I do not think of history

For there you are, smilingly

Going where I go and stand

Casting noon-time shadows

Placing endless question marks

Sentence after sentence

Burning all the photographs

On which we seemed too happy

I think of future and a time

Where you are no more

Go burn someone else’s dreams

Whispering doubts in other ears

No more will you hold me down

Neither will the pain restrain me:

The shadows in my mind are past

In cabin'd ships at sea,

The boundless blue on every side expanding,

With whistling winds and music of the waves, the large imperious waves,

Or some lone bark buoy'd on the dense marine,

Where joyous full of faith, spreading white sails,

She cleaves the ether mid the sparkle and the foam of day, or under

        many a star at night,

By sailors young and old haply will I, a reminiscence of the land, be read,

In full rapport at last.

Here are our thoughts, voyagers' thoughts,

Here not the land, firm land, alone appears, may then by them be said,

The sky o'erarches here, we feel the undulating deck beneath our feet,

We feel the long pulsation, ebb and flow of endless motion,

The tones of unseen mystery, the vague and vast suggestions of the

        briny world, the liquid-flowing syllables,

The perfume, the faint creaking of the cordage, the melancholy rhythm,

The boundless vista and the horizon far and dim are all here,

And this is ocean's poem.

Then falter not O book, fulfil your destiny,

You not a reminiscence of the land alone,

You too as a lone bark cleaving the ether, purpos'd I know not

        whither, yet ever full of faith,

Consort to every ship that sails, sail you!

Bear forth to them folded my love, (dear mariners, for you I fold it

        here in every leaf;)

Speed on my book! spread your white sails my little bark athwart the

        imperious waves,

Chant on, sail on, bear o'er the boundless blue from me to every sea,

This song for mariners and all their ships.

Technology

Data

Tracking

Privacy, an illusion to keep secrets,

But not yours.

        Some writers have so confounded society with government, as to leave little or no distinction between them; whereas they are not only different, but have different origins. Society is produced by our wants, and government by our wickedness; the former promotes our happiness positively by uniting our affections, the latter negatively by restraining our vices. The one encourages intercourse, the other creates distinctions. The first a patron, the last a punisher.

        Society in every state is a blessing, but government even in its best state is but a necessary evil; in its worst state an intolerable one; for when we suffer, or are exposed to the same miseries by a government, which we might expect in a country without government, our calamity is heightened by reflecting that we furnish the means by which we suffer. Government, like dress, is the badge of lost innocence; the palaces of kings are built on the ruins of the bowers of paradise. For were the impulses of conscience clear, uniform, and irresistibly obeyed, man would need no other lawgiver; but that not being the case, he finds it necessary to surrender up a part of his property to furnish means for the protection of the rest; and this he is induced to do by the same prudence which in every other case advises him out of two evils to choose the least. Wherefore, security being the true design and end of government, it unanswerably follows that whatever form thereof appears most likely to ensure it to us, with the least expence and greatest benefit, is preferable to all others.

        In order to gain a clear and just idea of the design and end of government, let us suppose a small number of persons settled in some sequestered part of the earth, unconnected with the rest, they will then represent the first peopling of any country, or of the world. In this state of natural liberty, society will be their first thought. A thousand motives will excite them thereto, the strength of one man is so unequal to his wants, and his mind so unfitted for perpetual solitude, that he is soon obliged to seek assistance and relief of another, who in his turn requires the same. Four or five united would be able to raise a tolerable dwelling in the midst of a wilderness, but one man might labour out of the common period of life without accomplishing any thing; when he had felled his timber he could not remove it, nor erect it after it was removed; hunger in the mean time would urge him from his work, and every different want call him a different way. Disease, nay even misfortune would be death, for though neither might be mortal, yet either would disable him from living, and reduce him to a state in which he might rather be said to perish than to die.

        Thus necessity, like a gravitating power, would soon form our newly arrived emigrants into society, the reciprocal blessings of which, would supersede, and render the obligations of law and government unnecessary while they remained perfectly just to each other; but as nothing but heaven is impregnable to vice, it will unavoidably happen, that in proportion as they surmount the first difficulties of emigration, which bound them together in a common cause, they will begin to relax in their duty and attachment to each other; and this remissness, will point out the necessity, of establishing some form of government to supply the defect of moral virtue.

        Some convenient tree will afford them a State-House, under the branches of which, the whole colony may assemble to deliberate on public matters. It is more than probable that their first laws will have the title only of Regulations, and be enforced by no other penalty than public disesteem. In this first parliament every man, by natural right, will have a seat.

        But as the colony increases, the public concerns will increase likewise, and the distance at which the members may be separated, will render it too inconvenient for all of them to meet on every occasion as at first, when their number was small, their habitations near, and the public concerns few and trifling. This will point out the convenience of their consenting to leave the legislative part to be managed by a select number chosen from the whole body, who are supposed to have the same concerns at stake which those who appointed them, and who will act in the same manner as the whole body would act were they present. If the colony continue increasing, it will become necessary to augment the number of the representatives, and that the interest of every part of the colony may be attended to, it will be found best to divide the whole into convenient parts, each part sending its proper number; and that the elected might never form to themselves an interest separate from the electors, prudence will point out the propriety of having elections often; because as the elected might by that means return and mix again with the general body of the electors in a few months, their fidelity to the public will be secured by the prudent reflexion of not making a rod for themselves. And as this frequent interchange will establish a common interest with every part of the community, they will mutually and naturally support each other, and on this (not on the unmeaning name of king) depends the strength of government, and the happiness of the governed.

        Here then is the origin and rise of government; namely, a mode rendered necessary by the inability of moral virtue to govern the world; here too is the design and end of government, viz. freedom and security. And however our eyes may be dazzled with show, or our ears deceived by sound; however prejudice may warp our wills, or interest darken our understanding, the simple voice of nature and of reason will say, it is right.

        I draw my idea of the form of government from a principle in nature, which no art can overturn, viz. that the more simple any thing is, the less liable it is to be disordered; and the easier repaired when disordered; and with this maxim in view, I offer a few remarks on the so much boasted constitution of England. That it was noble for the dark and slavish times in which it was erected, is granted. When the world was over run with tyranny the least remove therefrom was a glorious rescue. But that it is imperfect, subject to convulsions, and incapable of producing what it seems to promise, is easily demonstrated.

        Absolute governments (tho’ the disgrace of human nature) have this advantage with them, that they are simple; if the people suffer, they know the head from which their suffering springs, know likewise the remedy, and are not bewildered by a variety of causes and cures. But the constitution of England is so exceedingly complex, that the nation may suffer for years together without being able to discover in which part the fault lies, some will say in one and some in another, and every political physician will advise a different medicine.

        I know it is difficult to get over local or long standing prejudices, yet if we will suffer ourselves to examine the component parts of the English constitution, we shall find them to be the base remains of two ancient tyrannies, compounded with some new republican materials.

        First.—The remains of monarchical tyranny in the person of the king.

        Secondly.—The remains of aristocratical tyranny in the persons of the peers.

        Thirdly.—The new republican materials, in the persons of the commons, on whose virtue depends the freedom of England.

        The two first, by being hereditary, are independent of the people; wherefore in a constitutional sense they contribute nothing towards the freedom of the state.

        To say that the constitution of England is a union of three powers reciprocally checking each other, is farcical, either the words have no meaning, or they are flat contradictions.

        To say that the commons is a check upon the king, presupposes two things:

        First.—That the king is not to be trusted without being looked after, or in other words, that a thirst for absolute power is the natural disease of monarchy.

        Secondly.—That the commons, by being appointed for that purpose, are either wiser or more worthy of confidence than the crown.

        But as the same constitution which gives the commons a power to check the king by withholding the supplies, gives afterwards the king a power to check the commons, by empowering him to reject their other bills; it again supposes that the king is wiser than those whom it has already supposed to be wiser than him. A mere absurdity!

        There is something exceedingly ridiculous in the composition of monarchy; it first excludes a man from the means of information, yet empowers him to act in cases where the highest judgment is required. The state of a king shuts him from the world, yet the business of a king requires him to know it thoroughly; wherefore the different parts, by unnaturally opposing and destroying each other, prove the whole character to be absurd and useless.

        Some writers have explained the English constitution thus; the king, say they, is one, the people another; the peers are an house in behalf of the king; the commons in behalf of the people; but this hath all the distinctions of a house divided against itself; and though the expressions be pleasantly arranged, yet when examined they appear idle and ambiguous; and it will always happen, that the nicest construction that words are capable of, when applied to the description of some thing which either cannot exist, or is too incomprehensible to be within the compass of description, will be words of sound only, and though they may amuse the ear, they cannot inform the mind, for this explanation includes a previous question, viz. How came the king by a power which the people are afraid to trust, and always obliged to check? Such a power could not be the gift of a wise people, neither can any power, which needs checking, be from God; yet the provision, which the constitution makes, supposes such a power to exist.

        But the provision is unequal to the task; the means either cannot or will not accomplish the end, and the whole affair is a felo de se; for as the greater weight will always carry up the less, and as all the wheels of a machine are put in motion by one, it only remains to know which power in the constitution has the most weight, for that will govern; and though the others, or a part of them, may clog, or, as the phrase is, check the rapidity of its motion, yet so long as they cannot stop it, their endeavors will be ineffectual; the first moving power will at last have its way, and what it wants in speed is supplied by time.

        That the crown is this overbearing part in the English constitution needs not be mentioned, and that it derives its whole consequence merely from being the giver of places and pensions is self-evident, wherefore, though we have been wise enough to shut and lock a door against absolute monarchy, we at the same time have been foolish enough to put the crown in possession of the key.

        The prejudice of Englishmen, in favour of their own government by king, lords and commons, arises as much or more from national pride than reason. Individuals are undoubtedly safer in England than in some other countries, but the will of the king is as much the law of the land in Britain as in France, with this difference, that instead of proceeding directly from his mouth, it is handed to the people under the more formidable shape of an act of parliament. For the fate of Charles the first, hath only made kings more subtle—not more just.

        Wherefore, laying aside all national pride and prejudice in favour of modes and forms, the plain truth is, that it is wholly owing to the constitution of the people, and not to the constitution of the government that the crown is not as oppressive in England as in Turkey.

        An inquiry into the constitutional errors in the English form of government is at this time highly necessary, for as we are never in a proper condition of doing justice to others, while we continue under the influence of some leading partiality, so neither are we capable of doing it to ourselves while we remain fettered by any obstinate prejudice. And as a man, who is attached to a prostitute, is unfitted to choose or judge of a wife, so any prepossession in favour of a rotten constitution of government will disable us from discerning a good one.

They let the dust settle

It grows thick on me

Because they placed me in the back

Where no one wants to be

It's cold, and it's dark

I feel so underrated

A good read

yet I am unappreciated.

Shoved in between

Overused spines

I've never been opened

You'll see no wear signs.

It would be so nice

Just to take a vacation

Away from this shelf

I could feel relaxation.

They claim that they need me

To stick around

Just in case another cover

cannot be found.

Sometimes I say I'll jump

And plummet to my death

But I am just lonely

And that's not worth expediting my last breath.

You iz a be-ingz

a right to be iz

to exprezz

and transgrezz

your failinz

iz perceptionz

your magnificencz

iz illusionz

ze pastz

doodlez viz

extravagancez

after indulgencez

you iz not awesome

you iz not not awesome

you iz not of middle grounz

there iz only

one constant

born of truth

you iz a total

.............cunt

go fuck izself

namastez

Detective Zen Arkady has currently closed a case in Pearl River, New York, of some random acts of violence. Within the last few years of his career, he had immersed himself into the most difficult of cases in order to forget his father, whom currently resides in a special security mental institution. His family had been in shambles when his father's dissociative personality disorder had emerged. Like the flipping of a switch, his father had become a completely different person, attempting to kill the entire family. Since that incident and the extraction of his father from his home, at the age of ten, he had to help care for his sister as his mother worked. Taking only the most difficult and obscure cases of murderers in the field was the only way he could avoid his family and their concern for his sanity. The job required long hours and extraneous dedication which meant he often chose his cases over sleep and personal relationships. A sudden murder in his hometown brought him back home to his mother and sister in the hopes of catching the killer before anyone else is hurt. The next series of deaths included his sister's childhood friend whom he saw grow up. The case had now become personal as his sister goes missing the very next night. His partner begins to comment on Zen's strange mannerisms and forgetfulness, bringing only more stress into his life. The life that he had built seemed to be closing in around him. In the toughest case yet, will Detective Arkady be able to save his sister or are the clues hidden too deep within himself? 

ER

On my outside I appear to be calm

But my true self you can not see

Deep down is a revelation

There's a beast within me

I'll peacefully chat with you

No matter what the subject may be

Laughing or crying

Until you see the beast within me

I can be patient like the day is long

I'm reluctant to set it free

It causes damage beyond emotional repair

This beast within me

I try to encourage love

To contain this monster is my creed

Never wanting to hurt anyone

With this ugly beast within me

She was love overflowing. It dripped into a chalice, and it had never been emptied. It was too great a cup, occupied in the grandest halls of tribute. Everyone drank from the blood of her bleeding heart resided in that golden cup. And those who poised their lips to it received the Gods' offerings as the Gods received their adoration. She could not love just one singular person, for her love was the purest, most self-sacrificing, and that produced magic. It was from this that sprang forth Spring, flowers and water itself. Eros became instantly infatuated with her, and he wrongly wanted Agape all to himself. Erratic, lacking caution all his life, the Great Gods rightlh prohibited him seeking courtship with Agape. It came from fear. What if all of her love, the power and drive of their world, could be directed in an all consuming flame of combustion when met with Eros' desires? He was to remain on the plains of Earth, as always, spurring and flaming man's desires to produce more serving mortal servants, and that alone. But...He made many a plea and entreaty for her to run away with him and to forget what he considered to be her shallow admirers. She refused him, even though her love for him grew daily as did his attentions. His free spirit made her long for him, to be free with no bars. Agape worried. She had to love everyone equally. That was where her power came from, she did not know what was to become of her if she didn't obey it. Equitable love tempered the sheer strength of her love. Eros, brooking no refusal and becoming ravenously jealous by the day, entered the hall on a cool, starry evening, and convinced her to give him all the love she possessed; he drank all the contents of her cup of sustenance. She had died right then, as did Eros, and they created the first lovers' suicides and with it a curse; with their deaths, the bountiful spring valleys dried up and cracked like deserts. Her body turned to stone, and she was whisked away into a special part of the underworld. She herded the lost lovers of the world, harnessing their power to give to the Gods who restored the scarred Earth. She, a lost lover, and now the Queen of lost lovers.

........................................................................

Agape's tears ran black against her cheeks, underneath her black veil. She stirred an orange river with a large wooden ladle; what bobbed up from its rivets and currents were statues of lovers once possessing the warm skin that forever held a blush. Now, their skin was cold stone. She constantly wept for those the world treated so cruelly, a world that drove them to suicide. The River of Suicides, it was called, and her tears created it; indeed, she cried for all the lost lovers of the world over, and those tears made the river they drowned in within the Underworld.