What Are We Afraif Of?

(This was written by my sister Karen about being raised in the "Children Of God" and I thought it was amazing)

I was talking to my beautiful, intelligent sister this evening and discussing a recent post made by my brother-in-law, Chris. We discussed how true his post was and how it is that we, as former members and children of members of the Family International, are typically scared or afraid of posting thoughts such as these or possibly even voicing them. We, together, came to with the conclusion that the abuse suffered by each and every child (generally, at least), is still in bondage to some degree by the abuse we suffered during our upbringing. I use the term we, but really, I am speaking for myself.

Needless to say, it begs the question, what are we afraid of? Are we afraid of 50-something-year-old women and men who, without an education, lived their lives in by a standard that was called living by faith, or otherwise known as living on the backs of others? Are we afraid of rocking the boat, so as to say, we want to maintain the pittance of a relationship we have established with our parents and family members that remain in this organization? Are we afraid we would be viewed as whiny or bitter by not progressing in a manner sufficient to those that disbelieve our stories, or those that simply don’t care?

I am a product of a group of individuals who cared nothing for religion, nothing for god, and least of all, nothing for their children. A group of individuals who not only allowed, but condoned, some of the most obscene abuse of young children; sexually, physically and mentally. I am a product of individuals who wanted nothing more in life than to belong to a family; a spin off of some form of the hippie lifestyle, where there was no responsibility other than to preach the world of their god.

What do I mean specifically, you ask? Well, keep in mind there is only so much I can write in the little space provided to me by Facebook. However, we were raised to believe the world owed those of us who gave all and “forsook all” for the purpose of preaching the gospel. I can’t exactly tell you what gospel, only that it made sense to the individuals preaching it at the time.

The things were given up for the “higher calling” in life usually consisted of clothes, shoes, food, safety and simple necessities; only to have others provide it to us out of the goodness of their hearts. In addition, we gave up our childhood to provide for our parents and other random adults. If that still was not enough, we gave up our sexuality. Children were used as sex toys for the perverse. Children were used as money-making machines. Children were used as sympathy tools to enable adults comforts in life. In short, children were abused to an extent so unbelievable, that I have dedicated my life to prosecuting such offenses.

Some may argue with me, but only those who categorically deny any wrong-doing on the part of the Family International; others are entirely too weak to face these atrocities head on and do something to change it. Others may feel it is simply not worth the risk. Whatever the excuse may be, one has to question, what exactly are we afraid of? The only response given by members who are active in this group are: “Get over yourself,” and, “You’re just bitter,” or, “We have always loved you, why don’t you accept our love?” These responses, of course, are insufficient when facing a reality that will follow me for the rest of my life. I will never trust men the way that others do; I will never trust people who engross themselves in religion; I will simply never justify any actions of my parents, their colleagues, and any other person who backs the same lifestyle; nor will I trust any religion, period. They should be tried by a jury of their peers, and convicted of the atrocious crimes they have committed, then sentenced to the maximum extent of the law.



By Karen Summers.

Ugh, That feeling

Do you ever have a sick feeling in your stomach? And I don't mean from alcohol, drugs or bad sex. The feeling of being fascinated with a total liar.

Recently, my heart skipped a beat with him, my eyes were brighter and everything was happy and exciting. How fascinating was he. But, whenever I asked him if he wanted to go out, then he rejected the idea altogether. Last night, he said yes to going out. So, I as stupid as ever, decided to put make up on, dress up nice and wish for a good night. But, it did not come, now did it? He calls to tell me that he isn't showing up and that he is "so confused" about some situation in which I have no idea.

I sit on my chair for awhile, thinking to myself 'why lead me on, if you never wish to see me?' Yet, how can he help it? He's just a douche bag.


Farewell.

Louisiana The Whore

The sights and smells are the same as before. I am feeling toasty with my snugly toes and happy drinks. I have been doing a lot of GED these days, because I plan on going to LSUS (a University close by).

But, right now I am concentrating on this television show and the taste of cigars just sitting in my mouth. I was trying to be brave, trying to be manly and smoke a cigar, but it was disgusting and strong and pasty. I want to murder this taste in my mouth before it's too late.

I recently volunteered at the local "Humane Society" for every Monday and Friday. It is very sad because I want to adopt all the animals, but I can't. So, I will give the animals the best life they can while I volunteer.





auf Wiedersehen.

Botanical Gardens

Hans Von Strudel

All I know is that I love my car. He is beautiful and green and pooped on from birds at this moment. But you know what? I don't even care! All I know is that he is mine and we have been driving together as lovers..

Check him out, but not too much because he's shy.

Aha! You found me

Thank you so much drunk night with family.

Thank you so much old arguments that turn into laughter in the end.

We have officially decided to move to Alabama,(the land of the creepy people).
But, before we could enjoy the tenderness of pedophiles and sex offenders, we had to make a little stop in Shreveport, Louisiana. The other land of pedophiles and sex offenders. We arrived here around 8'clock on Wednesday evening with smiles, empty stomachs, and thirsty throats.

We needed alcohol and QUICK! Before all the hugs and love of Jesus, we had to get our "drink on". It was something that could not be helped. Something that was so sneaky and delicious that my throat would tickle with JOY!
In the end, the only sentence that people were admitting was "I'm not drunk, I am just over served".

I honestly do not know how we do every time we visit here, but somehow we are always willing to become so painfully "over served" that drunk is a lite word.


But, one question though. Why is it that each morning, after a good night of drinking, do my hands smell like corn-dogs?

Liamas with Hats

When I first saw this clip, my first reaction was that it sounded just like a conversation between my brother and I....

"I was hungry for hands, give me a break..."

The Home Of Wonders

In my small but bitter life, I have experienced many things. Sometimes I sit on my bed and wonder, “how did this happen?” Then I smile knowing that it was their fault. In case you have not already noticed, this generation has a little problem. No, I take it back. The problem is colossal. I have been to many places in my life, but not quite like this one. The second you walk on to the property, you cannot help but take a whiff of air and what do you smell? Yes, I smell it too. It reeks of sex, pregnant woman, and garbage. Although that stuff smells the same, I wanted to make them feel special by saying it did not. However, in my heart I felt differently AND that my friends, is the point of this. The fact I am about to lay on your chest. So, believe it and receive it.

Well, this all started in my early Teen years. I was indeed a chunky little number and had my share of rejection. Nevertheless, I lived to tell the tale. I lived in a big home when I was 12. And in that home, I had to replace the sweet smell of roses with rotting eggs and pregnant women. However, most people would find that very wonderful. I indeed did not, because in that “wonderful place” I was qualified in valuable lessons. Such as: How not to be caught by your shepherds, try not to be hit on by 30 year old men, smile big and pretend to love everyone. Oh, those were the days, my friends. Those were the days. In places like that, you must find a crowd, somewhere to be safe.

The whores were people who made your small life much worse. Not just by taking all the decent men, no not even. However, by making the whole home smell like their rotten vagina's. (Note: I am not personally referring to anyone in this, but if you think I am referring to you, then I probably am).

The idiots were people who truly believed they were smart. They would walk around the house, and talk to people about computers, (considering only the “smart” people knew about computers). I think they tried talking in Japanese once. That brought some laughter back into my humble life. Poor, ignorant men, they will never understand anything.

The bitter were good people. I appreciated them the most. At least they did not whore around making the home smell like fish, considering we had other people to do that for us. The bitter people were the smartest. They would make jokes that were not very funny then, but are very clever now. They should have run the home, I am sure it would have turned out better that way.

The stressed were maniacs. You would always look behind you to see if they were coming with a knife to kill you. You would toss in your bed at night hoping you would live to see tomorrow.
This did not always happen. Poor people, they never saw it coming. The crazy thing about the stressed is that you believe in the beginning that they are almost sweet. Therefore, you get all excited & your panties got in a twist, because you actually believe you will survive the dark ways of the stressed. No my friends, beware of them! They are your enemies and the stressed were my shepherds and I of course hid from them. I was not going to be another casualty. Right when you thought, you were safe. BANG! You are DEAD! He lurks behind your door and kills you instantly. It was merely impossible to have devotions with stressed people. You thought that any second they would have a heart attack. On the other hand, maybe they were a little to into word time. Who really knows the truth? I did not intend to find out.


Even after years of living silently in my room, I had the courage to look for that place.
Hell’s bells I called it. I assured myself it was a good name. However, the moment someone shoved me out of the car on to that property, I knew something was not right. I ducked down on the floor, wishing that someone would hear my desperate cries for help. However, then something struck me. Something very wrong and painful was coming my way. Someone was walking towards me. I turned in fear and started running the opposite direction, but it was too late, someone saw me. As this creature headed closer to me, a tear rolled down my cheek. I did not want to die this way. The creature grabbed a tight hold on me and smiled with its leprosy face and monstrous teeth. After a moment of strong tight hugging, the monster spoke. “I bet you missed Kira huh”. Then an even bigger smile, thrown my way, as the tightening of its grasp loosened. I signed with great peace in my heart. I am alive! I walked quickly through the property, and then I smelt something rather familiar. That same rotten vagina/pregnant women smell was here. I was back to my Teen years again. My full entire life flashed before my eyes in 5.2 seconds. My heart was racing faster and faster, until I fell to the floor in horror. A drop of sweat rolled down my face. Then my eyes had opened and I was still in this nightmare. This place I called my home for many years. This wasteland, I must escape somehow. But, it was too late. The damage seemed unchangeable. I did not want to become pregnant too. Like these creepy 20 year old's. They just could not keep it in their pants. Yet, I was to be another sacrifice. Nevertheless, I refused to bare their children. Ask one of the Whores to do it instead. I am sure they would not mind.


Then I woke up smiling the next day. Thankfully, it was all a dream. I did not plan instantly coming impregnated by mutants. My life was back to its normal state again.
Then the door suddenly swung open. Moreover, a tall figure appeared before me. "Hey, we’re going to ----- in a couple minutes, so get ready". Nooooooooooo!


The End

This, that, and otherwise.

My brother in law Christopher has been dying for me to do a cover of this song for months.
Well, let's be fair, he wasn't actually dying, but I'm sure that is the emotion he tried to come across to me.

Anyway, here is "Wild Horses".

Take that, scumbags!

Basically, I do not like many female singers, I just don't. A lot are trying to pull off a Britney Spears growl, some are more interested in singing through their noses and pretending to sound exactly like Amy Lee. Anyhow, I have the major hots for Mrs. Terra Naomi. Because she's got Vicodin, do you want to come over? I'm tempted to.

This is the HELP MESSAGE!

I need help in the area of recording songs. I never know what to record (cover-wise).
And I get stuck because I only know the basics, and I am not one awesome guitarist, but now a days, we can basically find chords for anything. Anyway, I just wondered if any of you could just tell me a song you like and I could record it or so.

I just do not like not knowing what to sing. It is getting to me.

Thanks, my little love turtles.


Farewell.

The College Of Truth

Basically, I went into the Lonestar College yesterday and had a whole tour of it.
I met with one of the women in charge, whose name is Sandra Angel. She was such a nice lady, taking the time for me. See, I originally thought that any summer classes I wanted to take would not happen. But, to my greatest surprise, the summer is split into two sections or so. So, I can start school on July 9th if I pass the exam first.

Point of the story is, I will hopefully be going to school a hell of a lot faster than I ever expected. But now, I need a car and a license. This world is so needy. It always needs us to do so much for it. I am really happy though. Happiest in the world for this chance at school!

Farewell.

The lastest song

This is my new song, and yes, it is pretty damn orgasmic.

Bah Humbug!

Just some of my photographs.

Compilation.

Here is a compilation of some writings I just wrote in the car on my way to Shreveport, Louisiana on a visit.


I’m thirsty for your lips, your interpretations. This time of falling down so quickly is not one of my favorite weakness’. Time is shortening. Life is belonging. It seems to be the last of the first round. My beauty. My own sickness. You cause the world to crumble at your feet, but I will not. I will fail to give you refuge. I will cause harm to your meaningful conversations. And even though you thought to know me so well, you do not. You see my image, you my sweet, my shadow. Nothing more. Nothing less.


Whenever I reach for you, your hands quickly move away. Your space is my only alibi. Eyes, your own.
They drive my fantasies wild, and never decease. Ringing in my ears, caught in a motion I cannot even control. Rid me, disease. Leave me to my own destruction. The faster you go, the more I want. The harder you get, the more I want. Speak now or forever hold your fucking peace.

My valley, chased by shadows and ripping my core from inside me. Spirit, spirit on the wall, who knew my willing little frame would become more hollow. Who knew my own captivation would lead to my release?
Sing, sing, sing to me. As I crumble in your dying arms, sing to me. Let me hear the last sentences from your lovely lips. Let me kiss the wounds away, as many as I can. Image, image in my mirror. Fetch me another one, give me another chance to become the opposite of all your dreams.


I have waited hours, centuries, generations just to hear you say your name. And though it is common to my ears, I want to inhale it like my cigarettes. Like my rude words. I want to cut you in tiny pieces so I will have you forever. So you cannot run from my arms ever again. Never fear me, I just want your small pieces.
Never judge me, I just want your bloody tears.
You and your eyes need to find me.

The Vampire Weekend

This weekend took the wind out of me, and beyond, but I would rather not discuss any nastiness that I am thinking about.

We had 19 people in a 4 bedroom house. Scary first sentence, isn't it? We all gather around, drinking an unknown amount of drinks, snacking on chips and the likes, smoking delicious Djarums Blacks and we wish to ourselves that this weekend was coming back for a quick glance, but we couldn't get our hopes up.

Although my sister does not like to admit it, she has had her 32nd birthday. The theme was vampire. We all sprayed some sort of washout black hair dye, put on beautiful red lipstick, and pasted fake blood on our necks. I put the most because it amused me.
We sang Karaoke, danced a while, took a walk, drove to the closest liquor store.

I do hope it will happen soon enough.


Farewell.

I'm a Vegetarian

All my life, I have eaten meat, pounds of blubbery flesh, and crisp crunches of bacon.
Although, I have been pro to animal rights for all eternity. Recently, I was researching animal abuse online, and I found this website that physically made me sick. People can eat meat, but never really look into the suffering of the animal.
I, for one thing am not going to tell people what to believe, how to live or eat.
I just know that this is right for me. This is what I want. To not eat animals, to love them. Although that seems corny; corny is good for me.

The website is www.peta.org.

Not for the faint of heart, if you love animals.

Yann Tiersen

He is a french composer since 1995. He also wrote and composed songs for the french movie 'Amélie', in which I have not seen, but want to equally as bad as I want to hear his amazing and fascinating music.
Yann Tiersen is a sheer inspiration to me. He helps me think, helps me write, and gives me this beautiful melodies that would keep me awake in the morning and leave me in peace at night.

I have heard a lot from him, but this is my personal favorite. A fan of his made this video, and although the song actually has lyrics and goes by the title 'Rue De Cascades', I honestly like it better this way, because it will make you think, dream, live, speak and wonder about his musical inspirations.

The Wedding

My older sister Laurie plans to get married very soon.
I don't know the exact date just yet, but since I am the Maid of Honor I am entitled to write something about the bride and her to-be husband. But, I do not know what exactly to write yet, but I have some scribble on paper I wrote today.
These are just little notes, and I doubt I will use any of them for the actual wedding, but I just wanted to know what you all think.


#1 Love

Love is dark
Love is uneasy
Not easily forgotten
But easily remembered
Lost love staring bright
But true love is known
When you say I am forever yours.



#2 Words

A thousand small words
Speaking only through your heart
Never forgotten
Nor your love.


#3 Forever

Hello and always
Fates reaching hand
Is keeping so true, so lovely
In the still sand
'I promise to keep close'
I know you will say.



I am not really into so much love poetry, but sometimes it can be pretty.


Farewell.

Hell & Religion

Satan is a fiery being. He is red and steamy from head to toe, and drinks of your blood.
Well, isn't that what Jesus told us to do?
But, if Satan is all he is cooked up to be, then why didn't I think to date him sooner?


One thing I could never understand is Satanism. I have read so much about it in my search for a better religion if one at all. But, through the great talk of it, the awesome religion is was all cooked up to be, it was nothing other than believing in yourself or becoming your own God. And I, personally do not care to become my own God, so I had to shun the idea altogether.

My Puppies

I absolutely love animals, end of story. That's how I know I could never marry a person who doesn't like animals, because I would probably love the animals more than the person.


Or not.


Here are some photographs of my puppies, my loves, my little fury wonders:












I hope you like animals, but no pressure.....


*Sensual eyes blinking*


Farewell you ol' humbugs.

LIBRARY

I really, really, really want to own a giant library in my house.

It is completely unfair how the Beast in "Beauty and the Beast" gave her this forever library.

Maybe I should invest in one.

Maybe I shouldn't be jealous of disney characters.


Farewell.

The School.

For now, I am helping my sister and her husband out by walking to the school every week and taking my niece, Dylan to her speech class, and I also walk everyday to pick up my nephew Oliver.
Anyway, this is what I observed from the school...


As I walk my niece Dylan to her speech class, the air is crisp and children are nowhere to be seen, but they are heard.
The walk seems long, as she drags her feet. The steps seem to be longer than last time I had this little adventure.
We finally arrive and we sit in uncomfortable chairs that seem to be so cheap that they are not worth sitting in.
I get a backache just thinking about them, actually.
The seats are getting warm as we sit and wait for one of the five teachers to actually pay attention to us and direct us to the right class for Dylan. We continue to wait, as nobody seems to care if we sit there for long periods of time.
I stand up, staring at the closest teacher, who had avoided talking to me to begin with. Great service, right?
The teachers there are overly fluffy, with too much colour on their clothes, and way too much makeup.
As they stare at me sadly, knowing that they might actually have to help me, I begin to wonder why they act this way, then I realize that they are just too fluffy to get up, to lazy to answer questions, and too colorful to be seen by normal people, after all, they might burn someone’s eyeballs right out.

Dylan is finally called away, after the waiting for awhile had worn her into the ground and the flowers she was holding have died. She quickly runs to her teacher, who seemed pleasant, with a big smile and an underpaid job.
I hold my book neatly in my hands, trying to avoid any conversations the teachers might like to start with me, being the “bad influence” that I am. The book is somewhat interesting, but the background talking is what is really getting to me. They pass around stale jokes about how they love the cheap Easter candy and how bad some children behave.
A woman, who could not have been more than twenty-five, her expression is upset as she walks directly to the main fluffy teacher on the computer, whose beads were unbelievably cheap and gaudy. The woman begins to explain how she needs the email address of a certain child’s parents, because that child had committed a crime by saying something nasty to her own child. ‘Should I tell them directly, what the child has said’, she asked the crusty old bag for a teacher. ‘Well, you are the parent, it’s up to you, but if I were in your shoes, I would keep it quiet’, the crusty teacher replies.


I sit there in total silence, and laugh at the stupidity of the teacher and her crusty, fluffy ways. I mean, what is the point of giving someone advice, if you aren’t actually giving good advice. She must have never learned that part of life. As the concerned mother leaves, the teachers make nasty comments about her behind her back. ‘ I would have just been quiet about the whole thing, but it’s up to that woman’. It seems like such a nice place to let your children be raised, huh? Exactly my point. As soon as Dylan was free from her Kindergarten class we walked directly out of building without giving any smiles to the fluffy teachers with undercooked potato attitudes.

I know, next week I will return to that place, but by then I think I will realize how to tune them out completely.




Farewell fuzzy biscuits.

Sickness Rising

Houston, at this point has been nothing more than a pool of sickness and infections.

I don't know why so many people live here when it is so full of disease.

This place has been my home for two months, and in those two months I have found myself sick 4 times.

Pretty excited, huh?

Kinda makes you want to move to houston, now doesnt it?


All I can do at this point is name the good and bad of being sick.



1. You have an excuse for a day or two to be completely lazy. (Good)

2. Every food you eat, every beer you drink tastes like meat. (Bad)

3. People pay extra uneeded attention to you. (Good)

4. People pay WAY TOO MUCH ATTENTION TO YOU! (Bad)


The point is, being sick has it's ups and downs, but sometimes, either ones can be a real pain.

I don't like sickness. It takes away from any fun I could possibly have.

Damn you sickness!!


Farewell.

Key 80's songs

I wanted to buck the norm and show my sweet followers some of the great 80's songs I have found myself completely amused and fascinated by.


1. She Blinded Me With Science





2. Bohemian Rhapsody.




3. Don't You Want Me Baby




4. Oh Sherry (or in my mind "oh shari").




5. Hold Me Now





Take Me On






Yes, and although these videos are both scary and confusing, I'm sure somewhere in your heart you will secretly love them too.


Farewell.

My sisters and I

I have a very big family, I am the youngest of eight siblings (we have ten including my parents).

So, I have decided to put a very orgasmic and sweet little post in honor of my sisters, no matter how cruel and dumb they sometimes can be.

Karen is the oldest of the four girls, she will be celebrating her 32nd birthday in May.

Christina had just celebrated her 29th birthday, and she is feel pretty old right about now, and wondering if she should continue to lie about her age.

Laurie (my star) is going to celebrate her 21st birthday in august.
Finally, she'll be able to legally drink, hooray!

Shari (in other words, me) I am going to be celebrating my 18th birthday in December.
And also, I'm strange.

Laurie:




Tina:




Karen:






And some other random photos of my sisters and I
















Farewell, my das Schinkenbrots

April Fools Day

So basically, though I had absolutely no money to my name, no way of transpertation, I decided to take April Fool's day into my own hands.

And although I couldn't physically play a wicked little game on someone, I just the best thing I could: the internet.

I told several of my close friends and company that I have fallen ill and had gone to the doctor, and the doctor gave me some distressing news, that #1 I was pregnant.

My friends were enraged, sad, confused, and yet had little to no words to actually speak.

But always, after another great april fools, I decided to tell them #1 that I, Shari Noelle Osborn, age 17, favorite colour black (though it's actually a shade), would without anything else added in my wicked game, tell them I was lying.


What a wonderfully twisted world we live in, eh?

Distored Time With You

I am clearly in a very bizzare and unthinkable mood, so in sheer honor of that I will give you the latest poem I have written.

So humbug to you all.



I fall

You fall

We fall alone

Demented pictures

Distorting our minds

These simple photographs

Wasting all our time

I’m with you

Even for a couple minutes

Just another weak point

Figuring out where I left off

These “so-called” miracles

Have let me regretting

And all these things

That didn’t make sense

Are supposed miracles

They will be good in the end

‘But just not yet’

These words raging in me

Caught in lights

These hysterical realities

Since then

Have found the extra empty space

These blocks

These feelings

Life is serenading

And when it is all over

You won’t remember me

When it’s all over

You won’t even remember my name

Because I complicate you

And leave

That’s my place.

Oh Vitas.

This man, his voice. It makes me wonder if most WOMEN can sing that high.
But no, I beg to say they don't.
He is one of those special cases.



If this doesn't scare you, no other thing will.

Tool

I know this song is not at all new, but it is new to me.
I have been listening to Tool for awhile, but never heard this exact song, so BOOM, there is was, staring me in the face.







Jambi By Tool

Here from the king's mountain view
Here from the wild dream come true
Feast like a sultan I do
On treasures and flesh, never few.

But I, I would wish it all away.
If I thought I'd Lose you just one day.

The devil and his had me down,
in love with the dark side I'd found.
Dabble in all the way down
up to my neck soon to drown.

But you changed that all for me.
Lifted me up, turned me round.
So I...
I...
I...
I...
I would
I would
I would
Wish this all away

Prayed like a father dusk to dawn.
Beg like a hooker all night long.
Tempted the devil with my song.
And got what I wanted all along.

But I,
And I would,
If I could,
And I would,
Wish it away,
Wish it away,
Wish it all away,
Wanna wish it all away,
No prize that could hold sway,
Or justify my giving away,
my center.

So if I could I'd wish it all away.
If I thought tomorrow would take you away.
You're my peace of mind, my home, my center.
I'm just trying to hold on,
One more day.

Dim my eyes...
Dim my eyes...

Dim my eyes if they should compromise
our fulcrum what you need divides me then
I might as well be gone.

Shine on forever.
Shine on benevolent son.

Shine down upon the broken.
Shine until the two become one.

Shine on forever.
Shine on benevolent son.

Shine on upon the severed.
Shine until the two become one.

Divided I'm withering away.

Divide and I'm withering away.

Shine on upon the many, light our way
Benevolent son.

Breathe in union.
Breathe in union.
Breathe in union.
Breathe in union.
Breathe in union.
So as one survive.
Another day and season.

Silence leech, and save your poison.
Silence leech, and stay out of my way.

The Weekend

I had a lot of fun this weekend, friends usually are.
But one thing I can't help but hate is all these blisters on my feet and bruises on my body.
I almost feel like Jesus.

But thanks to the Corey Taylor & Apocalyptica song, I guess we all learnt that Jesus wasn't there.

Although I haven't been posting too painfully much on this blog, I think I will start.
I suppose we all get distracted and forget to post, but that's just a part of life.

Farewell.

Beautiful and interesting quotes and poems

These are some of the authors I really appreciate and love to read.


Interior Portrait.

You don't survive in me
Because of memories;
nor are you mine because
of a lovely longing's strength.

What does make you present
is the ardent detour
that a slow tenderness
traces in my blood

I do not need
to see you appear
being born sufficed for me
to lose you a little less.

Put Out My Eyes

Put out my eyes, and I can see you still,
Slam my ears to, and I can hear you yet;
And without any feet can I go to you;
And tongue-less, I can conjure you at will
Break off my arms, I shall take hold of you
And grasp you with my heart as with a hand;
Arrest my heart, my brain will beat as true;
And if you set this brain of mine afire,
Then on my blood-stream I yet will carry you.

The Lovers

See how in their veins all becomes spirit:
into each other they mature and grow.
Like axles, their forms tremblingly orbit,
round which it whirls, bewitching and aglow.
Thirsters, and they receive drink,
watchers, and see: they receive sight.
Let them into one another sink
so as to endure each other outright.

Water Lily

My whole life is mine, but whoever says so
will deprive me, for it is infinite.
The ripple of water, the shades of the sky
are mind; it is still the same, my life.

No desire opens me: I am full,
I never close myself with refusal-
in the rhythm of my daily soul
I do not desire- I am moved;

By being moved I exert my empire,
making the dreams of night real:
into my body at the bottom of the water
I attract the beyonds of mirrors.


You Who Never Arrived

You who never arrived
in my arms, Beloved, who were lost
from the start,
I don't even know what songs
would please you. I have given up trying
to recognize you in the surging wave of the next moment.
All the immense images in me - the far-off, deeply-felt landscape,
cities, towers, and bridges, and unsuspected turns in the path,
and those powerful lands that were once
pulsing with the life of the gods-
all rise within me to mean
you, who forever elude me.

You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
longing. An open window in a country house-, and you almost stepped out, pensive, to meet me.
Streets that I chanced upon,-- you had just walked down them and vanished.
And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors were still dizzy with your presence and, startled, gave back to my too-sudden image.
Who knows? Perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us yesterday, seperate, in the evening.

~Rainer Maria Rilke~

How glorious is it - and also how painful - to be an exception.

~Alfred de Musset~


August Night

O Muse! What does it matter, life or death?
I love, and want pallor, I love and want the pain;
I love, my genius for a kiss I won't disdain;
I love, and want to feel on my cheek wan
That stream from endless spring forever drawn.
I love, and want to sing of joy and laziness
Of my crazed life and cares of just one day.
I want to tell and say forever and ceaseless
That once vowing to live without mistress,
Only of love I vow to live and die.
Renounce to all your pride that's killing you
The bitter-filled heart that you thought was closed.
Love, and revive; to blossom be a flower.
Having suffered, even more you must suffer,
And keep loving, after having so loved.

Kiss Me More

Kiss me, kiss me more and still more,
Give me that scrumptious kiss of yours,
Give me that kiss that's tenderest,
I'll give you four that are hottest.

Sigh! You gripe? Let me soothe your pain
With ten kisses that are sweetest.
To mix with ours in bliss greatest.
Enjoy each other's over again
Though we each have our private life.
To live and let the other do likewise,
Let me insane for our love's sake.
In discreet life I'd suffer pain
If I could not give myself fain
To you madly for you to take.


Sonnet VIII

I live, I die: I burn, I drown,
Amidst the cold, heat strikes me down
Too soft and too hard my life is to me
My great sorrows are mixed with glee.

All at once I laugh and I cry
And I endure great torment in pleasure.
My happiness flees, but lasts forever.
All at once I wilt and I thrive.
Thus inconstant love torments me.
Just as I think my pain has worsened
Without thinking so I am trouble-free
Then when I believe my joy is certain
With happiness I so craved it fills me,
And sets me back to my first misfortune.


The Walk


Of the blue summer eyes, I'll walk along the paths
Slashed by the wheat blades, trampling upon fine grass,
Dreaming, I will smell the freshness at my feet
And I will let the wind bathe my uncovered head.
I'll say nothing at all, nor will I think at all,

Yet this infinite love will rise to fill my soul
Then I'll go so far away, like a bohemian.
Amidst nature, happy as if with a woman.

~Alfred de Musset~



On Time

Fly, envious Time, till thou run out thy race;
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours,
Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace;
And glut thyself with what thy womb devours
Which is no more then what is false and vain,
And merely moral dross,
So little is our loss,
So little is thy gain.
For when, as each thing bad thou has entomb'd
And last of all thy greedy self consumed,
Then long eternity shall greet our bliss,
With an individual kiss;
And joy shall overtake us, as a flood,
When every thing that is sincerely good,
And perfectly divine,
With truth, and peace, and love, shall ever shine,
About the supreme throne
Of him, to whose happy-making sight, alone,
when once our heavenly guided soul shall climb,
Then all this earthly grossness quit,
Attired with stars, we shall forever sit,
Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, O Time!

~John Milton~

If one is forever cautious, can one remain a human being?
~Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn~

Nothing is more humilating than to see idiots succeed in enterprises we have failed in.
~Gustave Flaubert~

One never tires of what is well written, style is life! It is the very blood of thought.
~Gustave Flaubert~

She did not know if she regretted having yielded to him, or whether she did not wish, on the contrary, to enjoy him the more.
~Gustave Flaubert~

The art of writing is the art of discovering what you believe.
~Gustave Flaubert~

What is the beautiful, if not the impossible.
~Gustave Flaubert~

Woman is a vulgar animal from whom man has created an excessively beautiful ideal.
~Gustave Flaubert~

Violence is a calm that disturbs you.
~Jean Genet~

My fault, my failure, is not in the passions I have, but in my lack of control on them.
~Jack Kerouac~

The Photographs say it all

These are the photographs that make me giggle at the end of the day.

Goodbye Louisiana. Hello Houston

Here are some photographs of the last moments.

I never did think I would move back to Texas, but out of nowhere a fire was lit on my buttocks, and I knew Texas was the place for me.

'Why?' You might ask. And I will tell you just why.

1. Texas has lots of colleges around, many career choices.

2. Loads of possible jobs.

3. The possibility of seeing Cradle of Filth sooner.

4. Cloves.

5. A sister with wide knowledge of the law.

6. 120 miles from Austin where I do hope one day to go to Texas State University.

Farewell.