I Hate You
You cannot say "I hate you"
Until you know what hate truly means
Those words can really break you
No matter how tough you seem
"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"
You scream and scream away
"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"
"I'll hate you 'till my dying day."
Tell that to your dying mother
Just like you always have
Tell that to your crying brother
His fault you're always mad
Just walk away; don't let it show
You really don't care
He stole your toy three years ago
He's clearly unfair
You couldn't tell her she belonged
Or say the horrors her death'd ensue
That'd be proving yourself wrong
So instead you said "I hate you"
And now you're alone
All on your own
You don't need them anyway
At least that's what you say
You don't let your tears show
She's gone now, you know
Last thing she heard before meeting her fate
Was that she was the one you promised to hate
But you think - you know - she deserved it
For taking your phone away
A stupid punishment made by an idiot
Made you do homework all day
Your brother's sobs still echo in your head
It breaks - No. It doesn't break your heart
He deserves to know that his mom's dead
For, as a toddler, spilling black paint on your art
And when you take your final breath
And slip into eternal rest
All of you that's left
Are the long-gone words
So well they knew
All they'll remember
Is "I hate you"
So forgive the annoyances
The mistakes of the past
Remember the times they cared
And make those moments last
Before time snatches them away
Make them aware of what's true
The simple phrase unspoken
"I love you"
what would my superpower be?
if i could chose to have a superpower, it would be the ability to not fear death, and be able to grant that to other people as well. not a lack of fear that would drive people into recklessness, but just a general acceptance so people can go to sleep at night.
Brown Eyed Boy
People joke that brown eyes are full of poop. Blue and green are placed on a pedestal, and I too, was guilty of this.
Blue eyes are beautiful like ocean water, like the sky. Green eyes like grass.
But have you ever seen brown eyes get hit with sunlight? A beautiful shade of amber, of honey, of flecks of gold.
Absolutely beautiful on his face speckled with freckles. His face has always been my favorite part of his appearance, and I hope that maybe, just maybe, I’ll get the chance to see him again.
The Truth About Elbows On The Table
The truth about elbows on the table
From an early age we are told to not put our elbows on the table, especially while having guests. even back in the swamp, where i matured out of the ooze, the custom was well known, and many who failed to comply were thrown to the hungry manatee, which has mercy for none. But how did this existential imperative came to be?
listen here, my friends, and hark my words.
It all goes back to the war of the roses. England changed hand from Lancaster to York, York to Lancaster again and again as the tide. It all ended (sort of) with the brutal and treacherous reign of Richard III. Richard, ever distrustful of his barons, seldom ventured out of the palace and rarely went on the royal procession , the traditional touring of the castles of the land. He mostly feared an attempt on his life while on the roads, and poisoning, and seldom drank wine, which may or may not have reminded him of a certain drowned nephew.
But there was a minimum degree of traveling that he was required to accent to. And so, just before Easter, he went on such a rare excursion , touring the strongholds that he knew with certainty would stand by him. And so, the honor and burden fell to lord after lord, as they feasted the retinue in the great halls, spending each a fortune on food and entertainment. Woe be to he, who failed to please the very, very irritable monarch.
And so , It was on Easter feast that the procession reached the estate of the Earl of Willowsby, who was known as a former Lancastrian loyalist, until he changed sides. The visit was to be his one and only chance to rehabilitate his good name, in the eyes of the crown and he spared no expense in the effort. Great amounts of foods, were brought, garments of exquisite taste, spices of great luxury. Troupes of actors, singers and story tellers were summoned. all had to be of the greatest display of sophistication and wealth. under no circumstance, should the guest find his visit boring, bland or tedious. Most of all, the Earl of Willowsby knew that his feast must surpass that of all other hosts which the king visited. And so, upon the evening, great effort was made, and the fires of the great hall were lit and the kitchen was a hive of activity.
We must digress now, to consider the life within a castle in the late middle ages. All but a very select few of the household lived in private rooms. With no electricity or other modern amenities like running water or sanitation, concentrating the household staff, retainers and guests in one large, heated room was the most practical thing to do. This giant hall was called, surprisingly, “the great hall”, all meals, were taken there, all major public events, were held , and so was all the sleeping. On days were feasting was prescribed, long tables would ring the room, around which all would sit and enjoy themselves. The most important, the chief guests would sit on raised platforms with the host and the guest of honor sitting at the midpoint of the long table. This platform, called a dais, would elevate the guests from others, and serve as a symbolic representation of the power structure . All this was accomplished thanks to the usage of trellis tables. Now, trellis tables, were no new inventions. They date back at least to roman times , if not older ages. A long, broad, plank of wood would serves as the table. On which food and drink and tableware would be placed. The plank is supported on both ends by two triangular legs. The trellis table must be easy to assemble and disassemble, as that many guests would be provided a place to sleep in the great hall itself, once the tables are cleared and the floor is swept clean. The legs of the trellis , are therefore not directly connected to the table, but held in place by articulated “trenches” , where the top points of the legs meet the table board. Apart from that, as we mentioned the board is simply a long plank of wood.
In this case, as befitting the royal visit, the greatest trellis table was erected on the dais and decorated with a rich velvet tablecloth. It was worth in it’s own a large fortune. On the evening, great plates of the best dishes were served. Fish was avoided as it was after the lent period, by which time all were quite tired of seeing the blank stare of marine animals from their plates. Large metal service trays were brought forth, holding lamb and pork, and veal and venison, pheasant and goose, hare and boar. Fruit was dearly brought from faraway lands, as were cakes and bread of all shapes and colors. Large pitchers of wine, beer and mead were placed. The household did not neglect to place silver candelabras, laden with large candles to provide lighting and freshly picked flowers in earthenware vases, to give a pleasing aroma.
You might think that the trellis table broke under the strain of such a load, placed along its extensive span. But it was not so. Trellis tables were cunningly constructed for just these occasions. More akin they were to bridges which hang between two cliff-sides than they are to the puny tables of our times. The table was built with a strong “spine” which did not allow the board to bend and sag under the weight placed upon it. Indeed, the table which was to be placed on the dais was carefully inspected by the master caretaker of the castle on the preceding day. The the Earl of Willowsby was still worried for the table and to assure it’s reliability, the table was erected in the courtyard. A horse was then made to walk upon it, carrying on its back a knight of the guard in full armor. Imagine such a sight! A table and a horse upon it with a knight riding on top!!
The table held the weight. It did not bend the slightest and after a long moment, when all the workmen and dignitaries inspected the table to their satisfaction, the knight was given a sign. He gently kicked the spurs into the warhorse’ side and the animal made a heroic leap off the table. The table was then cleaned and brought to the great hall to be erected in perpetration..
On the night of the feast, King Richard III was not in a good mood. He was never in a good mood. That was one of the things that made him so famous. That and killing his nephews and everyone who dared to irritate him. The king was not in a good mood, as we said; Reports had come in, from spies in France and in England proper. They confirmed to Richard’s distress that an enemy from abroad was conspiring with many within the kingdom to make preparations for war. He was not one to take such threats lightly. But could not ride back to London on the day, as bad weather had caught him and his men on the road. He walked from the solar, the castle’s master bedroom, which was made ready from him, into the great hall wearing his finery. Men watched him as he strode Onto the dais, avoiding his eyes, and yet trying hard to not seem as though they were avoiding his gaze. Most importantly, they avoided at all cost to stare at his famous hump. A certain theatrical portrayal had since exaggerated his deformity much beyond what it really was. But it all paled in comparison to how it became renowned in the gossip of the times. All knew the ultimate penalty for staring at it, but all could not resist the temptation to gaze upon the royal peak. It is so with children and so with adults, that when they are told not to do something, they find it more irresistible upon them to attempt it.
As the hump was more on the right side of the king’s back, and the king was now facing the great hall, all those who faced him on the LEFT had a clear view of it, for better or worse. All those on the RIGHT had greater difficulty seeing the hump, as it was not the mountain that they had envisioned or hoped to witness.
All through the night, men from the right side made visits to their comrades on the left, ostensibly to talk of family relations and gossip as all do. They were of course using such schemes to sneak glances at the king’s unimpressive hump. Oh, how they tried and tried to catch sight of the rumored mountain crest.
As they drank more, their endeavour became more and more apparent. King Richard was quite used to this by this age, having possessed a hump all his life. He knew to restrain his considerable rage at the impudence of the revelers. Of course that is not to say that he forgot and surly not forgive such an insult. King Richard the third was a indeed a marvel of his times remembering slights and assigning future revenge.
All through the night, he drank little but milk and glared at the revelry. He ate very little of the dishes prepared in his honor. He was not impolite to the host, but did not exude much joy, as was the custom of kings, particularly during religious feasts. The comedians, singers and other performers did their best to entertain the somber king to no avail they did however distract much of the celebrants from the worries of the day and along with the copious amount of drink that was served, helped to dull the caution that one must have in the company of royalty.
It was so, that during the later stages of the evening, a knight by the name of Sir Clinton Bandry approached the king. This he did under the heavy influence of drink and merrymaking. As the king was sitting elevated from him, upon the dais, and seated in a great distance, the knight made his way across the great hall, and was stopped by the guards just beside the table. As he was totally intoxicated, he made an inept display of bowing to the king, nearly falling over. He received permission to address the king, after expressing his desire to pledge the king his loyalty and to vouchsafe his service in the upcoming battles. The king assented to this and allowed the man to come closer. the drunkard came close, but it was then that a sudden dizziness had overtaken him. To brace himself, he placed his elbows upon the raised table as stern pillars do to a cathedral, thus he stood, ever so slightly to the right of the king, which gave him an excellent vantage point of the royal eminence. He then declared vociferously of his intention to support the king even until death , and to do his best to avenge the king of all those who betrayed him. He did so, while all the while half-looking at the king and half looking at the hump.
It was then that our story takes a turn for the worse as could be expected.
You see, as the knight was being so boisterous , and yet holding himself up only by the grace of his elbows which were planted firmly unto the table, a fragment of the table’s spine became undone. This flaw was not seen while the horse was upon it the day before, but apparently it became more acute as the horse made it’s final gallop, which unfortunately stressed that point more than others and caused slight cracks in the material to expand and lengthen. These though were totally hidden all through the evening, as the table did not sag even under the enormous weight of all that food and drink. But the elbows of the knight and the weight they had forced upon a very narrow area, and only one side of the table caused the table to now bend downwards unevenly. If you looked at it from the right way, at a certain distance, the problem would have been made apparent. The table was long and the bend was very slight but it was down-turned at the most critical place, so that it made the table become like a longbow, drawn downwards, with the leaning drunken knight as the arrow.
As poor Sir Bandry concluded his speech, the king was already seething from the obvious attempt to see his hump. He had already imagined how, this knight would be served.
“be off with from my presence” he said coldly. The knight , finally realizing the mistake he had made, became gravely frightened. He quickly rose and thus removed his elbows from the table. The effect of which, was that in a fraction of a second, the table itself, now relieved from the added weight bounded upwards dramatically, sending a large decorated bowl of dark pudding flying directly at the kings lap.
The transformation of potential energy to kinetic energy , which was at play here might have been amusing to all who saw it, but for the fact that now as the king’s own garments were ruined! They all looked in horror, those on the left side and those on the right, as the king stood up and examined his pants. If ever there was an example of god’s wrath upon the world, it was in the expression upon Richard, the third of his name, king of the famously cool-headed English on that moment!!
Sir Bandry stood in shock, trembling like a child awaiting punishment.
But the king’s expression surprisingly changed to a shallow smile.
“so! my good man.” he exclaimed warmly “As you said, you intend to serve me in the wars?”
“yes... yes” mumbled Sir Bandry.
“a fine and noble intention. I see you are a strong man. Very commendable! Do you think that you could carry a barrel filled with liquid, say.. oil perhaps.. do you think you can do that? Carry such a heavy weight? ”
“why.. a barrel full of oil?” said Bandry “i could carry such a barrel, easily, and for your honor, your majesty i shall, if you so require”
“that is very good. “ said the king “upon the morning, you will be made to hold a barrel filled with oil which will be fastened to you with ropes, and both YOU and IT will be then placed ever so gently upon the trebouchet, and sent flying, as you have sent the pudding flying!! GUARDS TAKE HIM!!”
And so the guards did. While it was such a swift change of mood , most of those who knew the king were accustomed to such caprice.
But this story is not altogether a tragedy. The good Earl of Willowsby, who was sitting beside the king during the events, and was remotely related to Sir Bandry, then intervened. Risking his own life, you must realize. He begged the king to show forgiveness, and if not that, at least to consider things practically. War had not broken out yet, and Sir Bandry with all his flaws would still better serve as a human missile, during the hostilities than a mere practice shot for the artillerists. Furthermore, the good Earl argued, it was known to be lucky for kings to show mercy on Easter feasts, and it certainly would give the king’s loyal men comfort and courage to know that they are fighting in support of such a merciful and godly man.
To that the king accepted. He made a decree of twofold importance. That all shall know the mercy of Easter feast and the fool Sir Bandry . On that same decree it was made known that the king was most displeased with the habit of placing elbows and feet upon tables, which was so heinously prevalent in houses, taverns, castles and other public places. From that day forward as a law of the land, all who are found to place their elbows upon tables of any size, would be tried for high treason for they undermine the safety and peace of the kingdom. The penalty for such gross misbehavior shall be hanging for the poor, beheading for the noble and burning at the stake for the Jews , Scots and all women of child-bearing age. You may be interested to know that this law has never been repealed or amended. And so until today the law of the land is clear; Placing your elbows upon the table, during dinnertime especially, is a serious violation of the ethics of the time and shall be punished accordingly.
Incidentally, both Sir Lincoln Bandry and his benefactor, the Earl of Willowsby , survived long after the death of king Richard III in the battle of Bosworth. You may remember it, when the king would have famously traded his entire kingdom for a horse. Both men lived for many years past that, promoting the laws of the land, but Richard’s elbow-on table prohibition most of all.
Aren’t we just little emotional atoms?
The meaning of life? Looks like I can't figure it out... Well, who can actually? Let me tell you what I think though. And you can share your insight too.
To have children, to continue your kin, some say is the meaning of life. But what about having children? It's the happiness they bring, you will probably say... But you will die, they will die too. The next generations will also die after that. And finally, all of humanity. And then, in the absolute ultimate account, what if giving birth to these children, has absolutely no meaning for the universe in which we live?
Some believe in God, heaven and hell. I almost envy them, because they have a reason to live, a meaning for that life, and a goal. But I don't believe so I have to think of an answer elsewhere.
People somehow never realized that we are just meaningless ants, which, by a coincidence of biological processes (which we even argue about how much we really understand) on the planet, have found themselves in the middle of a large, infinite space, which in itself will probably one day disappear, if what we think we know about it is true.
We are just a collection of atoms with feelings that think we are important.
But alas, we are not important to the planet we live on. And our ego doesn't seem to understand that - we want to be important and to matter. But it is a fact that our planet will be better off without us. Without us in our current form. Because the only thing we know is ruining it with plastic, by killing animals, by wasting resources, by burning forests, by starting wars, with poverty for some at the expense of wealth for greedy idiots that we choose to ruin our countries, with corruption, malice, alienation... Should I list more? We all know the rest. And we are not doing anything to change it.
We are both the highest form of life and the most stupid one - we allow slavery, violence, racism, homophobia, greed, eating disorders, and more... We don't even know our basic human rights.
Let me ask a twisted question for a bit of reflection - you're currently on a dying planet that revolves around a burning ball in an infinite space: does it really matter if people are fat/thin, gay/straight, black/white?
Do we really need money and status to guide us to everything?
"But the world revolves around money" - No, the world revolves around the star we called the Sun. Some old greedy people have arranged it to their liking, so that now we kill each other for papers with the faces of famous people on them.
Why did they do this? To control us. And see how well it works now.
That's why I liked the recent ending of the series "Money Heist". It showed a great example of how money, gold, and the economy based on them, are just a phycological barrier to us all.
Also, the most absurd thing (for me, personally) on this planet and about us as humans - racism. For example, why would anyone even think that black lives are less valuable than others? What goes in the mind of a racist to think something so stupid? Why have we, humans, never been together in anything? Why are we like this - to make people go and protest that they matter? I can't understand how the most intelligent creatures can think that one of their own may be different somehow like a person because of the color of their skin... Could an almost white sparrow hate a dark brown one? Of course not. They are not stupid.
It's like we always focus on the wrong things in life. We are not important, the only thing we can do is to know and understand what is around us. Admirations for people like Elon Musk who want to take us to Mars. But with all due respect to their work - does it make any sense to lead today's humanity there? Or anywhere else? I want to see Mars too, I want to see the whole universe and beyond to find some meaning (and I blame Doctor Who for my disappointment that this will never happen). But I know that people will ruin it and I wonder why do we even try to reach other planets before we try to fix our own? To ruin them too?
Recently I read about a tribe on the North Sentinel Island. All they want is to be left alone. They don't want us near them, to steal their food and carry our deseases. In their history, there was a moment when some scientists decided to basically kidnap children and elderly from the island. The elderly, of course, couldn't survive with us because they were not immune to our deseases so, to not risk it further, the scientists returned the children (with gifts as sorry). Like closing the stable door after the horse has bolted. Why did they even think that would be a good idea in the first place is beyond me. And no wonder those people are ready to kill everyone who comes near them. We basically lost our right to judge them on that after killing some of their families.
Maybe this is the meaning of human life - to destroy... That's how it turns out to be, that's all we do. But it doesn't sound very nice and cool, does it? It's a pretty grim conclusion that no one wants to believe.
Maybe I'm wrong, of course. Maybe it does have a meaning, maybe there is something beyond death... Isn't that why some people believe in their God - so that their life can have a meaning. Of course, another topic is that religion is sometimes like the idea of racism - it is used mainly for control, sowing hatred, and murder (depending on the religion).
Well, whatever life really is, I'm thinking of living it to the fullest, at least to be happy, I'm already here anyway... We'll see in around a hundred years what the big conclusion will be. Or we won't see...
For now, I just hope more people could think about how bad we've become and how much better we can live if we just break away from most of the rules and stigmas that keep us under control. Let's live like the smartest mammals we're supposed to be. So that at least it could make a little hit more sense to be here - we will help our planet (and possibly our future ones), rather than just destroy it.
That sounds more optimistic, right? But alas, difficult to achieve with our current mindset.
Okay then... I'm going to look for the meaning of life. And you are most welcome to share your opinion on the subject!
The Summer always comes.
Someone once told me that life is like seasons. Sometimes the winter can last for years, it's so cold and dark that even getting out of bed seems pointless, an endless struggle.
But if you just keep going eventually you'll see the sun again because the summer always comes eventually.
He looked at me beyond the obvious, and I shivered amidst
The deepness of his eyes, so piercing and midnight blue,
Their intensity was nothing anyone would ever miss,
And I knew beyond any doubt, a new reckoning anew.
I felt the haunting of my soul and my eyes stung with tears,
I was both afraid and enticed beyond any measure I’d known
As he moved toward me, his purpose much too evidently clear,
I stood where I was, unmoving, lest the root of his impetus be sown.
The line of his mouth hardened, his blue eyes deepened to black,
Mesmerized, unable to move, I watched him draw ever nearer,
I felt the chill of his breath as he sighed, poised on the precipice of attack,
And an enlightenment of his motive became abundantly clearer.
Here was no simple mortal known to mankind amidst the dark,
But a creature, so wonderfully formed betwixt both it and the light.
He leaned closer to me, his beautiful mouth reaching its mark,
And I fell into him, not resisting that which was to be my plight.
I felt the thrill of his touch, the chill of his mouth as he imbibed
From me the blood that ran richly and so magnificently red,
And I knew that from this point evermore our worlds would collide
Into an unknown, unchangeable moment I neither feared nor did dread.
He lifted his coal black gaze, looking deeply into dazed eyes of green,
I fell and leaned into him, pleading and begging for still more despite
So strong was the unforgiveable need for the unknown and what I had seen
As I longed for his feast upon me to prolong with no need of respite.
Wonderful creature of darkness and light, mark me forever more
With your chilled touch and your stealthy lightness of foot,
Make me yours through this night and the truth of your lore,
My mind screamed, my heart beat, as the dark, unbidden thought took root.
A grimace of a smile deliberately formed upon his handsome visage
As he stepped back and gave me a look of pure longing so vivid
My heart skipped a beat and felt the immensity of the privilege,
And then he quietly withdrew, and the need for him steadily lifted.
As he disappeared into the liquid ink of the midnight evening,
I looked about and slowly returned to myself, though amazed and in wonder
With thoughts anew at what I’d just seen despite knowing it was deceiving,
And my heart and mind split, and my complete being burst asunder.
And now in the stillness and dark of night, many years beyond that first time,
I feel the blue of his piercing eyes, the chill of his breath, the touch of his mouth,
And I long for he who invaded midnight while into my heart he did climb,
Creating a vortex of need within, as forever, my love for any other was doused.
The Farmers Daughter
The wind whistles past my ear as I finish up on the farm
The fields of corn are eerily quiet and still
I grasp my pitchfork in my arm
and stop in my tracks when I hear a shrill
My hair stands up on end as I peer into each stable
The horses are calm and sleeping
I run my hands down the barn labels
Whipping my head around to a loud bang I start reaping
The hay has taken a beating, but no one is around
I stumble over the door, heart beat thumping
I look over my should as I slam the door backdown
Frogs in the pond start jumping
I walk to the waters edge pitchfork still in hand
The toes of my boots nick the water
The hairs on the back of my neck stand
I slowly turn around and see a spitting image of my daughter
But that cannot be her, she died years ago
I walk towards her tears in my eyes
She looks beautiful with an airy glow
That is when I start to notice the flies
Her chest has a gapping hole
Flies glide up and down her torso
Her eyes are sunken and coming out of her back is a pole
Her lips do not move, but in my head I can hear audio
The lullaby I used to sing her fills my head
She grabs my hand and I freeze
The song plays faster and faster filling me with dread
I fall down to my knees
I look up at her one last time knowing this is it
I did not protect her like I was supposed to
Death is here and I must submit
My time on earth is much overdo
She grins at me and out of her mouth falls blood, bugs, and teeth
I close my eyes waiting for the final blow
My body turns ridged as she pushes into my chest the sheath
The coldness envelopes me and my heart slows
Her shriek fills the air haunting whoever returns to the farm
Wear the dark
Flowers as black as night,
The moon so powerfull and bright.
A scream as painfull as death,
Not even a kid crying in it's bed.
The dark overwelmes everything,
Is it only me who isn't remembering?
The flowers in your hair,
The darkness everywhere.
Your dog that has a loud bark,
You're beautiful wearing the dark!
She who walked between the rows
Naked lie the corn in the field,
Shucked, barren, picked by crows.
A yield great from the harvest
Scattered and forgotten between the rows.
Still, corn cannot judge paths of blood
or fathom wrath unbound.
It dips and turns and disintegrates
and dusts shock toward the ground.
There, strewn clothes and eyes unweep--
Seed droppings bear grain sowed.
Sharp breezes scour the life reaped
that withers between the rows.
Sun-touched hands stretch wretched,
rigid, and youth bound.
Dried husks grasped by a brown thrush
are eviscerated between the rows.
Misty breath conceals the one
to raise white's quivering sheet.
Until remains the mornings and dusks
and earth beneath still feet.