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teenthoughtsblog · 4 years ago

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FRENEMIES

I am Arunima (please use Aru to address me). I am thirteen, and I go to school like any normal teen. In 8th grade, it’s like a whirlpool of emotions and thoughts. I feel obligated to cram as much education as I can into my brain and push forward for these last few years of school. But that being said, these are my last few years of school and possibly of my childhood. Every day I’m confused about the way forward, and today was no different.

It was like any usual day. I struggled to wake up and get ready for school. When I boarded my school bus I dozed off as per usual, catching up on last night’s sleep. The assembly was no different with many students yawning and chatting amongst themselves. The first few classes went by in a blur (a rather boring one at that) I struggled to stay awake, let alone consciously pay attention (all courtesy of the late-night binge-watching of stranger things). As I slept the teacher must have yapped about something important because when she questioned me about the lesson, and I, flustered, answered incorrectly, she had a look of heeding malice on her cold and bony face. In homeroom, we discussed our lives’ regrets and satisfactions. At the moment I was bored, and couldn’t care less about what we did in homeroom. I remember my answer being something as general as not picking up a particular hobby.

On the bus ride home, while snacking on kurkures, and doing my homework, I couldn’t focus.

Normally I would finish all the work given on my ride home and laze around in the afternoon, but that day fate was made for me to keep getting distracted. After a few attempts of doing my homework and packing my bag, I just gave up and decided to have dinner and go to bed early. An hour went by and I still couldn’t get myself to close my eyes and get rest for more than ten minutes. There was a cold lump in my throat, and it was not because of the unnaturally low temperature of my thermostat (as put by my beloved mom). After tossing and turning in bed for quite a while, I realized that all this drama was because of the small, insignificant discussion in homeroom.

Without me putting much thought into it, that one question had seeped in and manipulated my whole day. Now that I sleeplessly put more thought into it, I stand corrected. My answer wouldn’t be something as brief and over the top as a missed hobby. It would be something in a completely different dimension. Something many would label as childish. A FRIENDSHIP.

I met Shravya when we were both four, on our first day of kindergarten. I was a timid and observant child, and she was more on the outgoing and vivacious side. It all started when she came up to me and tugged at my braids. I went on to grab hold of her collar and poke her with all my might. That was followed by an obnoxious round of tickling each other and giggling. A bond finally formed over a tiffin exchange at recess and we instantly started to grow close.

Overtime Shravya and I became like two peas in a pod, and by the end of kindergarten, everyone knew us as the two best friends who couldn’t stand a day without talking to each other. Like everything good comes to an end, the blissful phase with Shravya came crashing down as we were separated in first grade.

Those two years with Shravya were eventful, joyous and we both enjoyed them so much that we probably still know every single incident to the last detail. We had a countless number of pool parties, sleepovers, Masterchef challenges, mud fights, and fashion shows just to name a few of our many playdate activities. Our families had also met and come close together. We had even taken a vacation to Agra together. When Shravya’s brother was born and all the spotlight was supposedly stolen from her, she would keep complaining and crying, and I, forever the listener, consoled her and offered comfort with several sleepovers and playdates.

Time passed and my friendship with Shravya remained unwavering. Over time, we did hit some rough patches, but we being best friends, we always made up. Little did I know we would go on a ballistic rollercoaster ride. After being separated from 1st to 4th grade, we were overjoyed to finally come back together in 5th grade. On the first day of class 5, we sat together and chatted a LOT. No one could blame us, because we were two besties catching up on four years of being in separate classes. We shared classwork, helped each other with homework and in general, our time was blissful.

Then musical afternoon made its appearance. In our school, it’s a huge deal where there's a theme each year and all the classes form groups and perform songs in many languages. I remember that year the theme was heartbreak. The moment the theme was announced, everyone started talking about songs and groups to form. I rushed over to Shravya and started talking about a particularly emotional song I had in mind. At the time she blatantly agreed to everything that I said to pacify my racing mind. The next day when I unexpectedly arrived at her house with high hopes, the door was slammed on my face., leaving me confused and heartbroken. The events that occurred in the next phase, which I call the frenemies phase, really matched the musical theme of that year.

From that day Shravya and I were on mutilated terms and she gave treatment worse than ignoring me, aka that silent treatment. Slowly the emotions inside me changed from heartbreak to disbelief and finally anger. I threw a huge tantrum back at home. My mind went into a frenzy.

One minute I would be ripping my hair out and cursing with an astonishing speed, and then, immediately after I’d be a heap on the floor, sobbing my heart out. Days passed like this. As much as I have reluctance admitting this, but life went on, and so did our journey. Shravya was forever the socialite and had no difficulty in moving on and making new friends. I, on the other hand, would much rather keep to myself than be the expected extrovert. In a blink of the eye, Shravya had got herself an arsenal of new friends or what many Indians would recognize as chelas. My abysmal communication skills didn’t make forming friendships any easier. Her grades hiked, whereas mine dipped, she seemed buoyant and carefree, and my emotions took a toll for the worse. In general, her life had seemingly improved, and mine had taken the other path.

This feud of sorts lasted for more than a year, and in that period both of us had changed, developed, and ameliorated. A LOT. But, as the old saying goes, never judge a book by its cover. One day I ran into the person that I had learned to despise in the past year. Shravya. But there was something wrong with the person who was one of the reasons my life had hit the downward spirals.

As I knocked on the door of an occupied bathroom stall to request the occupant to hurry up, I heard faint sobbing. Knocking harder and more persistently got her to open the door, revealing my former best friend in the most disheveled state imaginable. She was all hunched up, her neat uniform all crumpled up and her perfectly symmetrical make-up smudged. Humanity overtook the petty grudges inside me and I rushed to help her up. After getting her to calm down, she started her recital.

“I’m..I’m..I’m” sorry was what shocked me. The stubbornness Shravya had displayed in all the years of being together, made me ponder on what this girl could want to apologize for?. I, however, was broken out of my train of thought when she started to sob again. “My life looks so good on the exterior, but inside it's just a confused pile of emotions and actions. I don’t know what to do..”

My mind went into a serious conflict mode, with one half of me wanting to keep my distance because of the way I’d been treated in this past year, and the other half, the more humane half of me, wanted to hear her out and comfort the damsel in distress. Both of my sides came to a compromise of sorts when I listened to what she had to say with a sour and displeasing expression.

“After our falling out, my mom and dad were very disappointed in me for treating you like that. I got a whole lot of speeches ‘never going back on your word’, ‘always stay true to what you and loved ones believe in’, and ‘what goes around, comes back’. At this I chuckled, shaking my head. “And yes, what I did to you did come back to bite me hard.” My eyebrows fought back all my brain's warnings and shot up into a surprised expression. “After we stopped talking, I went through many friendships, but everyone would break it off abruptly in some manner.” I wanted to apologize and make things right with you, but I figured you would be mad at me.” “Well, that and your astonishingly high standing ego”. Now it was her turn to chuckle. “Yeah, well that too.”

That got me to smile the brightest I’d smiled since the day we got our not so happily ever after. “It's okay, I understand that, but I’ll never be ready to go back where we had been before you know what.” I pulled Shravya into a hug and whispered, “Like the old days, we’ve made up. AGAIN. But-“We’ll keep our distance.” She completed the sentence for me, knowing what I meant from the bottom of my heart. At that, I tightened the embrace I’d pulled her into.

What goes around, comes back, and the old days came back. The frenemies phase did both of us good.

#frenemies #short fiction #short story #teen author #blog

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xannnina · 5 years ago

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Mistimed and on time

Fandom: Twin Peaks Pairing: You must find out for yourself! Notes: Keep in mind that I'm a Spaniard, and I don't use English on daily basis so, it might have some grammar/vocabulary mistakes. Please, let me know if something sounds too odd/strange or out of place. I'm just trying to do my best. Just constructive criticisim is welcome here. Other than that, ENJOY!!!

Cold and discomfort is what I feel at this very moment, even if it sounds ironic. Yes, ironic, because I’m in the middle of a room overlaid by amber solid wooden strips; the floor, the walls as well as the ceiling; with the same material but different kind of wood, are made the furniture, the doors and its frames. “Warm” and “cozy” are terms that could come to mind to anyone who went through the doorstep and they might fall short to be fitting it as the precision it deserves because the little details also take part, taking those terms to the next level: like the tree well-folded towels in the shelf by the main door; the (over the top) use of different kind of lighting such as wall lamps, recessed lights on the ceiling and the lamps on the nightstands, on the desk and on the dresser; the curtains have an unusual hexachromatic pattern of red, maroon, green, indigo, brown and grey besides its trimmings made of squares are forming triangles and its other trimmings made of triangles are forming vertical lines, and the rug with a geometric pattern standing at the end of the bed. Maybe, what breaks a little bit the pleasant atmosphere is the rifle displayed on the wall where the headboard of the bed rests. I may add the terms “clean” and “tidy”, even though the bed is unmade. Two nightstands are located on both sides of the double bed and I couldn’t help it, I used one of them as a seat even if that’s not its primary purpose or why it was designed for. I finished the drink I’ve served to myself for the third time and got up, meanwhile I was watching how the beam of sunlight were slipping through the windows, very characteristic at noon. In front of one of them I placed myself.

The sun was sparking and smashing; no, it didn’t match with my current mood, quite the contrary. I wanted its beams burn me off and get rid of me. Nothing happens; at best they only irritate my retinas and make difficult my vision. And I take a swig. And I hate the call I got just an hour ago. And I do hate its resulting news. And I drink once again to forget it. To dismember it, to break it up, to disintegrate it. And make disappear all the suffering with it. My duty is to tell him although I don’t want to because it’s too hard to bear. ‘Cause it hurts more the lies than any loss. ‘Cause it hurts more the hypocrisy than any loss.

I cannot understand what’s going on in this town lately. It used to be a placid and calm place, with mild crime cases, simple loss of domestic animals or insignificant fights in local bars and clubs. Not about brainy puzzles where you have to use a large range of tools and skills, ordinary and extraordinary ones, so you’ll be able to fit all the pieces together perfectly; drawing conclusions and solutions just by intuition, deduction or magic, even! Eluding any logic. That teenager girl turned up murdered, wrapped in plastic, Laura Palmer; Ronette, she’s still alive but with severe psychological damages; later on, it followed a series of homicides such as Renault’s brothers, Blakie, Maddy or Thomas Eckhardt; an homicide attempt against Agent Cooper too; the failed suicide attempt of Nadine; or achieved suicides like Harold Smith’s and Leland Palmer’s cases; minor wounds to Shelly Johnson caused by a murder attempt against her; some unexpected missing people such as Leo Johnson or Windom Earle; and the strangest case about a sudden death, Josie’s death… It seems that the cause of such chaos was made by an entity, they call it BOB. Or the way to put a name to all the atrocities that a human being is capable of doing in order to shutting up the lowest instincts, I’d say.

And I finished my drink. And I filled up once again. And another casualty has been added up to the homicide cases, inevitably.

A metal and clatter noise was heard behind the bathroom door; one of my best friends and coworker was inside and he was locked the door. With a pretty good kicking I managed to bring the door down, breaking the lock so I could go into. Its slam was so hard that took the door apart from its hinges.

- How’s Annie?! How’s Annie!? –

And there he was naked from head to toe, apparently he just got out of the shower, he was in front of the mirror with the forehead bloodstained; he wore his regular hairstyle but he used water instead of hair gel, it gave him a more natural and genuine look. He was making a disconcerted gesture to his reflection, to his broken reflection, at the same time his reflection was giving it back at him.

Surprisingly, it didn’t fall any piece on the sink nor the floor, from the broken mirror. It was cracked, that’s for sure, however each and every fragment was kept in place forming a chopped scene, a divided scene.

For a while, I disappeared from there looking for his red robe, I found it in the last drawer of the dresser. When I came back to the bathroom, I covered his back up with it. Later on, I managed to put in his arms through the sleeves, first one of them, then the other one. Down to his waist, on both sides, there was hanging a cord; a cord I decided to tie up with a simple knot so we’d be able to preserve his dignity as well as mine and, at the same time to win back the modesty. When I looked over the bleeding wound of his forehead, I noticed it wasn’t deep, luckily. I cleaned and disinfected it, put a clean little towel on it and made him aware that he had to put pressure on the wound to stop the blood coming out.

- I lost my balance when I stepped out… - he excused himself. - Cooper, come here and sit down –

It seemed that he already knew the answer to the question he’d asked so vehemently just few minutes ago. Also, it seemed that the unexpected accident that took place in the bathroom was not unexpected at all. Because, if any skill would be part of Agent Cooper’s identity, without a shadow of doubt, it was intuition. Even if he went to the Hell itself and came back, it’d be one of the lasts aspects of his to disappear before he lost his identity entirely.

Once he was sat on the right side of the bed, I was standing still for several minutes until I was able to clear my mind and gather my thoughts; then I knelt in front of him, meeting his glance, of which you couldn’t tell the difference between pupils and iris.

- Doctor Hayward called an hour ago, from the hospital… And it’s my duty to tell you this – A lump in my throat made my voice rough and dry – She couldn’t make it. - Annie… - he stated softly then avoided eye contact. - I’m sorry to give you such pretty bad news Cooper, I really am.

He was still immersed by a plain and growing apathy, now his face stayed stern and gloomy; his hollower and more lugubrious eyes were sparkling because they were watered, he was crying without tears. The sadness seized his heart and he was about to dive himself into it and never come out. I’ve never seen him like that; however I knew that feeling pretty well because I suffered it myself a few days ago. You start blaming yourself about everything, about all the facts, all the acts, the context, denying the harsh reality; after that you change that feeling into anger, into wrath, into impotence and ultimately you realize it’s sadness the only one that’s making this thundersquall of emotions; later on, it arises the fear of being all alone, of being empty, of being cursed. He lost two persons under the same circumstances; I lost just one. Anyway, now it was my turn to give him comfort. That’s something I’ve never been good at.

And I reached across and stroke him on the knee, it turned out to be uncovered from any clothing; and I caught his attention, and he went back making visual contact with me and, from my position, by instinct, I did shorten our distance, it occurred to me to give him a hug. Gesture he corresponded leaving the towel to the side. My arms were around him entirely. His arms were around me totally.

- I’m sorry Coop. - I didn’t learn my lesson, I should’ve seen it coming…

I wanted to protect him. I wanted to give him shelter. I wanted to mend his wounds and make them mine. Soothe such horrid and heartbreaking suffering.

I still recall our first encounter, our first greeting, our first handshake; when he came to Twin Peaks with his spotless presence and wearing a black suit and a tie, and his cheerful and optimistic personality which was always dazzling to anyone that he was passing by; he was alternating the seriousness and professionalism with the spontaneity and the passion of a child; he was fascinated by all little discoveries he found hidden in nature; looking up his surroundings with sharp and fresh eyes, not missing any detail at all. I bet that positivity he radiates might be the cause of keeping childish, delicate and rounded his facial features; one could even misinterpret them as somehow naive.

At times, he looked as if he was feminine. At times, his voice mesmerized me and disarranged my world. At times, his spontaneous behavior shook up any social protocol.

Now he wasn’t himself. They burned out his electric enthusiasm, charred his grandiloquence, each and every one of his virtues; the evisceration was so huge even his body felt much lighter. His soul, his essence and his guts were ripped open, and they were stuffed by an endless and matte emptiness and neatly stitched up. Because, now, he was not being himself; now, there was another person in his place.

And then, something happens.

He was looking for consolation in my arms because in his thoughts there was only torment. So he buried his head in my shoulder, and heaved a heavy sigh, and the shivering was exchanged for soothing soon; and another heavy sigh; and the peace wrapped us up and made that very instant stop.

And his cheek brushes against my ear and the red burst out all over my face. And his fresh citric herbal scent is enveloping me and blushes me. And then, there’s no turning back.

I move away from him a little, just few inches away. And he gathers momentum and has the nerve once and for all to rush at me. Now his lips and mine collide. And I don’t step away. Nor run away. Nor standing unfazed.

Why am I not able to stop him? Why aren’t my hands responding to me? Why is he kissing me on my mouth? Why am I delighting myself?

He made the first move pretty slowly, tasting every bite and taking delight on my mouth a bunch of good endless minutes, as long lasting gift; at the same time, he was holding my curly hair with both hands. I was simply imitating him, like a double facing his reflection in the mirror. I never imagined so much sweetness flowing out his lips, such softness and such a display of affection.

Until, our kiss broke up. And we’re still standing face to face, not too far from each other.

- Forgive me, Harry… that wasn’t an appropriate behavior towards you – murmured, then furrowed his brow and shyly smiled – Well, in fact, I’m surprisingly pleased that…

And I shortened our distance. And I wanted to taste his kisses once again, so I acted and I found them truly quivering and fragile. They’re like waves, one against the other on the sea, one superimposing over the other and sharing humidity, that’s how our mouths were acting out.

I didn’t want to hear any of his theories, didn’t want to rationalize that moment, nor wanted to label it under any invented excuse. I just wanted to enjoy it without any goal at all, after all the tragedies that were triggering in the town, I was anxious to build something good among such destruction and chaos; I craved after something good for him, something sublime and I craved it no matter what, at all costs, and I wanted it right now.

Button by button, he unbuttoned my shirt groping his way. Button by button, he met my trousers, but the belts were getting on his way. From both belts he let me out and my weapon fell down with them. Shortly, the shirt landed on the floor. The black t-shirt had the same destiny.

When we broke up the kiss in order to take it off, like waves that come and go, we met again gaining strength.

The sun was guarding my back. The backlit was in my favor and against him. The sun was giving me the different shades of his skin and was making stand a few freckles out.

Helping me with my hands in his jaw, I came away from him; I wanted to observe every one of his facial features. In the middle of his forehead, where he hit himself, there was a little cut but the bleeding stopped. His two precious stars immersed me in an autumnal landscape filled up with bur oaks exploding into sandy greenish tones; they were swinging in the breeze, dancing. His jet black but still wet hair, was making him look even more attractive, a messed up attractive look. His well delineated and thick brows intensified his glance, his thin lips and his pronounced chin made his looks to go beyond sensuality.

Far ahead of my thoughts, there were my hands, and they were occupying their touch all over his neck along his hairless chest. It didn’t take me too long to bring that milky skin he had under the reddish robe to the light, not even the sun dared to tan. His fine anatomy muscling and his barely existent body hair turned him into the most delicate being, almost porcelanic. Later, I undid the knot on his waist and placed myself in front of it, so I was close to fully laying down. I kept looking to him from a low-angle stare, he was half closing his eyes, half opening the mouth and looking forward to my next move.

I had to lift the red clothing on his legs to see the hidden secret; his spear of rosy rounded head was laying lax on one side; he wanted me to look at it so I could get the whole picture because he spread his legs to the limit. The distance got shorter and under my lips the peachy skin of his belly was vibrating and burning; at the same time, his thighs against my palms were shaking. Soon I noticed how he sank his claws into my hair and, on instinct, he was pushing me down.

I did not pay any attention to his indication, to his insistence, and to that sudden and growing desire that he was pooling clearly in his groin. When I placed my lips on his thigh, his skin began to suffer from casual spasms on and on, now the clipped and repressed breathing of his took its part on the matter; I moved along by the inside of his thigh and passed through that pretty jet black forest on his groin, brushing its foliage up and down.

Since she faded away, my passion didn’t come back so strongly for anybody; I knew her own forest but its shadows and where they led me it was a no-return place, a new identity of hers, utterly estrange and unknown for me. I felt degraded, betrayed and insignificant. After I found out her real self it seemed like all the time we spent together was reduced to pure ashes, everything turned into a simple stupid and unreal story.

However, the FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper had a forest without shadows at all, mixed foliage making a bright landscape, no nooks, no secret caves, no hiding places, no torrents, no cliffs; plain and open. It was really nice for going out for a walk, sharing experiences and having a good chat with no rush. There was just one lake in that picture, dry and consumed, waiting to be regenerated over time.

I wanted to bring on a rainstorm in it. I wanted a stream of water to fall from the sky into that consumed lake. I wanted to bring it back to life, to make it to spill over the water putting it in danger of flooding.

At that very moment I opened my eyes and spotted the scar nearby the pelvis, I framed it with my fingers. I got away a little and the scene froze, she came back to me again, to my mind, to my torment.

- Josie.

With the thumb I pressed it lengthwise, I was trying to recall the pain she caused him in the past. Present pain from the past. It was pain for him, horror for me. I wanted to travel back in time, to that very past, when she was still alive, when she was still in my arms. I wanted to change her destiny but if I couldn’t, destroy it all.

A sudden kick threw me up against the floor.

And my surroundings fade away in less than a second. By a blinding light the bedroom is gobbled up, mixed with blurred edges and dispersed tones. And the same light takes me back to another place, another time, another context. An endless place, no horizon, no stimulus. Timeless.

What time is it? What happened? Where am I? And Cooper…?

A quadruped, a mustang with a uniform toasted brown fur appeared in front of me. The four paws joined together. The four paws tied up together. Laying down on the floor. Standing still. Half sleeping. Or daydreaming. Half alive. Or nearly dead.

That strange place is bringing about more doubts than answers. It collapses my mind, it confuses me.

And my surroundings transform and deform. And a radiant light makes me close my eyes. It makes me end up with that strange vision and its disorder.

Somebody was slapping in my face. Over and over again. Being insistent.

- Wake up Harry! Harry!

To the amber solid wooden strips I came back. To the overlaid wooden room. To the room number 315 of the Great Northern Hotel. To its warm and comfy ambient. To my fellow lawman’s arms, I was losing myself in his affectionate voice while he was cheering me up. He was apologizing in my ear. The itching sensation he felt when I pressed his scar, made him do that kick against me. It wasn’t planned. It was a reflex act. A reflex act I was well aware that it might happen.

- I deserve it for being so selfish and for thinking that I’m the only one with a tragedy. - You shouldn’t let the effects of such tragedy to take control over yourself, over your actions; I assure you Josie might wish the best for you.

Was that really happening? How could it be? Was he the one giving comfort to the other, which means, to me, when it should’ve been the other way around? The field of the human psychology was too much for me, that’s for sure. Yes, it’s a technical skill you can study and put into practice later on someday but, even if I’d make my biggest effort, I’ll never be good at it, I know my limitations and this is likely to be one of them.

He helped me out leaning forward, getting up. Then, he pulled the sheets and the bedspread aside so I lay down on the bed. The energy seemed to move out from one body to another, from mine to his, when I fell down against the floor. However, my cravings for him didn’t grow smaller quite the contrary, they’re getting magnified, running wild, out of any rational control. The more time was passing, the more I was eager to eat him up, eager to posses him, eager to dominate him… I was starting to feel a huge attraction, an overwhelming attraction.

His two sandy greenish stars were contemplating me; he was still standing on the right side of the bed, wearing the robe undone, even though he was standing against the sunlight, one could even get a glimpse of his trim figure, relaxed and at peace. He knelt, stroked my hair and I took advantage of it by taking his palm and kissing gently the inside of it. And he couldn’t wait any longer and had the nerve to smack me on the lips; it looked like it was decades we hadn’t seen each other. We fully opened our mouths, and closed them, acting like fishes undersea quite a while; having one’s lips into the other’s, trampling down each other’s, overlapping one’s into the other’s; at the same time we’re framing our faces with the hands; he grabbed my neck, I held his nearly dried hair; with no rush at all, his hand began to go down through my body, through my bare chest, through my tummy and stopped on the only piece of clothing I still had on, and rubbed its surface.

At the door, someone knocked three times.

- Room service.

My fellow lawman’s head turned around to the main door, as he was looking for that new someone to talk to. My exclamation and his surprised reply went together.

- Room service? - Room service! – After two full seconds I scratched my head – Yeah, I ordered your breakfast, I thought you might be hungry.

I almost forgot that little detail that was why I didn’t mention it to him. Keeping in mind his metabolism and that he spend the whole night inside the Black Lodge, I came to the conclusion he might be starving to death. Of course, I asked for it before knowing the bad news. It might cause a knot in any stomach. It would make sense he hadn’t appetite anymore.

As quicker as I could I made myself decent, I got out of bed looking for my clothing: I put on the black t-shirt and the shirt even if it was unbuttoned. I sneaked a peek at my fellow lawman that was staying put, still knelt and his arms were resting on the bed. It took him few seconds to react, stand up and then cover up his body properly with the reddish robe and tie a pertinent knot. When I was sure that both of us were presentable, I went to the door and opened it.

- Hello, good morning Sheriff. – said a young lady with a wavy chestnut hair and honey eyes while she was holding a tray on her hands– I brought the breakfast as you requested, at twelve o’clock sharp.

Waiting no response, she came in and placed the tray on the desk, taking off the lid.

- Thank you very much… - replied Cooper while he was reading the badge that was hanging on her uniform by the left side of her chest - … Monica. It looks absolutely delicious; my congratulations to the chef; of course, to the service as well – he gave her a brief smile that she mimicked in return. - Thank you! I’ll let her know it.

She handed him the bill so he could sign it and she left the room closing the door behind her. Our eyes met once again. He after all, gave me a hint of a smile; it seemed he was hungry anyhow. He leaned in to the tray and started to smell the steaming food. Then he rubbed his hands. The breakfast I ordered was the same he used to have: a cup of black coffee, a freshly squeezed grapefruit juice, two well-done fried eggs, crisp bacon almost cremated and two slices of bread. I included a large slice of cherry pie. I made a nod of invitation for him to eat, he took a seat and he was getting a thrill out of the coffee and its unique bitter scent.

During the next three minutes, he simply sipped his coffee not paying any attention at all to the rest of the three course meal that were there in front of him.

- It’s a reasonable assumption that you might ate absolutely nothing since last night – stated remarkably certain of himself. - No, I didn’t. - Harry, I’m not hungry whereas you are. This town won’t feel the necessity for a weakened Sheriff at their service, considering his lack of food consumption – he looked at me over the mug without adding anything else. - O.K. then.

As I accepted the most part of his breakfast, he handed me over the chair and, at first I wasn’t very hungry, but I just began eating the main course and my stomach awakened to its lethargic state. It was a bit odd his behavior. Don’t get me wrong; his behavior was as odd as always, that’s for sure, but there was something about him that didn’t match with the whole picture. As I was thinking that, the gesture of his face changed: he looked away as he was about to brooding over the last fatal event, frowned his brow and clenched his jaw after taking the last sip of his coffee. His eyes were watered and barely blinking, his pupils got pretty inky, a cloud of doom were hanging over them.

The worst fate in life is to end up all alone against your wishes. You put a great effort into looking for and finding the right person, giving them the time that they deserve, looking after that intimate relationship that has grown out between you both since you found love. A deep and enduring love. At least, that’s what you thought it was, because one day they’ll hit you on the face with the one piece of news you never want to hear, blowing up everything and rocking the whole world, and why?

To turn it into a living nightmare. To end up murdering the relationship. I wanted to undo such nasty tragedy. I wanted to pluck it all up. So I could make him rise from his ashes. So I could revitalize him, bring him back to life. So I could have him and make him all mine.

- Hey Coop, this is delicious. And you were right, I was starving to death! – I wanted to break that absorption he was going deep into and falling on, so I offered him a bit of his favorite desert: cherry pie. - Oh, thank you.

As I brought a small portion of pie closer to his mouth, we made eye contact again, then he savored it for a while. He was having another bite and at the same time, I gained half a smile that lightened my heart. His lips turned pearly sheen, because he just passed his tongue through them so he could get any trace of cherry or pie. I stopped him on time, just before he was going to wipe them away; I brushed them with my thumb and later on, exchanged it for my lips. We finished the palate of the sugary dessert both together, putting our lips together, smoothly fusing ourselves between bite and bite, tasting every bitter sugary bite, mixing the slight touch of coffee, the juicy trace of cherry and the faintest whiskey flavored bite.

Today, this is my present. And I was part of it and my devotion. And I didn’t plan it; I just did let it happen.

After the last bite of the pie we carried on kissing, my hand escaped among his clothing looking for a warm surface, fingering his knee, his thigh and I got up from the chair; with the other hand messed his hair up utterly; he won even more points in charm and beauty; there he was with his hair style now so anarchic, I wasn’t able to see him like that, I wasn’t able to find himself; he was looking so casual, so pretty and informal; his new portrait made him look even younger, he turned into a rather young man just on the threshold of the puberty. My fingertips were focused on his face, on such black, well defined bushy brows, on his jet black hairline, his temples, his ears and earlobes, his jaw and his slightly prominent chin; we still were tangled up in a nonstop series of kisses. He had to put the mug on the table right away so he could grab my cloth and somehow take it off. Clearly, he was at disadvantage.

I didn’t know where we’re going exactly, I was terrified just thinking about it, because everything was new for me in that particular field; I had no experience in sexual relationships such as this, with another man; even though I didn’t consider him in that particular way; the wrapping wasn’t the most important aspect to me, it was his inner self. That was why fear wasn’t acting in my place. The attraction I was feeling for him was much stronger, capable of avoiding any problem we might find in our way. For the first time, I was paying more attention to my instincts than any reasoning and it wasn’t so bad at all. In fact, it was terribly pleasant feeling, to sense such insecurity and mystery.

My shirt was thrown to the rifle wall, after he pulled off. My black t-shirt was thrown halfway there, at the foot of the bed.

Before I could even realize, he already pulled down my pants and was fondling my crotch. To my surprise, the dagger under my boxers reacted to such provocation standing up and magnifying all of the sudden.

As good as I could, I slipped off my boots, my socks and my pants; my hand went back to his face and the other one undid the knot of his reddish clothing. At the same time, I was pushing him against the nearest wall, just in the middle of the two windows.

One in front of the other, we were, with no room between us. No letting the other go for a second, continuing with the intimate touch of ours lips together. Once and once again, we’re sharing humidity. Once and once again, sharing warmth. Once and many times, enjoying such infinite affection.

We bumped our bodies against each other as if we wanted to build a new one. We embraced ourselves so we’d be able to sense the surface of our bare flesh entirely. We’re sharing and giving out a roasting blast, and a fine sweaty friction. Our heartbeats synchronized considering his chest and mine were together, it was pure magnetism. That silky skin of his made me have a constant physical contact and even though it was squeezed in between us, my dagger was getting sharper, and as stiffened as it was, now was trying to make a hole in my colleague’s hip at any costs. While he was rubbing his spear against my pelvis.

The fire flared up by the pores of our skin, it looked like we were at the Hell itself. It was the very pit of Hell but on earth. It was the Hell itself just right there. At that point, I didn’t care about the future or if I’d ended up going straight to Heaven or to Hell. I was living on inertia, by impulses and instincts; expecting nothing in return; it didn’t matter anymore if that was right or pretty wrong; I didn’t need any ethical nor moral approval; It didn’t matter to me if it was possible or impossible, if it was just a dream or pure reality.

I was hunger for something magnificent and he was giving it to me willingly with no doubts. To die for someone in life on your deathbed, could that bring you back to life? Maybe it could.

With no rush, I broke our kiss link and his eyes looked at me very startled, they showed me their autumnal landscape in detail filled up with bur oaks. Later on, he cupped my head, started getting focused on the curls of my hair of the back of my neck. Now he was wearing the robe undone, I caught a glimpse of his perfect torso and how his nipples made an appearance shyly on his porcelanic canvas.

Inch by inch, I was running across his neck and nape with the tip of my fingers. Purring and asking for affection, he was. Exchanging my fingertips for kisses across the field. Passing and fingering his chest, abdomen and pelvis. Huffing and puffing, he was. Twirling and going back to his areolas, to his pointy centers, they arose just by the brief contact. Sobbing and patting, he was. Touching up and groping my way across his dark forest looking for his spear. Breathing in deeply, he was; and holding it like he was about to dive in the open sea.

I reached it, grabbed and handled it for a good long while, its remarkable velvety texture was screaming out for a merciless wearing away time. Three times and three more times were enough to straighten it out. Three and three more unhurried jolty motions were more than enough. Doubled its size, was standing upright with a new majestic robust shape, ready to be thrown to its prey.

But first, I wanted to sharpen it with my teeth. But first, I wanted to have it entirely in my mouth. So I went on. I almost choked on when I placed it inside, while I was getting it into the bottom of my throat several times. Such swaying occurred in unison with his suppressed moans. Such path was savory, self-hypnotic. Such rhythm sped up by the second. And the temperature turned up by half a second.

The flames were spreading all over our bodies; it was a mirror of the Hell itself. It was The Hell itself but on earth; The Hell itself on there; The Hell itself between his legs.

I did savor all the length of his burning spear, all its magnitude. One time and once again, running through it being all greedy. Once and once again, huffing and puffing, he was. Once and once again, my humidity were covering his fiery spear and covering all over again. And then, his claws sank into my skull. And once and once again, his hips were thrusting against me. And then, I took captive his glutes with both hands under the reddish clothing. And then, he leaned back and hit the wall with his head, his jaw dropped two inches and he was panting even more aggressively. And one of his legs enfolded me, took me captive. And then, my touch was focused on his roundly and a bit jutting glutes, they were like sinuous dunes. And then, I slipped two fingers in between them. And then, I wanted to go deeper into his narrowed well.

And I was just introducing the index and the middle finger when a series of long dying yeses came out from the deepest guts of my colleague’s. Fingers I introduced thoroughly into that narrow well then he started to grasp in a sharp manner. And at last, I made him to get rid of the reddish clothing so I could appreciate every bit of his bare skin, every tensed tendon, every angle, every spot, every muscle. All his body was shuddering at that physical check-up, at every new entering, at every new thrusting, at every new deeper exploration. When I finished with my fingers, just after my lips came away from his spear, I got up, took the boxers down a little just enough to pull my rigid dagger out and stick it inside him. I made him scream out half a lament half a tortured cry, then held his right leg up, the one that was enfolding me before.

And then he writhed in pleasure while his vocal cords were tearing my name apart at every jamming, at every jostling; begging for kisses, imploring them, demanding them. He reached out his arms to get a hold of my face; with his lips he was hunting for mine’s. So we kissed in such muddled way, once and once again. Our tongues met, said good bye and met a great bunch of times over and over again. And then he put his hands around my waist tightly giving a boost to the thrusting. And we were getting beyond rhythm, beyond urgency, beyond fervor. And the melody from our sobs was beginning to deaf us both; sounded more like a groan in pain than a groan for excitement, sounded more like a cry in pain than a cry of enjoyment. And one of my hands got a hold of his magnificent spear. And every time I moved back, rubbed his spear over full of energy. And every time I pushed against, applied more pressure to his spear. And then, placed both of his hands on my butt, grasping firmer and firmer to it. And I was about to reach the climax. About to reach the top of the ecstasy. And he whispered in my ear that he was at the same point. About to explode. About to bursting. Carried on swaying; harsher every next time, quicker every next time. Carried on burning in flames. Carried on smacking on the lips and making half noisy howls. Carried on giving high-pitched notes, time after time. Until I couldn’t hold it back much longer and ended up shooting all my ammo into his well; still standing chained to him, trembling and sinking myself into his whole body. Even though I’ve finished, I kept on with him and the grasp. Now three fingers were visiting his well. And as how he was huffing and puffing, I already knew he was very close to reach the top of the peak. And I planted a great bunch of passionate kisses on his neck, at the same time I sunk my fingers right deeper and deeper into his well. And it made a shiver run through his skin. And I jolted his spear even furrier and narrower. And I noticed how his well got tighten, got smaller. And now he reached the top, at last. And he spattered us both as a result.

And I embraced him in his last breath. He locked to me in an affectionate embrace, resting his lips on my shoulders. We stayed like that quite a while. Until we were able to recover the energy, to slow down the pulse, to put out our fire. Just when we moved away a little, I realized he was crying and smiling at the same time. Did I go way too far? Did I hurt him somehow? Did I upset him? There were so many doubts stuck in my throat that I couldn’t put together properly any of them. So I decided to dry his tears, to kiss his forehead and held him tightly again and he placed his head on my chest quivering, so fragile. He might be wearing in black for mourning his deceased partner all over again, might be mourning her loss. Earlier we were just friends so he might’ve been keeping up appearances, despite that he might’ve been deadly ruined inside. Now, he couldn’t care less to show me his most helpless side.

I allowed him to spew his grief out, to rain in his heart and soul. He needed that moment, he needed to fix every bit of his broken self, needed time to get all the pieces back together and heal every fracture.

In a extremely gentle manner, I headed him for the bed, made him to lie down and I kept company next to him so he could cuddle up in my chest comfortably. He didn’t let me go, not a bit, not for an instant. The storm took its time to calm down but it didn’t bother to me to wait as much as needed. He gave me support when Josie was taken away from me, he was the most helping hand and the best adviser I ever had by far. And now, he needed me more than ever, and so did I, even if I found it difficult to admit it openly.

I fondled his jet black hair, thanks to that I managed to quiet his sobs down. I planted another kiss on his forehead and didn’t move away from it. His eyelashes were raking dimly my skin. I got the impression his eyes were open yet watered.

The storm ceased already after a quite long lapse of time.

- What was it, Coop? – I was able to put into words at last. - What did just happen was the utmost representation of affection between two human beings – met his two autumnal shiny eyes - and you, my dear Harry, also took part in it.

The curious double meaning of his reply captivated me, because he was very right: affection for her and affection for me. One thing wouldn’t have happened without the other, not a good thing would’ve happened if the tragedy hadn’t started in the first place. We had to pass though that tender brute event of our lives, we were mistimed and on time, at the best and the worst of times; in that pretty and revolting precise place. That murder, that terrible criminal act committed to your nearest and dearest someone, kills a part of yourself too, a part of your identity; or it’s simply the great imprint she left on you. Later, you look around, yet everything’s wrecked you realize what remained among the wreckage; those were the ones who survived, the ones who stay on your side, who stand any emotional, spiritual or terrestrial disaster. That gives you hope again. And the gratitude I was feeling at that very instant I knew he was sensing it because a widely smile played over his face even though was wet. He was feeling the same thing and I couldn’t wait much longer so I kissed him so mildly we barely touch; as if it was my first young love, my first time going to bed with someone, and I was worried about ruining it all by acting in a rush.

Before we could even be aware of it all, we were getting very sleepy. We’ve covered ourselves with the sheet and the bedspread and then he snuggled up on my chest while I was holding him tight. I secretly dreamed to be just like that, catching a whiff of shampoo from his jet black hair; simultaneously my fingertips were brushing up and down his spine.

The sun was going down changing its color into a brighter orange. I never wanted that very moment to end, I wanted to be by his side, up to the last day of my existence.

#fanfiction #twinpeaks #twinpeaks slash #slash #truman/cooper #Dale Cooper #harry truman #cooper/truman #truper #harry/cooper #harrytruman/dalecooper #special agent dale cooper #specialagentcooper #harry/dale

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focusontheeasternlightning-blog · 6 years ago

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Reflections After an Earthquake: Is Money Really Our Reliance?

By Jingru, Japan

At about 8 am on June 18, 2018, I was ready to start working in the workshop as usual. At that moment, I suddenly heard a rumble, the earth began to shake, and the ground began to cave in.

When we saw the door of the workshop closed with a bang, we realized that it was an earthquake, and my colleagues and I scrambled to escape the building. When I had finally run to an open place, the fear and terror of the moment truly struck me. Although I knew Japan was a country with many earthquakes, I never expected to actually experience one. In that moment, my mind was a blank and my legs went soft. Aside from constantly calling out to God, I didn’t know what else to do. Through prayer, I gradually calmed myself.

In just a few minutes, more than a hundred people were gathered in the open space, everyone looked flustered. Some stood there with blank expressions, too terrified to move, while others couldn’t stop trembling, and others still clung to each other in fear. One of my female colleagues said anxiously, “Oh no, I bought a necklace a few days ago, and I still have a lot of jewelry at home. If my house collapses, all those things will be gone!” The person standing next to her also nervously said, “My gold and silver jewelry is also at home, I didn’t bring it out with me.” At this moment, the older woman who had been crying said proudly, “I’ve been through an earthquake before, and it scared me to death. Ever since then, I carry my passport, bank cards, and all my valuables with me every day.” I looked at her, and she had five rings and two bracelets in her hands. While she was talking, some of my other colleagues began to cry in fear.

When I saw the way my colleagues behaved, I suddenly felt very sad, as if I wanted to cry but couldn’t. I felt that we were living pitiable lives. We often say that fate is in our hands, but when disaster comes, who can control what happens to oneself in the next moments? But it seems like no one was thinking about that question. Even in the panic of an earthquake, people were still worried about their money and jewelry. At that moment, I remembered a passage from God’s word, “Because people do not recognize God’s orchestrations and God’s sovereignty, they always face fate defiantly, with a rebellious attitude, and always want to cast off God’s authority and sovereignty and the things fate has in store, hoping in vain to change their current circumstances and alter their fate.” I realized that because we don’t understand God’s sovereignty, we don’t understand that people’s fate is in God’s hands, which is why we all want to change our fates, and why we are so busy working to earn money and pursuing the life we want. The truth is that we are just small, insignificant individual people. Who could possibly control and change their own fate? When I thought of this, I was especially grateful to God for His kindness in giving me the privilege to hear the voice of God and recognize God’s sovereignty. So, I silently called out to God in my heart, asking God to guide me and give me the courage to face the earthquake. Slowly, I wasn’t so scared, and I knew that God was my strongest protection.

We stayed outside for nearly half an hour, and when we saw that there were no more aftershocks, our boss sent us back to work. When we returned to the workshop, my colleagues were still in fear, and didn’t have any heart to work at all, so they all asked for leave and went home, until finally only myself and two Vietnamese people were left.

There were four aftershocks that night, but I wasn’t afraid, because I relied on God. When I went to work the next day, I saw several colleagues carrying large pieces of luggage to work. Some even carried their luggage with them when they went to the cafeteria to eat, saying that they could escape at any moment if an earthquake hit. In the next few days, the aftershocks continued, and everything my colleagues talked about had to do with the earthquake. Some were checking the price of tickets back to their countries every day, and they were ready to buy tickets if the earthquake happened again. Although I was affected to some degree by these circumstances, and was afraid for my own safety, by reading God’s words, I was able to face it calmly.

I thought of God’s words: “One exhausts a lifetime’s worth of energy fighting against fate, spends all of one’s time bustling about trying to feed one’s family and shuttling back and forth between wealth and status. The things that people treasure are family, money, and fame; they view these as the most valuable things in life. All people complain about their fates, yet still they push to the back of their minds the questions that it is most imperative to examine and understand: why man is alive, how man should live, what the value and meaning of life is. All of their lives, however many years that may be, they just rush about seeking fame and fortune, until their youth has fled, until they become gray and wrinkled; until they see that fame and fortune cannot stop one’s slide toward senility, that money cannot fill the emptiness of the heart; until they understand that no one is exempt from the law of birth, aging, sickness, and death, that no one can escape what fate has in store. … When one has property, one thinks that money is one’s mainstay, that it is one’s asset in life; when people have status, they cling tightly to it and would risk their lives for its sake. Only when people are about to let go of this world do they realize that the things they spent their lives pursuing are nothing but fleeting clouds, none of which they can hold onto, none of which they can take with them, none of which can exempt them from death, none of which can provide company or consolation to a lonely soul on its way back; and least of all, none of which can give a person salvation, allow them to transcend death.” Yes, the influence of views like “money comes first” and “money makes the world go round” makes us regard money as the only thing we can rely on, and makes us think that having money means we have everything, which is why we spend our lives fighting so hard for it, but we never think about where our lives come from, or the real value and significance of our existence. Is money really something we can rely on? I thought about my colleagues, and how each of them had saved a lot of money, but when the earthquake came, did that money buy them a safe and secure life? The earthquake filled them with fear and insecurity. I thought about the earthquake in Wenchuan, China in 2008. How many rich people escaped that earthquake? Were they not affected by the disaster all the same? So many facts are laid out before us, but because we have not come before God, we do not reflect on the value and meaning of life, and we do not realize that the money we love is something outside of us, something that cannot bring us peace or save us from disaster. This is truly a great tragedy for humanity!

I remembered that when I first came to Japan, my only thought was to make money. My job was to polish the parts of the car that had just come off the production line, and there was a lot of dust produced in the process of grinding, dust which contained a lot of lead. Even wearing two breathing masks, there were still two dark circles below my nose at the end of the day. And it was summer, so the temperature in the workshop was over 40 degrees, and we had to work at least 10 hours a day. At the end of the day, my clothes were soaked. My body couldn’t take such heavy work, and I started to feel numbness in my right arm and fingers. Fortunately, God’s salvation came to me just in time, and through God’s miraculous arrangements I was able to change my job to product testing. The work was easier, and gradually my hand recovered. But, because I didn’t know God’s sovereignty, I couldn’t see the value and meaning of life. Although I followed God, I didn’t give up my pursuit of money. I still chose to work overtime when there was a conflict between overtime and meetings. After the earthquake, I thought about that very carefully. Without God’s care and protection, when disaster and death come, all the money in the world couldn’t rid me of the fear and terror in my heart or give me a sense of spiritual security, and even less could it safeguard my life.

Later, I read God’s words, “At the moment when a person is born, one lonely soul begins its experience of life on earth, its experience of the Creator’s authority which the Creator has arranged for it. Needless to say, for the person, the soul, this is an excellent opportunity to gain knowledge of the Creator’s sovereignty, to come to know His authority and to experience it personally. … If one views life as an opportunity to experience the Creator’s sovereignty and come to know His authority, if one sees one’s life as a rare chance to perform one’s duty as a created human being and to fulfill one’s mission, then one will necessarily have the correct outlook on life, will live a life blessed and guided by the Creator, will walk in the light of the Creator, know the Creator’s sovereignty, come under His dominion, become a witness to His miraculous deeds and to His authority. Needless to say, such a person will necessarily be loved and accepted by the Creator, and only such a person can hold a calm attitude toward death, can joyfully welcome life’s final juncture.” God’s word made me understand the value and meaning of living as a created being. All that I have comes from God, it was God that gave me the opportunity to understand His sovereignty and authority, and He also gave me the chance to fulfill the duties of a created being. I ought to pursue the truth, experience God’s work, pursue knowledge of God, and fulfill my duty as a created thing. These are the correct goals to pursue in life. Later, I spoke with my bosses to request a reduction in my overtime work, and they agreed. When I could attend meetings regularly with my brothers and sisters, I felt a release in my heart that I have never felt before. Thanks be to God for making me reflect on my life and giving me a new understanding through this earthquake. Now, I know how to live so that my soul feels peace and joy.

#Christian Testimonies #Inspiration for Life #Meaning of Life #Believe in God

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pro-seo-services-on-fiverr-blog · 6 years ago

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How To Improve Your Google Rankings: 9 Steps to Rank Higher Fast Using Analytics DIGITAL STRATEGY

SEO is also slow. Normally it takes years to build the ability of a domain and also the positions of pages. Search engine optimization may be the most economical kind of promotion I understand. It is in fact.

But there is one large short cut.

This really is a detail by detail guide to improving your Google ranks fast. Oahu is the just fast SEO strategy I am aware of. When you've never done this earlier, there might be tremendous opportunities to boost your Google rankings. The trick is on your Analytics.

Update: Since this movie, Google Analytics changed the title of this"Search Engine Optimization" report. Even the"Queries" data has become under Acquisition > Search Console > Queries in the place of"Search Engine Optimization."

The purpose is to come across a keyphrase that you are already rank for, however perhaps not rank that high quality. In the event that you're able to discover these phrases, then it is possible to discover the page. In the event that you may locate the page that is certainly standing, you may better optimize it to the term and see the status jump.

Be sensible? Listed here is the overview again, and we'll get into detail.

Locate the phrases for that you nearly rank top.

Locate the webpage at Google search engine results. Confirm the standing.

Then enhance the page by indicating the significance of the term.

Check back and see whether it functioned out.

It's extremely fast. There's not any requirement to research key-phrases since Analytics provides us with the exact term. It's not necessary to inspect the contest, as it has already Understand in Google. This is exactly the reason why there really is actually the fastest solution to increase Google positions with the lowest possible work.

The full procedure takes you five to ten minutes. Sound good?

1. Have a Peek at the"Queries" record

To begin with, let us discover the phrases that you are nearly rank high for.

Note: When you are unable to gain access to this document, you probably have not joined your Search Console accounts to Google Analytics. There is a video below which shows how to put up this.

This report reveals:

All the phrases you position to get

The number of times you've emerged in Google (impressions)

The number of times that your pages are seen from these types of phrases (clicks)

How large you rank for your term (average standing ).

2. Establish an innovative filter

We're trying to find phrases which rank at Google, however, can use improvement. We will need to make use of an Advanced Filter to get only the phrases that we rank high, however, perhaps not overly significant.

The notion is a typical page which rankings more than 10 is packed with the page. This presumes there are 10 organic search listings on the page, which isn't the situation, however, it's close enough for all of us to create this job.

To put it differently, this report inquires Google Analytics this particular question: "What phrases do I rank for on page two?"

Where is the ideal spot to hide a dead person? Page 2 of Google.

Nobody would like to position on a page, however, the fantastic thing is, on top of the page is a page. That really is really low hanging fruit!

3. Form the report from ranks Click on the column pointer"Average Position" to form the document. Actually, you should need to click it so it's possible to observe the 11s on the very top.

ProTip! Keep your valuable left, sorted Queries account as a short cut. This is likely to make it simpler for at the next moment. Simply click on the"Shortcut" connection above the name, name it and then click OK. The report will probably soon be available anytime on the left side navigation of Google Analytics.

4. Hurry through this listing, locate phrases and affirm the positions You'll immediately realize that the report indicates a few phrases that are strange. Matters which seem insignificant. Do not fret about these. Every website rankings for UN-related phrases. Just ignore them and continue looking.

This report also can reveal phrases which have your name. Jump beyond those too. Search engine optimization is all about rank and receiving traffic out of non-branded phrases.

Ideally, you are going to locate some buyer-related key-phrases. Bear in mind, that there are two sorts of keywords...

Phrases entered by men and women who're researching an issue, without even knowing how they wish to resolve it.

Phrases entered by men and women who discover how they wish to address their problem and so are searching for a supposed solution. They have been frequently prepared to devote money. The currency (as in the leads) come at the buyer-related phrases! ).

Locate a Couple? Great. Let us move ahead.

5. Confirm your positions Start looking for your phrases in Google to ensure your positions. Today you'll see that the"average position" isn't exactly the same as positions. On some occasions, you will wind up standing more than the report implies. Other times you won't see your site in any way.

There are always a whole lot of good reasons for the disagreements.

Your website might have a lot more than 1 page which rankings to your term.

Your website might position in image search engine results.

Your website might rank differently now compared to average ranking round the date range within this document.

Your search results might be personalized for you personally based on where you are, surfing history, etc..

You are able to avert that last difficulty by doing several things until you hunt: logging of Google, with"private" or even"incognito" settings on your browser, with a browser that you do not ordinarily utilize, with a proxy server for connecting with Google or using Google's Ad Preview program.

Note: Really, there isn't any such thing as a totally impartial search. This is exactly why A/B analyzing for Google positions is hopeless. There are in fact many variants of Google out there! Therefore do not fret a lot about looking for anonymous.

Do not count on the data to be true. You are only searching for hints.

Locate a page which rankings for a term, however, perhaps not overly significant? Great. Let us carry on!

6. Check to determine how the term is used to the page Today you would like to observe well the page has been optimized to the term. Is it true that the term appears on the page while in the appropriate places? Are the webpage suggesting significance?

It's likely that the term scarcely appeared on the page in any way. It's potential the ranking was utterly random.

If this is so, you finally have the chance to point the value and enhance your positions with hardly any work. Here is the Way to assess:

When seeing the webpage, seek out the word (using control+F or control +F on a Mac) exactly like you'd in a Word file.

Is it true that the term shows up on the web page?

Does this appear altogether, or could it be separated?

Where does this appear? From the name, body and header text?

Exactly how often could it be utilized at each spot?

If the word isn't from the name, body and header text, then these pages were not really optimized. The Google positions were casual.

Detect that the page isn't optimized? Great! But ...

Warning: Before you move, check to be certain this page isn't already rank for different words. It will be likely to signify that the significance of a single word and hurt the significance for yet another term.

To be certain that you never de-optimize it, return straight back again to your Queries report and search for different words that the page could rank for. Try to find all these phrases from Google. Or simply enter the page address into SEMrush. This will inform you each of the phrases that the page rankings to get and how high. That is amazing data!

When the page ranks for the following duration, assess the quantity at the Google Keyword Planner. Maybe your term popular? Is it a much relevant phrase that can attract more targeted visitors?

If the answer is yes, then do not hurt the significance of this particular term. Return straight back to the start and start again, or move into the following thing working with the greater term.

Improve the Webpage and signify that the significance of your term

Search engine optimization is about signaling value. We suggest significance utilizing on-page SEO guidelines, which we'll outline here.

#improve ranking #google ranking #seo

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dipulb3 · 5 years ago

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Fatherhood and the pandemic: How men are stepping up with child care | Foxton News

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/fatherhood-and-the-pandemic-how-men-are-stepping-up-with-child-care-foxton-news-2/

Fatherhood and the pandemic: How men are stepping up with child care | Foxton News

“I am affected by guilt. It is a new feeling, and I’ve it on a regular basis,” Elias stated in regards to the strain to ensure his sons, Four and seven, are being adequately stimulated through the day. “It is onerous. My mind is break up, my consideration goes in so many instructions directly.”

For a lot of dads, this Father’s Day might be completely different. Positive, they’ve at all times cherished their children and valued being a mum or dad. However by no means earlier than have so many fathers spent a lot time deep within the parenting trenches.

Earlier than the pandemic, girls had been already, on common, making lower than males and doing extra unpaid family labor — even when each dad and mom had full-time jobs.

However — and this is the excellent news — the shelter-in-place legal guidelines have led to dads doing greater than ever round the home. Some specialists consider this may very well be a watershed second for gender equality within the house.

Correcting the gender imbalance at house

Over the previous 50 years, fathers have, little by little, change into extra engaged dad and mom.

At present’s dads do roughly three times as much child care, and greater than two occasions as a lot home tasks as fathers did in 1965. Additionally, the vast majority of dads say they value gender equality within the house and wish to spend more time with their children.

Nonetheless, we’re removed from fairness round the home, and ladies endure for it. Moms are penalized at work due to the idea that they, and never their male companions if they’ve one, might be sidetracked by home tasks.

Additionally, paternity leave, paid or unpaid, stays uncommon, and even when fathers are provided it they do not take it. That is regardless of proof that paternity go away results in dads being extra concerned fathers in the long term, and extra equitably dividing chores with their companions.

That is as cultural as it’s structural, and people two items are rooster and the egg. We lack insurance policies — at the very least in the US — that permit dad and mom to share work extra equitably as a result of the individuals do not demand them, and folks cannot embrace extra equitable sharing as a result of the insurance policies do not permit them.

“Males are torn between the breadwinning position and parenting,” stated Daniel L. Carlson, assistant professor of household and shopper research on the College of Utah.

“We all know that almost all girls say they will not marry a person who will not be a breadwinner. However then the lads additionally wish to be concerned dads. Then on the office, they’re anticipated to be solely the breadwinner with no different tasks and, when push involves shove, work wins.”

Typically, huge shifts require an exterior tipping level, and Carlson and different specialists believed Covid-19 may present simply that in the case of males reconciling their work and household lives.

A current survey performed by Carlson and colleagues discovered that, in response to each women and men, males are doing extra little one care and home tasks through the pandemic than they did earlier than.

This analysis is in line with findings from Harvard University in addition to internatinal research from Canada, Turkey, the Netherlands and elsewhere. In line with the Harvard research, 68% of dads stated they report feeling nearer or a lot nearer to their youngsters because the pandemic, and 57% % stated they’re appreciating their youngsters extra.

Additionally, a current study from New America primarily based on information collected earlier than the pandemic discovered that fathers at this time wish to be emotionally linked to their youngsters. Within the survey, extra fathers rated “exhibiting love and affection” and “instructing the kid about life” as “crucial” reasonably than being the breadwinner.

“The hope is that even after we return to a pre-pandemic scenario, males will proceed doing extra round the home. We all know that is the case when males take parental go away and are house when their infants are born. They keep excessive ranges of involvement [with their families] once they return to work,” Carlson stated.

For a lot of dads, the pandemic has given them an opportunity to assume extra deeply about how they interact with their youngsters, and methods wherein they may do it higher.

“Today I discover that I’m continuously in dialog with myself, considering extra about the way to look after my son. I am considering extra about the way to deal with my frustration with my 4-year-old,” stated Shiv Gupta, a father of 1 in Berkeley, California, who has performed extra caregiving because the pandemic began on account of his spouse being a physician.

Gupta’s son has Down syndrome, and, till not too long ago, his spouse has led the trouble to ensure their son is growing as greatest as he can via academic workout routines and therapies. However now, Gupta is taking extra of that on, via analysis and engagement along with his son.

“Am I doing sufficient? Am I doing it on par with my spouse? I do not assume so, however I’m attempting. I’ve a protracted solution to go.”

Fathering and dealing could, lastly, change into extra suitable

Titan Alon, assistant professor of economics at College of California, San Diego, stated that the pandemic may also doubtless result in structural adjustments at work that can make dads’ deeper engagement with household life attainable.

“What we anticipate culturally, and what the economics of the day require, are linked,” Alon stated. “The outdated norms and fashions [of work] do not work within the fashionable financial atmosphere.”

The pandemic will result in an increase in versatile work preparations, that are extra frequent in different international locations, Alon believed. Whereas companies have been slowly transferring on this route for a very long time, the pandemic has compelled them to each easy out the kinks and fine-tune the know-how to make it useful. Simply as importantly, workers and executives are getting used to it, and Alon suspected that this newfound consolation with working from house will change how we work transferring ahead.

A shift to working from house helps us transfer towards gender equality in two methods: Mothers will extra simply be capable of concurrently handle work and household tasks, and dads can have extra flexibility and due to this fact be capable of tackle extra household tasks. Additionally, as extra workers anticipate it, extra employers will really feel compelled to supply it with a purpose to stay aggressive.

Fathers are studying to open up

Then there’s the shift in optics. Earlier than the pandemic, many dads would keep away from talking about their households in entrance of their bosses and colleagues, lest it made them appear much less dependable. However now, with toddlers crashing Zoom conferences, and deadlines deliberate round nap and TV time, the cat is formally out of the bag.

That is notably the case for the husbands of the important staff, the vast majority of that are girls. In 9% of households, Mother is out of the home, and Dad is house the place he’s, doubtless, operating the present in the case of little one care. It is a minority, positive, however a not insignificant one representing thousands and thousands of households.

“Seeing all these fathers taking good care of their youngsters is bursting our public picture of what it means to be a working father,” Alon stated.

Along with opening up about fatherhood within the office, dads are additionally studying the way to speak in confidence to their friends.

For Stephen Dypiangco, co-founder of Dadventures, the pandemic has led to alternatives for males to share their emotions about fatherhood.

At first of the pandemic, Dypiangco began a textual content group with dad mates to speak in regards to the new actuality. It started with one dad asking when faculty ended, after which one other dad answering, and took off from there.

“Beginning it made me notice that there simply hasn’t been this house earlier than. It is very overseas for dads to attach with one another and help one another in the case of little one care,” he stated. “It made me notice that there’s a starvation on the market for this.”

Dypiangco believed that male isolation, and males’s incapacity to be susceptible with each other, is likely one of the causes dads do much less parenting.

Dads do not feel as snug as girls admitting that they’re exhausted or scared, and due to this fact aren’t capable of work via the sophisticated emotions that include parenting. He stated dads want extra alternatives to discover themselves as dad and mom, which can give them permission to let go.

“There’s been a lot on the market for mothers, Fb teams and extra to speak about parenting … and mainly nothing for dads,” he stated. It is an issue he hopes to assist repair, one pandemic dad group textual content at a time.

Elissa Strauss is a daily contributor to Appradab, the place she writes in regards to the politics and tradition of parenthood. She is writing a e book in regards to the energy of caring for others for Simon & Schuster. Her work has appeared within the New York Instances, Slate, Glamour and Mother and father. Comply with her on Twitter @elissaavery.

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yeskhanzadame11 · 5 years ago

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5 Ways to Break Through Weight Loss Plateaus

Have you hit a weight reduction plateau? It's time to study why, and what you could do about it.

Fat was practically falling off your body only some weeks ago, and now you're questioning in case your scale is damaged due to the fact regardless of what you do, your weight won't budge.

What gives?

Why did your recurring all of sudden prevent running, and what can you do to push through this weight loss plateau?

Understanding Weight Loss Vs. Fat Loss

"Weight loss" is a complex little devil as it doesn't differentiate between changes in fats, muscle, and water.

The goal, of direction, is to lose most fats and minimal muscle, and to maintain water retention at a healthy minimal. When you step on the size and sign in a pound lighter than the day or week before, you likely assume that you've misplaced a pound of fat; in case you weigh the same or extra, you possibly anticipate that you've lost no fat, or gained. Unfortunately, it's not that easy.

Nothing swings weight up or down as without problems as water retention, as an example. If you consume a variety of sodium and carbs, and drink little water, you'll preserve quite a chunk of water, giving you that puffy, clean appearance. This can easily upload three-5 kilos in an afternoon, which may be quite stressful if you show up to hit the scale on this kingdom. On the flip aspect, you eat little sodium and carbs and drink lots of water, your body will flush water out, providing you with a tougher, extra defined appearance, which may lead you to suppose that it become a extremely good day of fats loss.

The unpredictability of water retention is one reason why I simplest weigh myself once according to week, on the equal day, in the morning, naked. Weighing yourself more than one times in line with week, or worse, in step with day, will fast kill your confidence and mess along with your head.

I additionally advise that you pick a "weigh day" that does not contain a cheat meal, as this will regularly upload a pound or two of water as a way to come out by way of the give up of the next day (my enjoy, at the least).

What is a True Weight Loss Plateau?

A authentic weight reduction plateau is a state of affairs in which you are not dropping fat.

I recall that I've hit a plateau if my weight hasn't changed in weeks. As I'm only going for one pound of actual fats loss in keeping with week, no exchange on the dimensions after one week of dieting isn't always necessarily a cause for subject-I ought who've lost that pound of fat but manifest to be maintaining a chunk of water, or maybe my bowel movements were not as normal within the previous day or two. No alternate in weight after two weeks of weight-reduction plan tells me that I'm in reality stuck.

Some Fat-Loss Facts to Keep in Mind

Before I cowl how to break these plateaus, I want you to understand some things about losing fats.

1. Weight Loss Plateaus Are to Be Expected

Just about everyone experiences weight reduction plateaus. If you have no concept what I'm speaking about and are able to reach single-digit frame fats probabilities with entire ease, rely yourself lucky. It's very not unusual for human beings to hit numerous plateaus on their trips to a six percent due to the fact, nicely, the human frame is just cussed on the subject of shedding fats.

I've determined that I cannot get underneath 9-10% frame fats on weight loss program on my own (you could most effective reduce your energy a lot, or you begin to consume up muscle)-I should add in aerobic if I want to keep losing. When I bulk, I generally stop off around 14-15% frame fats, and I can diet off the first 5% or so, however then I hit a plateau that simplest three-4 days in line with week of cardio can therapy (20-25 minutes per consultation). Then, the following plateau for me comes round eight%. If I want to go decrease, I must up my aerobic to four days consistent with week, for 30-forty minutes in line with consultation.

Everyone I've skilled and in any other case helped has skilled the identical phenomenon, however the thresholds vary. I've known a few rare human beings that could diet decrease than 10% with out including aerobic, however the general public can not destroy double-digit frame fats chances with out a very strict eating regimen and everyday cardio recurring.

2. The More You Lose, the Harder It Gets

The leaner you come to be, the longer it takes to lose fat healthily (the key, as you need to preserve as a whole lot muscle and strength as possible while losing fats). If you are at 25% body fat, it's very possible to lose 2-three kilos of fats in keeping with week for the first numerous weeks. If you're at 10% body fat and are creating a run for single digits, but, 2-3 kilos of fats in step with week might be not possible with out dangerous tablets.

For me, as soon as I get beneath 12% or so, I'm very satisfied to look simply one pound of fats loss in line with week, and I ought to work for it.

3. Your Body Has a "Comfort Zone"

Although it might sound a bit bro scientific, it is the quality manner I can describe a phenomenon skilled via me and hundreds of thousands of other athletes round the arena. The frame seems to have a weight (and, accordingly, a frame fats percentage) that it's miles most cozy at. Your herbal appetite has a tendency to maintain this weight and in case you eat less than this, you sense hungry. If you devour greater than this, you experience quite complete.

For a few, this "comfort quarter" is fairly fat, at the same time as others settle right into a weight that is quite lean. For me, as an instance, I discover that my body is maximum secure round eleven% body fat (which would presently positioned me at approximately 200 lbs). I don't need to watch my calories too intently and I can cheat numerous instances in step with week, and I'll simply live round 11%.

Now, retaining a weight underneath this consolation zone calls for steady work inside the form of limiting calories and doing aerobic. Getting fatter than this requires everyday overeating, and if this continues for too lengthy, the comfort region creeps higher and higher.

5 Ways to Break Your Weight Loss Plateaus

Alright, now that you recognize the distinction among weight reduction plateaus and fat loss plateaus, right here are 3 surefire approaches to stoke your frame's furnace again to hold the fat coming off.

1. Re-Calculate Your Daily Caloric Target

Your metabolism slows down as you shed pounds because your frame doesn't want to exert as a whole lot power to keep its now-slimmer physique.

If you don't alter your energy to account for this, you may hit a plateau. The easy way to avoid this is to re-calculate your day by day caloric target after each 15 pounds of weight reduction. As you may see, the goal creeps decrease and lower.

There are many formulation obtainable for figuring out how a great deal you have to devour to lose weight, but here is a simple one based totally at the Natch Candler:

1.2 grams of protein according to pound of body weight

1 gram of carbohydrate in step with pound of frame weight

1 gram of fat according to 5 pounds of frame weight

That simple macro nutrient system will put you in a mild caloric deficit and permit for steady, healthy weight reduction. To turn it into calories, genuinely multiply the protein and carbs with the aid of 4, and the fat by using nine.

2. Control the "Hidden Calories"

Most weight reduction plateaus are due to not anything greater than "calorie creep"-that is, eating more energy than you watched. This, mixed with an ever-slowing metabolism, is a guaranteed formula for stagnation.

Calories can creep in from many places. Purposeless snacking, eating out at eating places (they load calories into food with butter, oil, sauces, and so forth.), overdoing it with condiments, and consuming alcohol are all not unusual ways to feature sufficient calories to stall your weight loss without making you feel like you're completely "off your food regimen."

The sad fact is an insignificant 200-300 calories too many per day can completely halt fat loss. To put this into attitude, it really is most effective a couple handfuls of nuts, some tablespoons of fatty salad dressing, or a small bag of chips. Yup, fats loss is that finicky. It's not very complicated, but it calls for absolute precision.

So, to triumph over the "calorie creep," you surely have to realize precisely what's going into your frame every day. You can hold a meals magazine, or you could do what I do: calculate what you need each day, smash it down into each day food, and devour the equal aspect each day, each meal. I don't have the time or persistence to paintings a group of range into my weight loss program, so I include the simplicity of choosing nutritious foods that I like, and eating them time and again.

3. Increase Your Cardio

If you understand that your day by day caloric target is right and you've got virtually no calorie creep, then you definitely need to increase your cardio.

You can upload every other day if possible (I do not propose extra than four days in keeping with week if you're also weight schooling), or add time to each day (I like to add 10 minutes to every consultation and spot how my body responds).

The idea is to simply tip the scales a little bit more within the path of fat loss and look at the results. If the first round of greater aerobic would not do it, upload extra (another 10 minutes to each session, as an instance), and you'll get there.

Oh and do HIT aerobic, please.

Four. Embrace the Cheat Meal

Yup, accept as true with it or not, the cheat meal absolutely allows you lose fats.

How?

Well, first there's the mental enhance, which maintains you glad and influenced, which ultimately makes sticking for your weight loss program less complicated.

But there's also a physiological raise.

Studies on overfeeding (the clinical time period for bunging on meals) display that doing so can improve your metabolic rate by using everywhere from three-10%. While this sounds correct, it really doesn't suggest a great deal whilst you consider which you could need to consume a everywhere from some hundred to a few thousand greater calories in an afternoon to attain this effect.

More important are the consequences cheating has on a hormone referred to as lepton, which regulates starvation, your metabolic rate, urge for food, motivation, and libido, as well as serving other capabilities on your frame.

When you are in a caloric deficit and lose frame fat, your lepton tiers drop. This, in turn, reasons your metabolic fee to slow down, your urge for food to growth, your motivation to wane, and your temper to bitter.

On the opposite hand, while you provide your frame extra power (energy) than it needs, lepton levels are boosted, that may then have superb effects on fat oxidation, thyroid interest, temper, and even testosterone ranges.

So if it is an increase in lepton ranges which you actually need, how do you first-rate achieve it?

Eating carbohydrates is the only way. Second to that is eating protein (high-protein food additionally improve your metabolic price). Dietary fat aren't very effective at increasing lepton stages, and alcohol surely inhibits it.

So, if your weight is stuck and you are irritable and demotivated, a nice kick of lepton is probably all you need to get the scales moving again.

Have a nice cheat meal full of protein and carbs, and revel in the raise in your lepton degrees. It can help your weight loss!

Five. Lift Heavy Weights

If you're acquainted with any of my paintings, you realize I'm a massive fan of lifting heavy weights. Well, a few of the many benefits of lifting heavy is the fact that it facilitates speed up fats loss.

A observe published by way of Greek sports scientists observed that men that trained with heavy weights (eighty-eighty five% in their one-rep max, or "1RM") accelerated their metabolic costs over the following three days, burning loads greater calories than the guys that trained with lighter weights (45-sixty five% of their RM).

So hit the weights and hit them tough in case you need to jack up your metabolic charge and in flip, accelerate your fat loss.

And if you need to score greater points, recognition on compound lifts like squats and dead lifts, because these are the types that burn the maximum submit-exercise energy.

Summary

I desire you discovered this article beneficial and understand that the adventure to a lean, muscular body is a marathon, not a sprint.

Have you ever experienced a weight reduction plateau? Were you capable to break thru? If so, what did you do? If not, did this article provide you with a better concept as to why? I'd like to listen from you at my blog, Muscle For Life!

Hi,

I'm Mike and I accept as true with that absolutely everyone can achieve the body of his or her dreams, and I paintings hard to offer every person that threat by means of providing viable, validated recommendation grounded in technology, now not a preference to sell phony magazines, exercise merchandise, or dietary supplements.

Through my paintings, I've helped thousands of people gain their fitness and health desires, and I share the whole lot I realize in my books.

So if you're looking to get in form and look extremely good, then I think I will let you. I hope you experience my books and I'd like to hear from you at my website, [https://fitbeautysalon.com/]

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omeganian · 7 years ago

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The Opal

King Nureddin at sixteen years of age ascended the throne of Syria. It was at the time when, as stated by Ariosto, the spirit of chivalry has bent all nations to the laws of honor alone, and united all the tribes of various faiths in a single worship of beauty.

King Nureddin has not vainly worn the royal crown; he surrounded it with the shine of war and victories and spread the thunder of Syrian arms far beyond the state’s borders. In battles and duels, magnificent tournaments and lonely journeys, among Muslims and infidels – everywhere Nureddin’s sword left deep marks of his luck and valor. His name was often repeated behind the Round Table of the Twelve Valiant, and many of Charlemagne’s famous champions carried on their fearless chests the story of Nureddin’s feats, carved with clear scars through their hewn armor.

Thus through luck and valor has the Syrian king achieved both power and honor for himself; but his heart, deafened by the thunder of combat, understood only one beauty – danger, and knew but one feeling – a thirst for glory, unquenchable, limitless. Nor the ringing of glasses, nor the songs of troubadours, nor the fair maidens’ smiles could stop but for a moment the invariable course of his thoughts; after a combat he prepared for a new combat; after a victory he sought not rest, but considered new victories, planned new struggles and conquests.

Despite that, however, it happened once that Syria was at peace with all its neighbors, when Origell, the king of China, gave a new task to Nureddin’s sword. Insignificant disputes between their subjects have accidentally reached the rulers’ ears, resentment grew mutually, and soon the death of one of the kings became the only honorable condition for peace.

Marching out, Nureddin swore with his head and honor before the army and the people; not to see the walls of Damask until the entire China submits to his scepter, and Origell himself answers with his head for his offenses. Never yet has Nureddin swore in vain.

A month later, all the provinces of China, one after another, bowed to Nureddin’s sword. The defeated Origell with the remains of his chosen forces locked himself in his capital. The siege began.

Finding no way of reprieve, Origell started asking for peace, ceding to the victor half of his kingdom. Nureddin answered that he shares not with his enemies – and the siege continues.

Origell’s army is reduced daily in number and spirit; the food supplies are running out; Nureddin does not agree to the most humble requests.

Despair took the king of China; each day Origell’s condition grows worse; each day Nureddin receives a new advantage. In despair, the Chinese king offered Nureddin his entire kingdom of China, all the rights, all the titles, only to be permitted to leave with his treasures, his wives, kids and favorites. Nureddin remains implacable – and the siege continues.

Finally, seeing the inevitability of his demise, Origell surrendered everything, the treasures, the favorites, the children, the wives - and begged for life alone. Nureddin, recalling his oath, rejected that offer as well.

The siege continues, ever stronger, ever more irresistible. Ready for anything, the Chinese king decided to use one last, desperate resort for salvation - sorcery.

In his besieged capital stood a huge, ancient palace, which remained empty over a hundred years already, because an evil deed has once been committed there, so terrible that the very tale of it has disappeared from the memory of people; for one who knew it, dared not repeat it to another, and one who knew not, dared not hear it out.

Therefore, the tale was only that some evil deed was committed, and that the palace remained defiled ever since. There Origell went, consoling himself with the thought that it won’t be worse that it will be.

Amid the palace, he found a pitch; amid the pitch was a tent with a golden knob; amid the tent was a stair with flowering rails; the stair brought him to an underground passage; the passage brought him to a clearing, surrounded by an impassable forest; amid the clearing stood a hut; amid the hut sat a Dervish and read a Black Book. Origell described to him his situation and asked for aid.

The Dervish opened the Book of the Heavens and found in it; under which star was Nureddin born, and in what constellation the star is, and how far it is from the mortal earth.

Upon finding the star’s place in heavens, the Dervish started looking for its place in the heavenly fates, and for that he opened another book, the Book of Magical Signs, where upon a black page, a fiery circle was revealed to him: many stars shone on the circle, some inside, others on the edge. Nureddin’s star stood in the very center of the fiery circle.

Seeing this, the sorcerer reflected, and then spoke to Origell as follows:

“Woe to thee, o king of China, for invincible is thy foe and no charms can defeat his luck; his luck is contained within his heart, and strongly is his soul built, and all his intentions must come true; for he never wished for the impossible, never sought the unfeasible, never loved the unreal, and thus can no sorcery affect him!”

“However, - continued the Dervish, - I could have defeated his luck, I could have entangled him with charms and incantations, had there been a maiden fair enough in the world to rouse inside him such love that would have raised his heart above his star and would have forced him to think thoughts inexpressible, to seek a feeling intolerable and to speak the inconceivable; then I could have destroyed him.”

“Also, I could have destroyed him, had there been an old man in the world, one who would have sung to him such a song which could have carried him beyond lands and seas to the edge of the world, where the stars are setting.”

“I could have also destroyed him, had there been a place in nature, with mountains, with hills, with vales, with rivers, with ravines, such a place, that would have been so beautiful that Nureddin, looking upon it, would have forgotten but for a minute his daily concerns.”

“Then my charms could have affected him.”

“But there is no such maiden in the world, there is no such old man on earth, there is no such song and no such place in nature.”

“Thus Nureddin cannot perish.”

“And thou, king of China, hast no salvation even in sorcery.”

At these words of the sorcerer, Origell’s despair reached the ultimate degree, and he wanted to leave the Dervish’s hut, when the latter stopped him with the following words:

“Wait, king of China! There is one more way to defeat thy foe. Look, do thou see Nureddin’s star? High, it seems, it stands in heavens, but, should thou want to, my charms will go higher still. I shall tear the star from heavens; I shall attract it to earth; I shall squeeze it into a spark; I shall lock it in a prison secure – and I shall save thee; but for that, Sire, must thou bow to my master, and deliver to him a subject’s sacrifice.”

Origell agreed to everything. The incense was burned, the sign was drawn on the ground, the word was spoken, and the ritual was conducted.

That night – the armies were resting both in the city and in the camp – the sentries were silently walking back and forth and called one to another slowly; silently some star came off its place in the sky and falls, falls – on the dark dome, behind a dark forest; the sentries have stopped: the star disappeared – where? Unknown; only a bright trail was flowing where it has been falling; and that but for a minute; again the sky is dark and silent; the sentries went on as scheduled.

At the morning, the sword-bearer entered Nureddin’s tent: “Sire! Some monk from the mountain of Ararat wants to see thy royal face; he says he has important mysteries to tell thee”.

“Let him in”!

“What do thou want of me, holy father?”

“Sire! For sixty years I left not my cell, in the stars and books have I been learning the wisdom and mysteries of creation. I penetrated the innermost secrets of nature; I see the insides of earth and sun; the future is clear before my eyes; the destiny of men and nations is revealed before me!..”

“Monk! What do thou want of me?”

“Sire! I brought thee a ring, in which thy star is contained. Take it, and thy destiny will be in thy hands. Should thou put it on the little finger of thy left hand and look into the shine of this stone, thou shalt see thy happiness there; but there thou shalt also see thy demise, and on thee alone shall thy fate depend then, great king…”

“Old man – Nureddin interrupted him – If all the innermost secrets are revealed before thee, then how come that which is known to all the world is a secret to thee? Perhaps thou alone dost not know, ancient hermit, that Nureddin’s destiny is in his hands without thy ring, that his happiness is contained in his sword. I need no star other than the one sparkling on this blade – look at how this iron shines, and how it can punish deceivers!..”

At these words Nureddin took his sword; but when he drew it, the old monk was far outside the king’s tent, on the way to the enemy camp. A few minutes later the sword-bearer entered Nureddin’s headquarters again.

“Sire! The monk who exited thy tent recently, has been back. He told me to give thee this ring, and asks that thou ascertain his words with thy own eyes.”

“Where is he? Bring him here!”

“Upon leaving me the ring, he disappeared immediately in the forest adjoining our camp, saying only he shall come tomorrow.”

“Very well. Leave the ring here, and when he shall come, let him into my room.”

The ring was not impressing through masterwork. A round opal, set in gold simply, was dimly shooting the colors of rainbow.

“Is my destiny inside this stone? – thought Nureddin. – Tomorrow thou shalt learn thy destiny from me far more certainly, impudent deceiver!..” Yet meanwhile, the king was putting the ring on his left hand’s little finger, and, looking upon the tinted stone, tried to discover anything unusual in it.

And indeed, in the cloudily-celestial color of this ring was some special shine which Nureddin never noticed in other opals. As if a spark of fire was hidden within, which was playing and moving, now dimming, now igniting anew, and, with every movement of his hand, burning brighter and brighter.

The longer Nureddin looked at the stone, the better he saw the flame, and the brighter the stone grew. Here the flame stopped; a bright star deep inside the opal, the misty shine of which was spreading inside it; like the air of the evening sky, covered sparsely with light clouds.

In this light mist, in this bright, distant star, there was something irresistibly attractive for the king of Syria; not only could he not take his gaze away from the wonderful ring, but, forgetting at that time both war and Origell, focused he upon looking at the marvelous flame, which, now splitting into a rainbow, now merging again into a little sun, grew bigger and closer all the time.

The more Nureddin focused on looking inside the opal, the deeper and more bottomless it seemed to him. Little by little, the golden circle around the stone turned into a round window, through which shone another sky, brighter than ours, and another sun; as bright, as radiant, but as if even merrier and not as blindingly.

The new sky grew more and more shiny and detailed; the sun bigger and bigger; now it grew larger than that of earth, bigger and grander, and although blinding, yet still irresistible and attractive; fast it rolled closer and closer; or, rather, Nureddin knew not; is the sun approaching him, or is he the one flying toward the sun.

Now another phenomenon strikes his strained senses; from underneath the rolling sun a muffled and indistinct rumble sounds, like the roar of a distant wind, or the groan of bells falling silent; and the closer the sun, the clearer the rumble. Now can Nureddin clearly recognize different sounds in it: like thousands of harps are joining with manystringed notes into a consonant song; like thousands of voices are built into a single accord, some dying, some being born, and all obeying a single, varying, flowing, unbounded harmony.

These sounds, these songs, reached the depths of Nureddin’s soul. For the first time he knew what delight is. As if his heart, formerly mute, struck with the voice of his star, suddenly acquired both hearing and speech; so a ringing metal, brought to light for the first time through art, upon meeting another metal shakes to the depths of its structure, and rings back to it with its own sound. Listening hungrily to the music around him, Nureddin could not tell; what is inside his heart, and what is outside.

Now the rolling sun covered the entire dome of its sky; all burned with the glow; the air became hot, and stifling, and blinding; the music turned into a deafening thunder; and here – the flame disappeared, the sounds fell silent, and the mute sun lost its rays, and yet it grew closer and closer, shining with the cold glow of a rising moon. However, constantly dimming, soon that glow was gone as well; the sun took the appearance of earth, and now – reached him… struck… turned… and – Earth? Ring? Nureddin, not knowing how, found himself on a new planet.

Everything here was strange and unseen: mountains piled of cut diamonds; enormous rocks of pure silver, decorated with natural reliefs; graceful statues and perfect columns, growing of gold and marble. There be dazzling pavilions of colored crystals. There be a grove, and its cool shade is filled with the most gentle, most entrancing fragrance. There, a fountain spouts with wine sparkling and bright. There, a river is splashing quietly against its green shores; but in the splashing, in this voice of the waves there is something sentient, something clear without words, some wise tale about the impossible, yet real; some tale magical and alluring. Instead of the wind, music was blowing here; instead of the sun; the air itself was shining. Instead of clouds, clear images of men and gods were flying; as if removed with a magical wand from the painting of a great artist, they, light, rose to the sky, and, floating in their graceful movements, were swimming in the air.

For a long time, the Syrian king was walking in sweet reflections upon the new world, and neither his sight nor his hearing ever rested from constant rapture. And yet, among the beauty surrounding him, another thought was forcing his way into his soul: with sighs, he recalled the music which his star played, approaching; he fell in love with that music as if it was not a voice, but a living being; the longing for it was mixed into his every feeling, and hearing these charming sounds again became his sole, painful desire.

Meanwhile, in the depth of a green forest, a shining palace was revealed to him, cast wondrously from frozen smoke. The palace seemed flowing, and ruffling, and playing colors, and yet, stood strong and still. Transparent columns of pearly color were decorated with garlands of pink clouds. The smoky portico was rising like a slender rainbow, showing grace of the strictest proportions; the enormous dome seemed to be a round cascade, falling in all directions as a bright arc, without river or splashes: everything in the palace seemed alive, everything was playing, and the entirety of it looked like a floating cloud, and yet this cloud always retained its strict shape. Nureddin’s heart beat strongly when he approached the palace: an expectation of some unknown happiness filled his spirit and tormented his chest. Suddenly, light doors have opened, and, dressed in sunbeams, crowned with bright stars, girdled with a rainbow, a maiden came out.

“That’s her!” – the Syrian king exclaimed. Nureddin has recognized her. Although a misty veil hid her face, from her lithe figure, her graceful movements and her orderly steps, only a blind man would have failed to recognize that this maiden was the very Music of the Sun which has so captured his heart.

As soon as the maiden saw the Syrian king, that very moment she turned her back to him, and, as if afraid, started running along the wide alley covered with fine silver sand. The king follows.

The closer he is, the faster the maiden runs, and the more the king hastens his pace.

Grace in all her movements; hair spread over her shoulders; fast feet barely leave their narrow, slender prints on the silver sand; but here is the king close to her; now he reached her, want to embrace her slender figure, - she escapes, fast, fast… as if Grace turned into Bolt; lightly, beautifully… as if Bolt turned into Grace.

The maiden has disappeared; the king remained alone, tired, displeased. In vain he sought her in the palace and over the gardens; there were no traces of the maiden anywhere. Suddenly, from behind a bush, music blew at him, as if a question: why hast thou come here?

“I swear by the beauty of this world,” – replied Nureddin, - “that I have not come here to harm thee, and I shall not do anything against thy will, fair maiden, if only thou shalt come out to me and shalt but for a minute reveal thy face”.

“How did thou come here?” – The same music blew at him. Nureddin has told how he came by the ring, and as soon as he finished, from a shadowed pavilion came out that maiden; and the same moment the king woke up in his tent.

The ring was on his hand, and before him stood Khan Arbaaz, the bravest of his generals and the wisest of his advisors. “Sire!” – he told Nureddin, - “while thou slept, the enemy broke into our camp. None of the courtiers have dared wake thee, but I did, afraid that the victory might be in doubt without thy presence.”

A harsh, angry stare was the answer to the minister; reluctantly Nureddin put on his sword and exited the tent.

The battle was over. The Chinese armies have again locked themselves inside their walls; Nureddin, returning to his tent, again stared at the ring. Again the star, again the sun and music, and the new world, and the cloud palace, and the maiden. Now she was more open with him, but still raised not her veil.

The Chinese have attacked again. The Syrians have again driven them off; but Nureddin lost the best of his forces, who were not aided much in combat by his hand, once invincible. Often in the heat of battle the Syrian king reflected upon his ring, and in the middle of the battle remained its indifferent spectator, and, being a spectator, as if saw something different.

A few days have passed thus. Finally, the king grew tired of the worries of the war camp. Every minute not spent inside the opal was intolerable for him. He forgot both the glory and the oath: he was the first to send Origell the offer of peace, and, making it upon shameful conditions, returned to Damask; entrusted to his viziers the governing of his realm, locked himself in his palace and upon the penalty of death forbade his courtiers to enter the royal chambers without a special order.

Nureddin spent nearly all the time on his star, at maiden’s side, but was yet to see her face. Once, touched by his requests, she agreed to raise the veil; and the beauty which was revealed before his eyes could not be described by words, even magical ones, and the feeling which took over him at her look, cannot be imagined even in a dream. If the Syrian king did not die that very minute, it wasn’t, of course, because people die not from delight, but, most likely, simply because that star had no death.

Meanwhile the ministers of Nureddin cared more about their profit than the good of the state. Syria was growing weary from mismanagement and lawlessness. The servants of the ministers’ servants oppressed the people; the rich were showered with honors; the poor suffered; the people despaired, and the neighbors laughed.

Nureddin’s life upon the star was the middle between a dream and reality. The clarity of thoughts, the freshness of experiences could only belong to a life while awake; but the charms of the objects, the constant rapture of his senses, the music of the feelings of his heart and the dreaminess of all around him made his life more like a dream than reality. The Music Maiden seemed also a blending of two words. The expression of her face, constantly changing, was always in consent with Nureddin’s thoughts, so that her beauty seemed to him as much a reflection of his heart as a reflection of her soul, Her voice was between a sound and a feeling; listening to it, Nureddin knew not, whether he hears the music, or is everything silent and he merely imagines it? In every word of hers he found something new for the soul, and everything together was for him some happy recollection of something from before life. Her speech always went where his thoughts went, just as the expression of her face always followed his feelings, and yet, everything she said constantly elevated his former understanding, just as her beauty constantly amazed his imagination. Often, hand in hand, they walked silently over the wondrous world; or, seating near the wondrous river, listened to its wondrous tales; or they looked at the blue shine of the skies; or, resting upon the wavy sofas of the cloud palace, tried to gather into definite words all that was dispersed in their lives; or, spreading her veil, the maiden made it into a flying carpet, and together they flew into the air, and swam among the beautiful clouds; or, rising high, they left matters to the winds, and flew fast over the boundless spaces, and went where the sight reaches not, and the thought gets not, and flew, and flew so that their breath stopped…

But the position of Syria was constantly growing worse, and all the more dangerous because all over Asia, terrible overturns occurred. Ancient cities collapsed; enormous kingdoms shook and fell; new appeared by force; peoples moved away from their places; unknown tribes raided from places unknown; there were no borders anymore between realms; no one believed tomorrow; everyone prayed for the current moment; Nureddin alone cared for nothing. The internal mismanagement from all sides have opened Syria before external foes, province was breaking off after province, and even the most shortsighted minds started predicting its near demise.

“Maiden!” - said Nureddin once to the Music Maiden - “Kiss me!”

“I cannot,” – the maiden replied, - “should I kiss thee, I will lose all the distinction of my charm and will equal with my beauty the normal beauties of the mortal earth. There is, however, a way to fulfill thy wish without losing my beauty… it depends on thee… listen: if thou love me, give me thy ring; shining upon my hand, it will destroy the harmful effect of thy kiss.”

“But how shall I come to thee without the ring?”

“As thou see my earth in this ring, so shall I see thy earth in it, as thou come to me now, so shall I come to thee,” – said the Music Maiden, and, removing his ring with one hand, she embraced him with the other. And as soon as her lips touched Nureddin’s lips, and the ring from his hand passed onto the maiden’s, that very moment, which lasted, probably, no more than a minute, the new word suddenly disappeared along with the maiden, and Nureddin, still weary with delight, found himself alone of a soft sofa in his palace.

For a long time he awaited the promised coming of the Music Maiden, but she came not in that day; nor in two; nor in a month; nor in a year. In vain he sent people to all the ends of the earth, looking for the hermit of Ararat; already the last of them returned without success. In vain he exhausted his treasures, buying round opals from everywhere; in none of them did he find his star.

“There is but one star for each man” –sages told him, - “thou, sire, hast lost thy, another thou shalt not find anymore!”

Anguish took over the king of Syria, and he, of course, would not have hesitated to drown it in the cold waves of his golden sanded Barada, had he not only feared to lose along with his life the last shadow of the former delights – a sad, dark delight: remembering his sun.

Meanwhile, the same Origell who not long ago trembled before Nureddin’s sword, was now besieging his capital himself. Soon the walls of Damask were destroyed, the Chinese army broke into the royal palace, and all of Syria along with its king fell under the rule of the Chinese emperor.

“Here is an example of the vicissitude of luck,” – said Origell, pointing at the chained Nureddin before his generals – “now he is a slave, and along with the freedom has lost all the shine of his old name. Thou deserve thy death,” – he continued, speaking to the king of Syria – “But I cannot refuse thee mercy, seeing in thy misery the power of fate even more than my own fault. I want to, as much as possible, reward thee for losing thy throne. Tell me, What do thou want of me? What among the lost do thou miss most? Which of the palaces would thou like to keep? Which slaves? Choose the best of my treasures, and if thou want, I shall allow thee to be my deputy on thy former throne!”

“I thank thee, sire!” Answered Nureddin, - “But of all thou took away from me, I miss nothing. While I valued power, wealth and glory, I knew how to be both wealthy and powerful. I lost all these goods only after I stopped desiring them, and unworthy of my care I consider that which the people envy. Vanity is all the goods of earth! Vanity is all that charms the desires of man, and the more captivating; the less truthful, the more vanity! A deception is all the beautiful, and the more beautiful, the more deceptive; because the best there is in the world is – a dream”.

December the 30th 1830.

Moscow.

#Translation from Russian #19th century #fantasy #addiction to beauty

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lesleywiliams-blog · 8 years ago

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Dark Hearts The Board Game Is actually Smarter In comparison to It Is Challenging.

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My publisher aided me along with the written portion from the book (introduction, section openers, headnotes, and general circulation) as well as pushed me to maintain excavating deeper to permit my tale to stream into words. Yet another major ready Ps4 very likely to become rolled out with lots of troubles along with the believed coming from programmers that they can only patch the concerns.

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markomakowski5-blog · 8 years ago

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The greatest Eating Disorders Blogs Of The Year.

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castlehead · 8 years ago

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[identity vices]

[who the fuck were we?, we didn’t know, but when we had a shred of a notion, it was the biggest thing in the real world, i get my shreds and move on think of something about myself as im quietly stocking shelves and the whole time it’s just there, in my heart, and I’m just doing what I do cuz nobody cares I say, how was your weekend ah, slept in, didn’t do much the mundane is the single most common mask, precisely because it is what it says it is, it’s foolproof, locked I mean people do care, friends do, but you don’t pay people to be your friend, and that’s what ****** was: just a bunch of fucked up rich kids thinking they were making way, myself included, because we paid people to congratulate us for the most insignificant shit hahahaha hahahaha that’s not psychology it’s pedology it’s infantile So basically, they were making up for us all having fucked up parents? or fucked up childhoods? there’s something my mom says to me: "it’s never too late to have a happy childhood" I think that’s the best piece of advice I’ve ever gotten. As crazy as it is, I feel like I’ve stabilized in a way. Maybe it’s premature, but I feel like that level of depression is behind me, not because I won’t ever be that fucked up again, but because I can rationalize it and deal with it better now. And the past is just that — it’s something behind me. I feel powerful, like I have a choice in my own life again. that’s amazing and that’s giving credence to your will to move at all it starts not with the choice but with the belief that there is one, after all. inertia means powerlessness, fated to be nothing, do nothing, achieve nothing just a marble rolling across frictionless space that’s for the universe to give a will to, if there even is a thing so wild the will to salute yourself that’s what I’m glad you’ve found I mean, our own interpersonal relationships weren’t compliment based, I don’t think in a way, they were but they were also driven off of needs that we still have to this day I think between you and I, there’s one night in particular that comes to mind

you were crying in ***********

and I consoled you it was a very human experience for me but I’m not complimenting, just saying that the seeing of choice in one’s life through the depressive whatever-fog, is maybe a shred I’d keep close, because it’ll always be the first thing people who are depressed will need to do before they act: find the will. . [SIDETHOUGHT: [The ‘proper’ way to read a poem or novel should be interpreted by the majority who read it, not the minority consisting of scholars and schoolmarms. The good perception of words is what effect taken in by the greater good. That, after all, is why she^ lasts. The greater good has taken its opinion over to sit with her after you slept all night on the park bench, wouldn’t even get up to let the great hunk of their collective ass hunker down next to you—once you moved that silly raincoat, it already stopped pouring five seconds ago. On top of your drenched body, the common good reads The Wasteland as your skull slowly crushes beneath the incontinent hams of a bubbling, a farting girth of what even though just metaphor must weigh as much as the continent itself, or western hemisphere if you prefer a lil meat. On bones.]]] ? ? . Who: Kafkazzzo, Freckett K. Where: Frumple of a/my bedroom, (a) Earth, getting ready to head to—a party— When: 4:42AM. Though it’s probably already happy hour somewhere. As the saying goes. What Dimension: Third Possibly Askew And Flattened Like A Very Delicious Pancake Into What Dimension: 4th, time Background: Mobile lamp way too bright. Cigarette resting in glass ashtray. Empty glass of water, purposelessness, general purposelessness. I am evading that space of it tho. And silence only stopped by the glum entreaty of the air conditioning system. Noises, kds. playing baseball in the courtyard, downstairs. Drugs Ingested: Pot. Any Pharms?: Klonopin, maximum required dosage, Lithium, Cymbalta (duloxetine HCI) And I punch him in the face. You by me a soda YOU BUY ME A SODA "You buy me soda?" Said RANDOM FRENCH GUY. “Sure.” Reached into pocket. Gave RANDOM FRENCH GUY four dollars. My Wallet has Hawaii on it. There are two pictures of HAWAII on each side of the wallet. They are the same picture. Somewhere there is a person who I am a reflection of, a year’s ago same picture, and everywhere I see and repel this sameness if that is I see it in others, however small the observation. Except, of course, if I observe such things in her. I do not wish however for others to have the same glitches. Human character is diverse enough to go a night at a party without reminiscence, eh? She is in the left ventricle of my heart, clearly seen by microscope, eating away at the cement walls there. That to the human eye, is mere idiosyncratic dominion. They say. And they say to me should I just gulf out one person from another if I have some chick who used to have big boobs chewing on my left ventricle, by now a block of pure cement fresh from the whisking mixer? How could I tell them that if so then both aren’t to be found again in the other, which is me, together; I lose her I lose myself. Then who would we be, remain as? Perhaps it does not matter to her. Or like to be even, who would I get to be if I can grant myself that? I guess what I am trying to say is that I “I need more dollar. Buy pizza.” “Only because you’re French. Consider it a war bond for the next time those Germans come to kick your sorry ass.” I gave him three dollars without thinking about it. Don’t think about it. Not often. Always willing to spot. Never have money to spot with. Because I spot so much. Drunk thinking. Here’s half a forty I’m chugging. The liquid goes down my esophagus. It is meant to be drunk to make you drunk. Everything should have meaning. That is how life should work, but it doesn’t work that way at all. It’s groping for good in life and scratching [searching] out for crumbs like tickets, no lotto, again, and the chaff of once purposed greatness led on its way up higher and higher from conscious desire, throwing away everything, only to come upon none other than unconscious desire: and then the desire is all that remains, ah so I guess that is what I would be. A lustfiend. Surviving in and of himself as a medical-grade loner. Him the result of his own destruction, the result itself, seen safely from a distance of billions of miles into his head, somewhat like a black hole. And I am like a dog forever biting its tail in an effort to gnaw the thing off. Except we are MAN, and so we hack off our tails with bare bodkins and pursue our efforts and dismays daily, diffusing it all as like a poison of the tragically mundane. Life goes well spooned together with a nice molasses of confused sensations to create the pastiche that is for our lives and for life, yes, but this becomes rather what we see in life: it might be equally as false or true, it might be: LIFE, yes, that grand, technical, way-out-there celebrity in gloves, and hardly enjoying himself at the awards ceremony, his smile attempting to reach to the ceiling, and to look maybe for a vent or some means of escape or even a deadly event as tragic as ever: well yeah who cares he is merely at a cheap height of the cosmos after all is said and done but no one knows where exactly it is done saying, so this image goes and rakes in the cosmopolitanism around him anyhow. Hungry, not for that, but having no other means to sate himself. Well, nothing like the stacks of cash this demiurge counterfeits on regular to land a celeb in jail. All the time? For years, yo. Nobody figured it out. And well don’t you know, I might say back, that God doesn’t do cash, that’s some stairway to heaven shit. God says this to me, in a toys-r-us of course, buying his fifth monopoly game board this week, opening it up, and stuffing the monopoly money in astounding pants. I suppose he is just as anyone who does this would be, now, officially desperate to pay rent:

GOD say: For, we whom are not yourselves live in coves, and do not disrupt the willing men and women of the surf to splash upon our chapped land and get up foot to foot and dust off themselves, off. It is they do not bother. The only off is on in the cave of the Removed. Stalactites filled in full rings by the petrifying jelly of screams and shrieks, of you—clear, consumptive squawks. You continue to at least darken this prison cell with your resignation, bars thick enough to shrink the teeth of my steel monster, you all beneath my skin, lingering on the meddling cusp of what I don’t know—what I don’t understand, perhaps we don’t, I know I don’t—I look at the world as though on a merry-go-round that blurs things. People smiling and looking with pleasant face. Every still phantasm, you, staring back and looking into a deep lecherous void in my eye I see. Meanwhile, it is OK: we the Removed have already supplanted that steel monster with a giant, happy frog to distract you [when you weren’t looking]. It gaily farts and bubbles in the mud and says with his blank eye [as though frogs could speak at all!] no, that we cannot go, o no, o no, NO, cannot go to heaven. Enough of farce. I’m listening to twee music. What does it matter. What does any of it matter any more. Twee crap blends in with the rest of this mess. I’ll try and get sleep, later. So many memories. Touching me. Wresting my heart from its bone prism. All the horrible memories, the forgetting me by friends I thought would stay, the forgotten sadness I too have let pass painlessly out of recollection. Sadness, sadness, deep sadness. Friends out somewhere getting wasted all alone, [as I was, am, tho it used to b among people] with just their good company to keep. Eaten by the night. Wake up, scratch leg, bug bite. Lighted I am and my recollections only by the perfidious youth sense nowadays and leaking out with regularity. Anyway let them say that was all they ever had. Ha! And yet already as I see them in my mind’s eye, through film: musty, shitty film that ratchets against the projector like a master the axe to hitch in his steed the leftover stump from last Spring, doubled with mosses for whatever reason considered consumptive to the land, or was it, they were poisonous?, my friends, they are all so very old. I am so very old.

#poetry #poem #pome #powtry #depth as predicament #the sad truth of it all

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