Fire and relationships

I think i know why i am so fascinated with fire.

Fire is a visual of how i view and attempt to handle relationships.

A fire gives a glow and warmth to those close to it. Close to a fire, everything seems ok. It warms the soul and body and is needed for survival.

With fire, everything is recipricol.

Once kindled, if I add fuel, the fire will respond in kind; I add more fuel, the fire burns brighter and longer.

If I delay the fuel, the fire will die down and eventually go out.

Of course the more fuel i add, unless kept at a bare minimum the bigger the fire grows and more fuel is needed that before for mere sustanence.

Unfortunately, not all fires are good.

Once fire finds an alternate fuel source, what I add becomes relatively irrelevant. Even if i abandon it, the fire will consume its alternate source. At this point, I have lost control. If I decide to add fuel, it does not hrm the fire, but will only burn harder and hotter, quicklly consuming what i have to offer and yielding nothing. There will be a point when eventually the fire will follow the alternate source and abandon me completely.

That is a bad fire. A fire gone wild.

This is how i view relationships. In my mind, an ideal relatinship has many of the same ideals; What i put into it will be recipocated. As I add more, the relationship grows, and so will the amount i need to contribute to sustain the relatinship. Evenytually a happy medium is found, but not until the relationship completely envelops, much like a flame in a stove.

Now I wonder, why is this not the case?

Sure a fire will every once and a while sputer and crackle, but its a trademark of a fire. The glow and warmth and protection offered greatly outweighs those minor crackles and sputters and hisses.

Not so in most relationships.

I only hope my fire will reciprocate and that i have enough fuel to keep it burning bright.

Uncertainty

I feel.... I"m not sure what i feel.

Anxiety?

No, not it.

Frustration?

In a sense, but no not quite.

Apprehension?

I don't know what about.

Fear?

Yes, but from something i can't grasp.

Impatience?

There is no explanation.

Jealousy?

Once again, unfounded.

Joy?

In a bittersweet sense.

Happiness?

Yes, but something else.

Love?

Eternally, but something else invades me.

Confusion?

Yes, because this intangible feeling evades me

What is this tightening inside my chest that drives me?

Laughter is the cause of suffering

Laughter is the cause of suffering

The laughing causes hurt.

Why does the laugh cause hurt may you ask? How could an act of happiness and joy instill pain in the hearts of others?

I will tell you my friend. I will tell you.

To laugh means that somthing has been found funny. Oftentimes the creation of the hmor is at someone elses expense.

Now the true measure of a person is the ability to laugh at themselves and their faults and blunders; to enjoy the fruits of their downfall.

However, this is not always the case.

All too often the expense of others for our laugh is a detraction from their self confidence, rather than bolstering the feeling of community and brotherhhood.

It is for this reason, for example that so many of those who snap and kill hurt maim and destroy are those that others would least expect it from.

Those that others laugh, not at perse (they may quite actually be laughing with) but inside the troubled one a piece breaks off, and shatters, leaving a jingle in the minds footsteps and serves as a constant reminder of the anguish, however small.

The broken shards never fully repain, much like a crumpled photograph. The damage is always present.

And even as they look back upon fond memories of laughter and happiness, the crinkles and edgelines of folds still mark present, painting a slightly distorted version or reality.

One maimed memory is not enough to condemn a soul.

Over time though, as more and more memories are crumpled and marred by the presence of others jeers and infestations the almbum begins to grow; hundreds and thousands of distorted pictures blurr themind and bring a teasr to the eye, which only stands t magnify the creases and pain of the memory.

What would be clearly irrational to us is quite the opposite for them. Their reality has been distorted. Their lives have been warped and their minds decayed.

Mold and parasites begin to live under the creases, and futher deterriorate the photograph, and no longer is the moment fond, the memory light hearted. The skeletal remains of wht was is replaced by the ravings of what lied underneath, and the overanalysis of the past grows like a seed in the mindof the aflicted, growing and finding sustanence in the underlying workings of other memories, becomeing heavier and heavier upon the minds basis until, finally, the basis snaps and is replaced by the vine of paranoia. The mind lies strangled at the base, supporting that which it hated.

Freaked out kitty

Heh.

So i was making toast, and boo was sitting in the sink, just chilling, like a cat.

Y'know, 'cause he is a cat, and stuff....anyways moving on

Toast pops. *pfoom*

Boo freaks the FUCK out. He jumps out of the sink, whirls around and hisses at the toast.

He leers at it for a bit, daring the evil toastlings to make a move.

I'm watching this from the couch, and am now laughing.

I walk over, hug boo and tell him its ok i'll punish the evil toast by coating them with butter to make them suffer.

I did so, and proceeded to devour the infidels and their acidic buttery coating.

Boo thanked me by rubbing his face on my leg and purring.

thought i'd share.

Peer Depravity

Late one night I deamt of a boy
Whose path lay at a fork in the road
His choice as to which one to take
Was clouded by judgement of those
whom he looked up too he wanted to try
to be just like them, to be completely fake

The first path lay in sunight and flowers
but was nothing the beauty died during winter
The second path was dismal and dark
but in the end lead to something much better
Which road was taken which choice empowered
The road of the peers to fulfill his heart

Its much colder now and the trees silently whistle
On one road desolate and a sad cry can be heard
Nothing is left of what choice was made by the boy
Indeed, nothing plays at all, reality has blurred
Watercolors run together painting a picture dark and still
of a grave alone, unmarked and missed by nobody

A poem I wrote the moment I realised I loved her

lost in the mind's illusions of what could be
blinded to the subtle happiness of true reality
Seemingly lost forever and no turning back
three words echo in the distance bring me back
I love you

Pulled back into the world which you live
Realizing that life is as good as it gets
The path to the dark side will forever sit
But easily ignored because i've heard what you said.
I love you.

Random musical selections are truly nothing but
Setting a soundtrack of what i need to hear
Anger and frustration clears to songs of love
Once again you speak and i forget to steer
I love you

Blade of Love

Suddenly it seems you won't be here
how could this happen? I don't even know
What we used to have has dissappeared
replacing the warmth with frigid snow

My heart beats steadily out of my chest
Trying to escape the pain we both feel
Try as i might my soul cannot rest
The wounds too large to easily heal

I cannot understand where i went wrong
What things i said to have you be this way
I drown my sorrows in depressing songs
In an effort to suppress what my mind tries to say

My mind wins: take a razor and I start to cut
let the wound open and begin to bleed
so the pain will fade like final dusk
and my life into a sleepless dream