet they are the most boisterous trail blazers rapped in the pathetic, pretentious pap. Memories are like a brutish beast seeking nourishment in the province of your head and heart, yet memories are the torch bearers for a peaceful and colorful society. 

 

In the end, Memories are what is left after something happens, yet does not completely unhappen...

Communication skills

Why do I think this way?
Why do I not think like others do?
Why do I imagine conversations with others,
Conversations where I actually make sense,
Conversations where others understand.
Or at least try to comprehend
Rather than close their minds to me.
Discounting me in their minds.
Not even trying to understand.
Just putting me below them.
I do not think as others do.
I do not think just on the subject,
But just imagine arguments.
Rational arguments.
Arguments where I say how I truly feel.
Arguments to learn my opinions.
Arguments no one loses.
Arguments where no one gets hurt.
Arguments that accomplish something.
Without bringing in personal problems.
Without causing pain.
I wish more arguments could be solved
In the way I imagine discussions.
A way that causes no pain.
This is only a dream.
One that may never see this side of my mind.

About me: likes and.....likes :)

I haven't been very nice to myself lately. I'm not sure why, but I've been indulging in some very self deprecating behavior. My usual can-do attitude as been replaced with, "I can't" or "I'm too tired". I don't like that. So, in an effort to boost the ole morale, I've decided to create a list of things I like about myself. Here's the list, and as always, it's in random order -.- ..

1. I like my eyes. They never fail to get me compliments.

2. I like how much I've grown up, especially in the last couple of months.

3. I like my loyalty. Sometimes, though, I hang on to things a bit too long when I should have just let go a long time ago. However, no one can ever say I'm not a loyal friend.

4. I like my heart. I have a big one.

5. I like that I'm an kindergarten teacher.

6. I like that I'm not afraid to express myself, either verbally or through my writing.

7. I like that I love to read. I'm hoping to instill this in my future children, too.

8. I like that I'm dependable.

9. I like that I'm not afraid to be far away from home. I actually like it.

10. I like that it doesn't take me long to feel comfortable with new situations and places. I adjust well.

11. I like that I know a little bit about a lot of things. It makes for interesting conversation.

12. I like that I say what I mean and mean what I say.

13. I like that I don't use people. I wish, however, I could say that I've never been used.

14. I like that I'm not afraid to stand up in front of a whole bunch of people and speak. I'm not intimidated by much.

15. I like that I am doing things the "right" way.

16. I like how I see further than the human body.

17. I like that I the have strenght and determination of an army, when needed.

18. I like my great memory and the way it manages to storage tons of information.

19. I like how I am reliable and the voice of authority from time to time.

20. I like that I can think of all of these things I like about myself ;)

Love is temporary madness?

Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. 

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.