Dive - Andrea Gibson

I often repeat myself and the second time's a lie.

I love you.
I love you.

See what I mean? I don't and I do. And I'm not talking about a boy I might me kissing on. I'm talking about this world I'm blissing on and hating at the exact same time.

See, life doesn't rhyme. It's bullets and wind chimes, it's linchings and birthday parties. It's the rope that ties the noose, and the rope that hangs the backyard swing. It's a boy about to take his life, and with the knife to his wrist, he's thinking of only two things: his father's fist and his mother's kiss. And he can't stop crying. He's wanting tonight to speak the most honest poem I've ever spoken in my life: not knowing if that poem should bring you closer to living or dying, to drowning of flying, because life doesn't rhyme.

Last night I prayed myself to sleep. Woke this morning to find God' obituary scrolled in tears on my sheets, then I walked outside to hear my neighbor erasing ten thousand years of hard labor with a single note of his violin. The sound of traffic rang like a hymn as the holiest leaf of autumn fell from a plastic tree limb: beautiful and ugly. Like right now I'm needing nothing more than for you to hug me, and if you do, I'll scream like a caged bird. See? Life doesn't rhyme.

Sometimes love is a vulgar word, sometimes hate calls itself peace on the nightly news. I've heard saints preaching truths that would've burned me at the stake, I've heard poets telling lies that made me believe in heaven.

Sometimes I imagine Hitler at seven years old, a paintbrush in his hand at schoo, thinking: "what colour should I paint my soul?". Sometimes I remember myself with track marks on my tongue from shooting up convictions that would've hung innocent men from trees.

Have you ever seen a mother falling to her knees the day her son dies in a war she voted for? Can you imagine how many teenage lives were saved the day Mathew Shepherd died? Could there have been anything louder inside his father's head as he begged the jury: "please don't take the lives of the men who turned my son's skull to powder!". And I know nothing would make my family prouder than giving up everything I believe in, still, nothing keeps me believing like the sound of my mother breathing. Life doesn't rhyme.

It's tasting the rapist's breath on the neck of the woman who loves you more than anyone has ever loved you before, then feeling holy beneath the hands of a one night stand who's calling somebody else's name. It's you never feeling more greedy than when you're handing out dollars to the needy. It's my not eating meat for the last seven years, yet seeing the kindest eyes I have ever seen on the face of the man with a branding iron in his hand and a beat-down baby calf wailing at his feet. It's choking on your beliefs. It's your worst sin saving your fucking life. It's the devil's knife carving holes into your soul so angels will have a place to make their way inside.

Life doesn't rhyme. Still life is poetry, not math. All the world is a stage, but the stage is a meditation mat. You tilt your head back, you breathe. When your heart's broken you plant seeds in the cracks and you pray for rain. And you teach your sons and daughters that there are sharks in the water, but the only way to survive is to breathe deep, and dive.

I wish for the whole truth everytime you speak.

Never make promises when you're happy
& never make decisions when you're angry.

Don't say you'll do something you know you'll never do,
and don't do anything in the spur of a moment if you're not sure you'll regret it.

La Vie En Rose

Edith Piaf

1915-1963

She sang of love for love. She only wanted to be happy. I wish I could've met her. Every time I see a picture of her, or listen to one of her songs I get this urge to cry. She was amazing, geniune, special. She was passionate about what she did, and that's how I want to be. Just like her.

Little Bundle Of Contradictions

I know who I am. I know what I am. I know what I like, what I don't, what I should, what I shouldn't. I know where I am and where I want to be. I know where my life is taking me and where I want to take my life. But all of that fluctuates soooo much. I feel like I know everything one day, and I wake up the next and start asking questions, start having doubts, start taking steps back instead of going forward.

I have doubts about almost everything that once defined me, tonight. I have doubts about God. I have no idea whether he exists or not. I have no idea if He intervenes in any way with what goes on with us. I was taught some stuff about Him, but the thing is, I don't know if I want to live my life opressed by some idea that someone planted in my head, having the power to exterminate it, and doing nothing, just because I was raised that way.

I'm not saying I'm an atheist. I'm not. I know there must be something bigger out there, but I don't know if that bigger thing is the God I've always believed in. It's completely normal to have doubts, to be skeptical, to be human. I shouldn't be punished for that. I shouldn't be judged.

Another thing I'm having doubts in is where I want to live when I grow up. This might seem irrelevant, but to me it's really important. I don't know if I want to live in a quiet place with bamboo and birds chirping in my window where I'll be able to write and play music, or in a big contemporary appartment surrounded by city lights, nightlife buzzing and waiting for me with a mixed drink.

I don't know if I want to be a Dermatologist anymore. I've always wanted to be a musician. But what is the shelf life or one? Booking gig after gig in small restaurants and pubs, going to bed each night with the love of my life after singing my heart out to strangers... Struggling day after day, but doing what I love and do best? Or should I forget about dreams and stick with what's practical? An office, steady clients, a thesis to make, fancy cars, fancy home, making meals for my fancy husband?

What is the life that I want?
I don't know.

This world will still keep going 'round with or without us. Whatever happens, happens because it is meant to be, and there is no point in resisting.

Going with the flow, sitting back and relaxing, letting life take its course. Let's just hope it takes the right turns at the right times.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

That quote is basically saying that you're only beautiful if somebody thinks you are. Some beauty isn't "beholdable", and you are beautiful even if people don't think so. I behold my own beauty. Do you?

By Han Ghazi

I'm guilty in my mind,
'Cause I cant close my eyes
My spirit , can hear it

So let the music play,
The changes I can't make
To heal you, conceal you..

It's like we've walked a thousand miles
To make love with our eyes

'Cause tonight is not the night
I'm with somebody else and I can't lie
With me and you, it's never goodbye
Save the dance for another life...

I wish that I could tell you that tomorrow is all about you,
But the time to meet you is in another life.

So save the dance for another life...

Body Art

Art isn't shallow or meaningless.
Never get tattoos for aesthetic reasons, or copy them from someone else.
That is a shitty, shitty thing to do.