§ Ad argumentandum tantum §

Story Of Lilith - Succubus

2010-11-09T01:05:00.000Z

I'm not going to apologize for it, cause the truth is I'd do it again.

2010-08-25T00:12:00.002+01:00

" Patterns are inherent in human nature and all natural forms. Our repetitve patterns of thoughts, habits, attitudes and behaviours are quite apparent to others, yet we generally do not see our games and how they affect the results we really want. "

Hindsight, or our ability to see our past clearly, is a learning function that, when damaged ... renders us unable to look at the past to guide ourselves through the present and into the future. Without this ability, we cannot learn from our mistakes. We cannot clean up the wreckage of our actions. We are locked into a cycle of repeating the same thing over and over again, expecting different results....

The truth is....we are all bleeding masoquists...

Did you say it?

2010-08-17T18:38:00.001+01:00

Did you say it? 'I love you. I don't ever want to live without you. You changed my life.' Did you say it? Make a plan. Set a goal. Work toward it, but every now and then, look around; Drink it in 'cause this is it. It might all be gone tomorrow."

Its not going to stop

2010-08-17T13:52:00.003+01:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_goEernujW8&feature=related

Fuck off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2010-08-15T21:28:00.000+01:00

I'm angry, and tired, and sad, and I just don't want to deal with it right now, so fuck off.

I don't want to look at you, or talk to you, or be with you, or know you, and I certainly don't want to need you to be who you were when it mattered. I don't want to run into you on the street, and have an awkward moment of nothing to say. I don't want you to worry about me, because there isn't anything you can say or do that we haven't already tried. I don't want YOU. I don't want to be irritated, because it is as much my fault as it is yours (or at least that is what I keep telling myself so I will stop blaming you). I don't want to care, but I do, and I don't want to die knowing that I cared too much, or not enough, or not the ways you needed me to, because it doesn't matter any more. I dont' want it to matter in five years, or five minutes, or five seconds, that you have become what I asked you never to be.
A nightmare.
I don't want to go places with people that we both know, knowing that you are going to be a topic at some point, and I don't want everyone to tread lightly in my presence (that lacks the honesty that is the only thing I will ever ask for).I hate the fact that you were such a big thing, and that you didn't know it, or that you did, and I got blown off, because frankly it hurts.(I got the bum end of the deal). I hate the fact that there was such a gross misinterpretation of the situation at some point, and that You were probably responsible, and that I was naive enough to think otherwise.

Having said all that, I don't hate you. I just don't respect you as much as I used to. I used to think you were the greatest person on two legs, and admire your intellegence, and wonder at the things you have accomplished in your few years of life. I used to lie awake at night thinking about you, and wishing you the best in life. . . (I still pray for you. I still hope that you will finish fighting your own nightmares, and find what it is you are looking for.) I still think you are in the wrong. I am bitter, and I just don't want to deal with it, or you right now.

I don't have to send this to you, or post it, or tell you how I feel, because someday you will read this. . . and you won't ever know who it was from, or what it was about, and you won't know that it is to you, and for you.The last thing You'll be getting from me. You won't know, but you'll recognize enough of what I have written to know that no matter who it is from, or for, it is talking straight to your heart. There is enough of the truth here.

I imagine that when/if you do read this, you will find it incredibly enlightening, and you will probably have some halfbaked trip into guilt, so right now I am going to tell you that this isn't about you any more. You might want to call me, and ask if I ever wrote something like this, or you might wimp out at even that, and email me. You might want that. . . but I doubt you will do anything. You would rather have that guilt remain unconfirmed so you don't have to deal with it either.

I Hate You

2010-08-15T21:19:00.000+01:00

You wanted to know the worst about me, the things I told no one and hid below the surface. How do I explain it? How do I explain who I am when I am not even sure of it myself? How do I put into words the worst parts of me that I have run from for so long? I will tell you my secrets, I will tell you everything. Maybe it will help me. Maybe you will hate me for it or maybe you will understand. I don't know, but I am sick of running. So here it is, I will give you what you want.

I hate you. That is not true, but sometimes I think it is. I will not answer the phone when you call, even though I want to talk to you. I will not call you, even though it is all I want to do. I will not reach out to you, even though every part of me wants to. I will be mad at you, I will want to hurt you, I will drive you away because I am afraid to let you closer. I need your constant attention, your reassurances, but I will greet them with cold indifference. I will be jealous of the attention you give others, and I will get mad at you for ignoring me. I will feel close to you and care for you one day, only to be mad and want you out of my life the next.

I am an emotional amnesiac, maybe I always have been. I take each event, each day, each conversation as a seperate event, always looking for signs that you might hurt me. When I feel neglected, I will get mad and forget that the day before you told me how much you cared. I am an inconsistent mess. There is a part of me who is happy and confident and another part that is insecure and needy. These days, I never know which one it will be. Every time I think I am in control, that I know you care and I feel comfortable with our relationship, the fear and doubt will come back. Maybe with time it will go away completely, but doubt it. All it will take is another close relationship, another new friend, another day and it will be back.

You ask what you can do and I do not know what to say. The needy part of me wants your constant attention, it needs your words and thoughts, your presence. But I know that is not the answer, I must accept the limitations on our relationship. The scared part of me wants you out of my life because it would be easier. The hateful part of me wants to hurt you because it thinks you have hurt me. All I can ask you to do is to understand, to not give up. I will ignore you at times, I may be rude to you, I may try to hurt you. I may hide from you and wait for you to reach out to me, so I know you will care. It is not fair to do these things, but I will. I cannot ask you to put up with this, it is not fair and no matter how I act, I care too much to put you through this. But you asked, and this is all I have to tell you.

I do not like this. I do not like that I am needy and clinging. I do not like that I hurt people. I do not like that I am rude and sarcastic to those around me. I do not like this part of myself. For years, I have ignored this and pretended it was me, but I have realized that is wrong. This is not me, it is a false identity created to protect me from the world. This was not an easy realization, and perhaps I haven't fully accepted it yet. But I have found my path, I have realized I can change and I can accept this side of me and keep it from becoming who I am. It will not be easy and it will not be quick, but I have faith that I can do it. Perhaps one day I will see me as the person you see behind my defenses, and perhaps one day I will let others see that person as well.

If you're against homophobia, as I am, read this!!

2009-12-17T18:13:00.000Z

I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.
I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.
I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.
I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.
I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.
I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.
I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.
We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.
I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.
I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.
I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.
I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.
I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.
I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I did not have to always deal with society hating me.
I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.
I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.
I am the person who is afraid of telling his loving Christian parents he loves another male.
Re-post this if you believe homophobia is wrong. Please do your part to end it

Thoughts....

2009-12-14T22:49:00.002Z

"At the end of the day, there are some things you just can't help but talk about. Some things we just don't want to hear, and some things we say because we can't be silent any longer. Some things are more than what you say, they're what you do. Some things you say cause there's no other choice. Some things you keep to yourself. And not too often, but every now and then, some things simply speak for themselves. "

"For a kiss to be really good, you want it to mean something. You want it to be with someone you can't get out of your head, so that when your lips finally touch you feel it everywhere. A kiss so hot and so deep you never want to come up for air. You can't cheat your first kiss. Trust me, you don't want to. Cause when you find that right person for a first kiss, it's everything."

"Communication. It's the first thing we really learn in life. Funny thing is, once we grow up, learn our words and really start talking the harder it becomes to know what to say. Or how to ask for what we really need. "

Human Touch....

2009-11-30T19:02:00.005Z

Take people for granted....Do you?

2009-10-19T18:42:00.005+01:00

When someone that you like is not close to you, you work so hard to get close to them. You get close to them and things are going fine. After some time they disappear from your life. Not literally. You just start taking them for granted. Don’t believe this? Here are some questions to ask yourself:

When was the last time you told ten of your closest friends that they mean a lot to you?

* When was the last time you truly appreciated your spouse?

* When was the last time you told your children that they are the best things to happen to you?

* When was the last time you contacted your favorite teacher from school/college?

* When was the last time you talked to your old boss (the one you shaped your career)?

* When was the last time you told someone at work that they made your day?

Unfortunately many of us make the same mistake – take people that are close to us for granted. They are already close why give them more attention? We go after things that we don’t have....

One final question:

How would you feel when someone close to you takes you for granted?

Boys........

2009-07-29T00:42:00.002+01:00

Love and Dreams

2009-07-29T00:28:00.002+01:00

Unexpectedly I become conscious… all I ever wanted you don’t share with me.
Suddenly…. I realize all my dreams are on hold because I love thee.
Suddenly I don’t know which way to go, for If love is strong, how stronger are dreams?
Chase a dream or chase love? Have you ever struggled between?
Love……that vanishes his blaze so at a snail's pace…. When you realize it, you went from princess to somebody. You turn from the whole thing to a little.
So how can you ever decide?
If you have a lover for so long, and enthusiasm starts to grow fainter … how do you ever get it back?

AC/DC

2009-06-03T17:30:00.003+01:00

E pronto, é hoje.

Quem sabe o que me reservará este estrondoso concerto do melhor rock alguma vez inventado?

Dos dinossauros do Rock!

A expectativa aumenta á medida que me apercebo que está quase na hora e mentalizar-me que sim. Que EU estarei lá. Lá. Com eles. Com os Deuses. Com eles. Com os grandiosos.... AC/DC.

Teus olhos entristecem...

2009-05-06T22:48:00.002+01:00

Teus Olhos Entristecem

Teus olhos entristecem

Nem ouves o que digo.

Dormem, sonham esquecem...

Não me ouves, e prossigo.

Digo o que já, de triste, Te disse tanta vez...

Creio que nunca o ouviste

De tão tua que és.

Olhas-me de repente

De um distante impreciso

Com um olhar ausente. Começas um sorriso.

Continuo a falar. Continuas ouvindo

O que estás a pensar, Já quase não sorrindo.

Até que neste ocioso

Sumir da tarde fútil,

Se esfolha silencioso

O teu sorriso inútil.

Fernando Pessoa, in "Cancioneiro"

Acções

2009-04-21T19:34:00.002+01:00

Palavras.
Não as quero.
Não servem de nada, nem para nada.
Quero simplicidade. Quero sol num dia desconsolado. Quero estrelas no crepúsculo da escuridão. Quero sopro deleitoso que me acaricia a face ou me suspira baixinho. Quero amor. Quero paixão verídica. Quero sorrir. Quero sentir.

Letárgia ou que?

2009-03-16T22:33:00.003Z

Intensidade. Sentimentos intensos. Emoções intensas.
Veemência.
Temperamento….complexo. Impulsividade, irritabilidade, explosividade e atitudes dominadoras, mas também curiosidade, extravagância…é assim que Tu és.
Tu menina, de aparências enganadoras…Eu. Nós.
Dizes-me “Tás com a lua”… não. Eu vivo com a lua. Todos os dias circunscritos por ela… elas. Como explicar isto a alguém … se a nossa sociedade se baseia, considera e rotúla tudo pelo que exprimes no teu exterior… no teu papel aderente.
Sou muito mais do que aquilo que imaginas…aliás… não seremos todos?
Parte de mim desmembra-se numa mistura de cigarros e café numa agressiva forma que acaba empaticamente apática… numa cadeia descontinuada de pensamentos acelerados que se postergam á celeridade da luz.
Agora estranho isto. Os remédios controlam-me os espíritos.
Nada sinto. Ecos. Vazio. Que afecção será esta? Será que estou feliz? Será que isto é o que os outros sentem no seu dia-a-dia vulgar?
Ou será que estou somente letárgica…. E administrada…
De nada serve o que escrevo ou que sinto. Não compreenderás nada do que falo.
Os pensamentos correm de forma incontrolável. As ideias correm rapidamente a ponto de não concluir o que começou, para quem olha de fora a grande confusão de ideias na verdade constitui-se na interrupção de temas antes de terem sido completados para iniciar outro que por sua vez também não é terminado e assim sucessivamente numa fuga de ideias.
E pronto. Não percebeste nada.

2009-03-03T22:52:00.003Z

Getting old ain't for sissies....

Ora aí está... mais um valor acrescentado já aos 24 que cá permanecem.... não é bonito de se ver... para uns, tão nova, para outros tão mais velha... e no meio de tudo isto...pergunto-me "então e eu?"
Serei eu nova, ou velha.... será o meu involcro tão importante assim? " Olhe é assim, o involcro de mim vai fazer mais um ano."

Certo. e o recheio?

AC/DC vêm a Portugal em 2009

2009-02-20T22:12:00.004Z

A última vez que os AC/DC estiveram em Portugal foi em 1996, para um concerto no Estádio do Restelo...

Sabem o que mais tenho para vos dizer?

EU TOU LÁ. E VESTIDA DE COLEGIAL COMO TRIBUTO A ESTES GRANDES DEUSES DO ROCK N ROLL!!!!!!

Bom Ano...

2009-01-09T18:40:00.003Z

E cá estamos num renovado ano... que será a única coisa nova efectivamente... magicar que todos os anos "novos" as coisas serão diferentes, irão comutar... as pessoas que amamos nos irão adorar de volta, ou liminarmente mais um pouco... Que as pessoas que nos tocam nos irão tocar novamente, que renovadas utopias irão desabrochar destes insignificantes seres... que se existe um planeta que é feito de todos os nosso sonhos, transformados assim em substância... que as pessoas que não gostamos iremos absolver... é uma frivolidade assim pensar... mas que máquinas seríamos nós, sem os pensamentos? Algo irá mudar, mentalizamo-nos... resoluções de segundos esmorecidas na atmosfera em pouco tempo, dissipadas para esse planeta feito dos nossos sonhos e pensamentos... e porém, só tenho a pronunciar... não é fazer resoluções que vos irá a todos arrebatar com uma nova vida... é agir sobre isso mesmo... porque a trivialidade da vida nos furta a consciência... porque um dia nos iremos todos interrogar... para onde é que o tempo todo foi....?

Quotes for Life

2008-12-02T20:06:00.000Z

“People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that's bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they're afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It's all in how you carry it. That's what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you're letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.” The Great Jim Morrison

2008-12-02T19:47:00.000Z

Why...

2008-11-17T20:06:00.001Z

Why? Why do I feel so gone? I am now so distant I just don't belong. Now I'm ripped away from existence. I've become so transparent that I lost all substance. Sitting nowhere, breathing fake air. We don't feel anymore, so we can't care. Its about time I clear my throat. Let the hellish screams out till I begin to float. I'd run a million miles from here, just to get out of this cage and escape from fear. You know you're screwed when you crave pain, you wanna bleed all throughout your brain. The blood in my veins is proof of life. I'm not sure if its there, so I reveal it with a knife. Not me any more, don't know myself. Prisoner in my own skin, I no longer comprehend health. It's all in the family they used to say. It's all in the family so it must be ok. They hurt and rape her, they slash and tear her, they kill and torture, they love the terror. We are our own army so lets retaliate. Fight, destroy, show them real hate. Look at the fire in her eyes. That roaring beast never hides. She lost all she ever had. Blood seeps through her skin cause it hurts so bad. Her shattered heart pounds against her breast, scattered pieces cutting holes in her chest. Slowly she fades as she quickly she drowns. Covered in guilt, sequestered from sounds. Tilting on the edge, about to fall off. Her mind is so lacerated it has become leathery and soft...

Lilith in wonderland

2008-11-17T19:52:00.000Z

'But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.'Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat. 'We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.''How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice.'You must be," said the Cat. 'or you wouldn't have come here.'"

Save Me....Yes, You....

2008-11-03T22:10:00.005Z

You look like a perfect fit.....For a girl in need.... of a tourniquet.

But can you.... save me? Come on and.........save me.

If you could.......... save me?

From the ranks... of the freaks,

Who suspect they could never love anyone.

'Cause I can tell,

You know what it's like.....

The long farewell.... of the hunger strike.

But can you... save me? Come on and.............. save me

If you could.... save me....

From the ranks of the freaks

Who suspect they could never love anyone

You struck me dumb like radium

Like Peter Pan or Superman...

You will come....? to save me....

C'mon and save me..............IF you could... save me.

From the ranks of the freaks
Who suspect they could never love anyone....

'Cept the freaksWho suspect they could never love anyone

But the freaks Who suspect they could never love anyone....

Saint Laurent

2008-11-03T21:19:00.005Z

Passei muito tempo a cogitar se seria apropriado do meu indivíduo, consagrar tal homenagem…. Passaram-se meses e finalmente após intenso deliberar, que este Indivíduo merecia a devoção até do mais secundário ser, por isso aqui se segue a sua dedicatória, a um Homem que foi um memorável, um génio do alto luxo.

O estilista Yves Saint Laurent, 71 anos, um dos mais prestigiados do século 20, morreu em Paris, segundo a Fundação Pierre Bergé-Saint Laurent.
Confome o sócio Pierre Berge comentou, Saint Laurent morreu em casa.... Apesar de não dar detalhes relativamente á sua morte, revelou que o estilista estava doente há um longo período de tempo.
Yves Saint Laurent é considerado um dos maiores estilistas do século 20...O estilista foi por décadas uma Instituição no mundo da alta costura devido ao seu estilo inovador. Foi ele que proporcionou uma nova liberdade às mulheres através de suas criações, especialmente o terninho e o famoso “Le Smoking”, apresentado pela primeira vez em 1966.
Era considerado o último remanescente de uma geração que inclui Christian Dior e Coco Chanel, que fez de Paris a capital mundial da moda...

«Participei na transformação da minha época com roupas, muito menos importante que a música, arquitectura ou a pintura, mas seja lá como for, eu fiz!» disse Yves Saint Laurent que marca a história da moda como o «homem que deu o poder às mulheres» quando apresenta as «revolucionárias» colecções onde funde o masculino com o feminino. ( Um brinde a ti! ) Em 2002 Yves Saint Laurent decide abandonar o mundo da moda....

A percepção do detalhe, do caimento, da costura e do bom gosto faz parte de um passado que morreu com YSL.

¿Mi Corazón Ha ido A dormir?

2008-06-19T12:33:00.009+01:00

¿Mi corazón ha ido a dormir? ¿Las colmenas de mi trabajo parado los sueños, el waterwheel de la mente han funcionado seco, cucharadas que daban vuelta vacías, solamente sombra adentro? No, mi corazón no está dormido. Es despierto, de par en par despierto. No dormidos, no soñar-sus ojos se abren que miran de par en par las señales distantes, escuchando en el borde del silencio extenso.

Antonio Machado

I Want to know...

2008-05-28T21:31:00.010+01:00

I'm getting more pissed with every passing heartbeat. Yet, one can only wonder, isn't every pasing heartbeat another step towards death? Are we not in this world, only so we can die? Is the only reason of living, dying? What purpose do we have, to get up every morning, to a scarred body, work, and do it all over again? Are nothing but toys to a supposed god, moving around and doing everything he "commands"? Does this not mean that suicide is the easiest way out? People say that you shouldn't kill yourself because it's easy, well, isn't anyone who's ever cheated on anything taking the easy way out? So they really can't be saying nothing and still not be involved with hypocrisy. Do we live in a world of liars and hypocrites? Or do they just keep us alive for their own well-being, if they really loved you, they'd let you go to a place where you'd be in peace. This is were hatred comes from, too many people thinking about themselves and not letting others go, making them live a life they don't want to live anymore. Or maybe, the suicidal people are the selfish ones, only thinking about themselves and trying to escape to a better place. That, my friend, is what I want to know...

- Ida Mehrnoush

Poem without words

2008-05-16T20:54:00.004+01:00

Words… mere sound that can inflame such pain, such delight….
Words come out if you yearn for, if you don’t, if you imply it, if you reflect it…
What implications have they actually, but the connotation of resonance…?
Words can slash you deeper than knifes, injure you more than blazing arsenal, trespass your heart like a impale, or shatter your soul into pieces for a thousand lifetimes… and if you really reflect on it… verbal skill… are so precise… are so distinctive… and mere calligraphy put jointly…

Origens...

2008-05-15T22:08:00.008+01:00

Este blog foi servente da funcionalidade de objecto de purgação.
Um diário de bordo, um depositário, uma súplica sem feedback.
Palavras que abandonadas para jamais serem ouvidas.
Nada aqui vos poderá realizar, se aqui demandas réplicas. Nada aqui vos irá inteirar se aqui alicerçam as falsas mínguas, numa fantasiosa credulidade que o porvir será preferível. Unicamente e nada mais que palavras, palavras desagregadas numa incomensurabilidade de brisa. Por isso compete-me imediatamente, dar-te as boas vindas, a esta lacuna onde encalhaste, em mais uma busca…

Doação inter vivos: aquela que se opera entre pessoas vivas

2008-05-15T21:30:00.010+01:00

Definição....

Definição. Demando em mim enunciação…. Será que algum dia a terei? A contenda resume-se a um ser tripartido… desmembrado. Dilacerado, em altercação consigo mesmo. O que será que revela de facto? A sua fusão, apesar do antagonismo? Um maquinismo, a veemência, ou uma imaculada cópia que se procura tanto obter? Onde está o limite…a extremidade…Um ser que ocupa em mim, que se apossa de tantos talhes, desagregadas… o bem, o mal, o que será de facto? Algo que não inteligível ao raciocínio humano sem escrúpulo… a resposta a estas questões residirá nas entranhas do meu ser…No que se decifra como alma? No declínio ou na alba? Psicologia ou racionalidade… órgão…. Tudo o que sinto poderia ser explicado, de uma feição ou outra… ficcional, ou real…. Deambulação de um membro letárgico… é como me sinto… um membro em espectro.