Creating Shadows

Everything went wrong when I met you. Met my hearts return. You let me fly at loves throat and put decisions in my hands, where only the burning stars paid silent witness in our passing passions. Then you left me to fall. Spiraling down until I felt the firm ground beneath me, some weird security that put me back on my feet.

How you broke my little heart. You squashed it, tore its fine ligaments, shattering and stamping it into the dirt and turned it back to me. The worst of all tortures. You left my heart wholly whole in my hands. You did not steal a piece, not even for keep sake.
My heart would of beaten stronger if you had taken half. But you gave it back to me whole. If only to show you cared, I would have been happier to receive a slice of it. To know somehow that you still wished to care about some bit of me.

But no! You instead believed I cared for my whole heart, that turning away what I had given you would hurt less and keep away my stainless grief. So silently wrong was your proposal and so I let it slip between my fingers, let my heart ache be cured tears and sleepless nights in mourning for my returned heart. Used goods as it should aptly be labeled.

And then my shattered silence fell and turned. My strangled throat wrought raw and red, warmed to delight in sorrow. And to tare flesh enraged, the wild fire rolling in my eyes. This yearning for revenge became my powerful weapon.

Cunningly it sits and broods on my breast, filling the place of my dejected heart. Desolate irrational soul, that takes delight in mischief of a dangerous kind. My mind could be touched. (Raving in sorrow or bent on revenge) So slight the touch I could indeed deem it illusion or angelic.

And for my own priceless sake I should believe my vices are my strengths, just so I don’t cry myself to sleep again, or keep myself awake with my own reckless sobs. So sad. The contours of my face, white washed without my heart. My pallor cold and damp, yet I see and know and believe. And still I live.

The heart remembering at times the bruises you left, the soft pain so unfairly felt when my heart beats faster. If memory played in harmony with my heart it only pushed more merrily at my hurts. But my Whole heart goes on. Each drum beat sounded, announcing my arrival. My parting from this dark clay you clad me in.

A pure essance
Naturally drawn
From Heaven's blooms,
Like petals
They softly fall
Unlike our dreams
Which shatter,
Our own shards
Of broken ice.
The quiet crystal
Covered by cold snow
Numbing wounds
Which, when opened
Show bright red
Sings of life,
But the snow just
Blankets it again.
Prentending to make you forget
To indulge in the
Pure essance
Tasteless, smelless, cold
Devoid of life
Trying to cure you of breath
Slowly. slowly numbing your senses
There is a peace in this soundless world
A sense of belonging
To nothing
Such a desparring loneliness
Don't touch the snow
The sacret white petals
From Heaven
Were only made for the angels,
Pure and untouched
Clean without the
Untrden slush
Of our pasts
The snow
Only falls for
The precious angels

I was listening to Gareth Cliff on 5fm this morning and he was commenting in the name change that could/is taken place with the springboks and other place names.
He was saying that its pointless if you have a good arguement, but then get emotional. Once you get emotional poeple stop listening, because then you baically become irrational. Well at least thats what people percieve.
Honestly this whole name changing bussiness is something silly, like Gareth said it is more of a make over, a symbol of what South Africa is becoming or should be. That is that South Africa is turning from its aparthied ways and one can see this, becuase we are changing the names of our country! Yay us!
But the truth is that, as much as we want to believe South Africa is a multi-racial country with no predujices, South Africa is still only changing. Slowly.
Perhaps these name changes need to take place when the new generation is in leadership, becuase the leadership of today is still infuenced by their past.
It doesn't matter how good your arguement is or your counter arguement, because in the end they all seem to cancel each other out and in the end the descition is out of your hands.

Recently there was an incident in res where there was confrintation between the subbie and the other students staying in res.
The warden got invovled, only becuase the subbie went to her. And it wasn't that the warden was needed to sort the problem out, it was just because the subbie wanted to get back at the other students, even though they did try to sort it out with the subbie,she didn't want to hear any of it.
So she ran to the warden and told her an over exagerated story.
Now one would think that, becuase she is the warden she would prehaps show some unbias and rational sense to get both sides of the story, before assuming that, like she did, the other students are in the wrong.
But thats not how it works apparently. The warden refused to acknowledge anything the other students had to say and completely favoured the subbie.
As a person in power, the warden is some one the students need to look up to and what exactly type of role is she setting up for other students to follow? She is basically telling others that she is not there to help the individual with rational and fair judgement, but that the individual is likely to come second best to the wardens favourites.

So I wake up this morning, after over sleeping as usal, and find myself faced with a History and English essay due for friday along with a paragraph on Thursday and just some how I do not care.
I have not finished any of the readings for my History essay and I realy do have writers block or something of the like for my english assingments.
But I just do not care that I'm so far behind and I'm kind of just taking everything as it comes, day-by-day.
If this had happened in the start of the year, which it did, I would of be bawling my little eyes out due to stress, but like I said "I just do not care!". A tonne of bricks could fall on me now and I would not care, however if it messed up my face I probably would, because thats what people have to look at.
Can you imagine at your funeral, people cannot even look at your face, because its so messed up.
That is besides the point.
I spoke to my mother and a friend about this issue of not caring and apparently it is perfectly normal. I just took awhile to reach that stage.
Well lets just hope that I come out alive at the end of this week and that a literal tonne of bricks doen't fall on my face.

This blog thing is not as easy as it looks, so just for the record, this is more like a test blog. I really am computer inept on the best of days....I actually have a theory for this.



All computers where designed to hate me! I am note being paranoid. They have this most annoing habit of doing the opposite of what I want or not doing it at all and then when some one else does that exact same thing the computer does exactly what it is ment to do...



Now you tell me that is not a conspiracy against me? Every computer inthe whole world has a program that works to irritate me and drive me insane and worst of all make me look stupid when it comes computers, although I must say that the things like htmls, ect. are a little out of my legue when it comes to genuis.



Maybe I should stop pointing fingers and blaming the cmputer softwear? It is really very unprofessional of me. I should just embrace the fact that I have not got the foggest idea what it is that I am doing when it comes to computers and any other tecknowledgies. You know your inept when your mother knows just that bit more than what you do.