Empyrean
\em-py-REE-uhn; -PEER-ee-\ , noun;
Heaven; paradise, the sky.
You put your emotions on display
you're blue and happy,
white and opaque,
somber and gray.
Thank you for giving us something to
look up at,
when we can't see who we want to see.
----------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: Deepest Blue - Stacie Orrico
"The sun will always shine on you,
you turn my ocean deepest blue"
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Conspiracy
Side Note: This entire blog (and even the title) was made up out of song titles coming directly from my iPod. You have no idea how unbelievably difficult it was.
All I have...
All I wanted...
All myself to you.
All I have...
All I wanted...
All myself to you.
You
and I,
everything,
I can't give it up.
According to you...
"that girl,
last night,"
"stop,
I should have cheated."
Hands up,
"Too much,
can't believe it."
"Don't go..."
"Excuses.
Don't ask me to stay..."
"Don't say no, say yes!"
"Don't look at me."
"Try--"
"I refuse!
How you gonna tell me--?"
Contemplating.
Hesitation.
So emotional.
First love;
rejected.
"Fuck you!"
"I'll never let you go..."
"Shut up!"
"I only wanted...
I still love you!"
"I wish--"
"Show a little faith.
Stay with me."
"Maybe I won't look back...
Put your arms around me.
Say, 'goodbye.'"
...That's what you get
----------------------------------
No songs this time. I have enough music in the blog itself. Anyone recognize any of the names of the songs?
Me: According to Stacie Orrico
Side Note: I answered a series of questions in song titles, by ONE artist. Can you do that?
Gender: Babygirl
How would you describe yourself?: Genuine
How do you feel?: Don't look at me
Describe where you currently live: Don't ask me to stay
If you could go anywhere, where would you go?: Deepest Blue
Your favorite form of transportation: Bounce back
Your best friend is: Star of my story
You and your best friends are: Everything
What's the weather like?: So simple
Favorite time of day: Beautiful awakening
If your life was a TV show, what would it be called?: Tantrum
What is life to you?: I don't know
Your fear: Without love
What is the best advice you have to give?: Stay true
Thought for the Day: Dear friend
How I would like to die: ...I can't give it up
My soul's present condition: Take me away
My motto: (There's gotta be) more to life
---------------------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: Mr. Radio - Chrisette Michele
"Thank you for your love songs, Mr. Radio."
Gender: Babygirl
How would you describe yourself?: Genuine
How do you feel?: Don't look at me
Describe where you currently live: Don't ask me to stay
If you could go anywhere, where would you go?: Deepest Blue
Your favorite form of transportation: Bounce back
Your best friend is: Star of my story
You and your best friends are: Everything
What's the weather like?: So simple
Favorite time of day: Beautiful awakening
If your life was a TV show, what would it be called?: Tantrum
What is life to you?: I don't know
Your fear: Without love
What is the best advice you have to give?: Stay true
Thought for the Day: Dear friend
How I would like to die: ...I can't give it up
My soul's present condition: Take me away
My motto: (There's gotta be) more to life
---------------------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: Mr. Radio - Chrisette Michele
"Thank you for your love songs, Mr. Radio."
Unrequited Love
Your eyes are blue and that amazes me.
everywhere I go, I see dull and listless brown. That bores me.
Then again, it could be because my eyes are brown.
I ran into you the other day at the market.
I didn't think you knew I existed.
Our eyes met and we stood silent for many minutes before you told me.
"Your irises are brown and that amazes me.
Everywhere I go, I see a murky, dismal blue. That depresses me.
Then again, it could be because my eyes are blue."
I laughed and held your hand for many minutes.
Our eyes were blinded by things we couldn't see.
You thought I never knew you existed.
---------------------------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: 'Melt my Heart to Stone' - Adele
"And I hear your words that I made up.
You say my name like there could be an us.
I best tidy up my head, I'm the only one in love.
I'm the only one in love."
Indescribable
helfgskbfksdhfslfghgkjhdsjkfhksjdhfkjhskdjhfkhsdkjfhkjsbjmdb
dfksghdfjnothinggdiinyethisnvbSworldduyseigrbwek.rbnfg
kjdfcouldkjeexplainwior;uy7definenkjdbkjfhkjshd;fg/sldkf
kjedghrp87234riu234krjbwkjebfckjsdbkfjhskdhyiuyhiy97t668t
gwerytgiy3twhat287youhbearegsdfuygsdbhfksgbjgbfjsghdfjh
dhfiwget8rtgeuiytogbfhmesedghrfyheguyrfgjhsdggsdjfgjhsgdf
djfhlwsyegrlygejhfbjhdgfyuwegrfhaebdfjhvseyrfueygfbjadhgbfy
--------------------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: You - Jenniffer Kae
"Baby sometimes words get in the way.
They only mean one thing;
All said and done,
and then they're gone."
dfksghdfjnothinggdiinyethisnvbSworldduyseigrbwek.rbnfg
kjdfcouldkjeexplainwior;uy7definenkjdbkjfhkjshd;fg/sldkf
kjedghrp87234riu234krjbwkjebfckjsdbkfjhskdhyiuyhiy97t668t
gwerytgiy3twhat287youhbearegsdfuygsdbhfksgbjgbfjsghdfjh
dhfiwget8rtgeuiytogbfhmesedghrfyheguyrfgjhsdggsdjfgjhsgdf
djfhlwsyegrlygejhfbjhdgfyuwegrfhaebdfjhvseyrfueygfbjadhgbfy
--------------------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: You - Jenniffer Kae
"Baby sometimes words get in the way.
They only mean one thing;
All said and done,
and then they're gone."
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
B
i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm bored. i'm
B is for boredom
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: 'Longview' - Green Day
"I'm sick of all the same old shit
In a house with unlocked doors
And I'm f*cking lazy"
"I'm sick of all the same old shit
In a house with unlocked doors
And I'm f*cking lazy"
The Odd Couple
I was walking down the streets and the pavement. I looked up at the people walking toward me. I loved watching people. I made up imaginary stories in my head about them. I looked to my left and saw a man smoking.
'Wait,' I thought. 'Maybe he's a man-child. He doesn't look a day over seventeen.'
He picked up his lighter, cigarette, and started puffing away. I hated smokers. I couldn't stand the stench, the yellow teeth, and the 'cough.' It annoyed me like no tomorrow.
'It's cancer, you stupid bastard! Put it down!' I mentally berated him for his horrid habit. 'Eh, well.' I shrugged. 'Moving on...'
I looked up to my right and saw a couple holding hands. Now this wasn't your ordinary, every day couple. The differences between them were comical.
The man stood tall and lean with a bronzed complexion and dark, almost black hair. He wore a pin-striped business suit. 'Hmm. Not even the slightest wrinkle in the material,' I continued with my mental musings.
The woman, on the other hand, was petite and blond. Her complexion was extremely fair. I thought for a moment that I'd finally come face-to-face with the real-life version of Snow White. She wore hot pink velour track pants and tied up her hair in what I assumed was a poor resemblance of a bun.
They were as different as day and night. Hell, they were day and night. But, as I continued to observe the unlikely duo, I saw that they were very much the same. They still bore matching shit-eating grins and gave each other awestruck gazes, as if they couldn't believe one was standing right in front of the other one. They both snorted when they laughed and they both equally disgusted me.
I found it amusing because these people made up a living, breathing oxymoron. They were differently alike.
'Hmm, I wonder if that's even grammatically correct.'
Yet, the title fitted them. I rolled my eyes and walked away.
--------------------------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: 'My Same' - Adele
"You like to be so close, I like to be alone
I like to sit on chairs and you prefer the floor
Walking with each other, think we'll never match at all,
but we do"
'Wait,' I thought. 'Maybe he's a man-child. He doesn't look a day over seventeen.'
He picked up his lighter, cigarette, and started puffing away. I hated smokers. I couldn't stand the stench, the yellow teeth, and the 'cough.' It annoyed me like no tomorrow.
'It's cancer, you stupid bastard! Put it down!' I mentally berated him for his horrid habit. 'Eh, well.' I shrugged. 'Moving on...'
I looked up to my right and saw a couple holding hands. Now this wasn't your ordinary, every day couple. The differences between them were comical.
The man stood tall and lean with a bronzed complexion and dark, almost black hair. He wore a pin-striped business suit. 'Hmm. Not even the slightest wrinkle in the material,' I continued with my mental musings.
The woman, on the other hand, was petite and blond. Her complexion was extremely fair. I thought for a moment that I'd finally come face-to-face with the real-life version of Snow White. She wore hot pink velour track pants and tied up her hair in what I assumed was a poor resemblance of a bun.
They were as different as day and night. Hell, they were day and night. But, as I continued to observe the unlikely duo, I saw that they were very much the same. They still bore matching shit-eating grins and gave each other awestruck gazes, as if they couldn't believe one was standing right in front of the other one. They both snorted when they laughed and they both equally disgusted me.
I found it amusing because these people made up a living, breathing oxymoron. They were differently alike.
'Hmm, I wonder if that's even grammatically correct.'
Yet, the title fitted them. I rolled my eyes and walked away.
--------------------------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: 'My Same' - Adele
"You like to be so close, I like to be alone
I like to sit on chairs and you prefer the floor
Walking with each other, think we'll never match at all,
but we do"
Mad Hatter
Frustrated.
I'm so easily frustrated.
I could sit here and quite literally
tear my hair out at the madness in my life.
Nothing has to be so complicated.
It's funny, actually, how life is so simple!
I tend to see only black and white.
It's all there is!
I hear people talking of 'gray matter.'
What's that about?
There is no intertwining, no mixing,
no complicating, only simplifying.
Open your eyes and see this
dull world for what it is!
Straight forward!
Birds fly, fish swim, and
people exist solely to bring my life to hell.
You idiots! Morons!
Dimwitted wastes of energy!
Stop complaining!
Talking about such and such
being too hard to handle...
The only thing that's hard
is to follow through with
the right solution
to your meaningless problems.
See things the way I do.
Black and white.
Simple.
And life won't be
that bitch for you anymore.
I'm so easily frustrated.
I could sit here and quite literally
tear my hair out at the madness in my life.
Nothing has to be so complicated.
It's funny, actually, how life is so simple!
I tend to see only black and white.
It's all there is!
I hear people talking of 'gray matter.'
What's that about?
There is no intertwining, no mixing,
no complicating, only simplifying.
Open your eyes and see this
dull world for what it is!
Straight forward!
Birds fly, fish swim, and
people exist solely to bring my life to hell.
You idiots! Morons!
Dimwitted wastes of energy!
Stop complaining!
Talking about such and such
being too hard to handle...
The only thing that's hard
is to follow through with
the right solution
to your meaningless problems.
See things the way I do.
Black and white.
Simple.
And life won't be
that bitch for you anymore.
-------------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: So Simple - Stacie Orrico
"Take it down, down, down
And strip it to the core
I don't really need much less is more, more, more"
Side Note: Sorry if I offended anyone. I was just trying to channel an incredibly arrogant individual. I've also been trying to teach myself to be less 'complicated' and more 'simple'... because sometimes life really is just black and white.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Pyrrhic Victory
Pyrrhic victory
\PIR-ik\
noun;
1.A victory achieved at great or excessive cost; a ruinous victory.
Side Note: Another attempt at the male persona. However this time, I write in the perspective of (in my eyes) a hero. Also, this is mostly fictional. Be aware.
I stood across from her as the priest read a passage from the Bible, the one that my father had personally chosen for me. She was beautiful. From the first moment I saw her, I knew I would spend the rest of my life with this woman.
As ridiculous as it may sound, I fell in love at first sight. As luck would have it, she was as beautiful on the inside as well as the outside. She was smart, refined, and never missed an opportunity to engage in a friendly debate with me. I loved how she was able to maintain stimulating conversations with me as well as vigorous arguments.
She gave as good as she got... if that's how the saying goes. This woman was everything to me and I gave what I could in return. But she knew I belonged to another. I had already been betrothed.
My heart, my soul, my past and present, belonged to my country and its people. I loved seeing the blooming flowers, the lush, evergreen trees and the nipa huts scattered across the provinces. I loved seeing the smiling faces of the people I worked so hard to save.
My country was imprisoned; caged down like an animal. He claimed to make rules to maintain order in this society. Ha! He made rules to make sure no one could oppose him while he ran away like a child to throw away the hard-earned money he had acquired from the people.
Innocent men were put into prison and for what? Expressing their rights to speak differently? Having different points of view? New ideas? At the end of the day, I knew I would be joining them.
I, too, am imprisoned. I am an honest man and for that, I am enslaved. I love my country with everything that I am. I refuse, and I will continue to refuse until my dying breath, to let this chaos continue for any longer.
'You deserve to be free like the birds in the trees; happy like children playing in the street; and loved like a man and his family.'
I called her one last time before my early morning flight. We both knew what would happen. I would set foot on the island, I would take one breath of its sweet air and I would die. His people would see to it.
I apologized over and over. I had my obligation to fulfill. But I knew the damage I would leave behind. My wife would no longer have her husband and my children would lose their father.
I grieved all of last night. I cried like a newborn child in my bedroom. But my life meant nothing, if I could even make the slightest difference; if I could show the world 'the Filipino is worth dying for.'
It can be a funny coincidence. Bravery felt to me like numbness and denial. I couldn't feel my feet moving to the exit of the plane. Nothing moved in slow motion as it did in the cinema. The last thing I heard in this world were two gun shots.
I did not let out a single tear or cry of pain for my enemy. I only laid on the gravel of the runway and let the darkness overcome me. I prayed for victory. Victory for my people and for her.
Goodbye, I love you both.
Side Note: Ninoy Aquino has become one of my heroes. Unfortunately, I do not know much about the history of my country. There is a conspiracy theory regarding his murder. We have no absolute proof as to who had ordered his assassination, nor do we know whom was involved.
Although I have my own opinions concerning Marcos and he is the villain in this story (as well as the real life story of the Aquino family), I did not write this to cover the tragedy... I wrote this blog because I was inspired by his fight and his love for the Philippines. I chose this particular title because Ninoy gave everything he possibly could, with very few exceptions, to do what he believed was right for his country. He knew he would pay the ultimate price, his life, the moment he stepped off the plane and took his first and last breath of the Philippine air.
I am truly honored to share his story with you and I hope that I did it some justice.
Benigno Aquino Jr.
1932 - 1983
---------------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: 'Bayan Ko' - Lea Salonga
"Ibon mang may layang lumipad,
Kulungin mo ay umiiyak,
Bayan pa kayang sakdal dilag
Ang di magnasang makaalpas?
Pilipinas kong minumutya,
Pugad ng luha ko't dalita,
Aking adhika, makita kang sakdal laya..."
\PIR-ik\
noun;
1.A victory achieved at great or excessive cost; a ruinous victory.
Side Note: Another attempt at the male persona. However this time, I write in the perspective of (in my eyes) a hero. Also, this is mostly fictional. Be aware.
I stood across from her as the priest read a passage from the Bible, the one that my father had personally chosen for me. She was beautiful. From the first moment I saw her, I knew I would spend the rest of my life with this woman.
As ridiculous as it may sound, I fell in love at first sight. As luck would have it, she was as beautiful on the inside as well as the outside. She was smart, refined, and never missed an opportunity to engage in a friendly debate with me. I loved how she was able to maintain stimulating conversations with me as well as vigorous arguments.
She gave as good as she got... if that's how the saying goes. This woman was everything to me and I gave what I could in return. But she knew I belonged to another. I had already been betrothed.
My heart, my soul, my past and present, belonged to my country and its people. I loved seeing the blooming flowers, the lush, evergreen trees and the nipa huts scattered across the provinces. I loved seeing the smiling faces of the people I worked so hard to save.
My country was imprisoned; caged down like an animal. He claimed to make rules to maintain order in this society. Ha! He made rules to make sure no one could oppose him while he ran away like a child to throw away the hard-earned money he had acquired from the people.
Innocent men were put into prison and for what? Expressing their rights to speak differently? Having different points of view? New ideas? At the end of the day, I knew I would be joining them.
I, too, am imprisoned. I am an honest man and for that, I am enslaved. I love my country with everything that I am. I refuse, and I will continue to refuse until my dying breath, to let this chaos continue for any longer.
'You deserve to be free like the birds in the trees; happy like children playing in the street; and loved like a man and his family.'
I called her one last time before my early morning flight. We both knew what would happen. I would set foot on the island, I would take one breath of its sweet air and I would die. His people would see to it.
I apologized over and over. I had my obligation to fulfill. But I knew the damage I would leave behind. My wife would no longer have her husband and my children would lose their father.
I grieved all of last night. I cried like a newborn child in my bedroom. But my life meant nothing, if I could even make the slightest difference; if I could show the world 'the Filipino is worth dying for.'
It can be a funny coincidence. Bravery felt to me like numbness and denial. I couldn't feel my feet moving to the exit of the plane. Nothing moved in slow motion as it did in the cinema. The last thing I heard in this world were two gun shots.
I did not let out a single tear or cry of pain for my enemy. I only laid on the gravel of the runway and let the darkness overcome me. I prayed for victory. Victory for my people and for her.
Goodbye, I love you both.
Side Note: Ninoy Aquino has become one of my heroes. Unfortunately, I do not know much about the history of my country. There is a conspiracy theory regarding his murder. We have no absolute proof as to who had ordered his assassination, nor do we know whom was involved.
Although I have my own opinions concerning Marcos and he is the villain in this story (as well as the real life story of the Aquino family), I did not write this to cover the tragedy... I wrote this blog because I was inspired by his fight and his love for the Philippines. I chose this particular title because Ninoy gave everything he possibly could, with very few exceptions, to do what he believed was right for his country. He knew he would pay the ultimate price, his life, the moment he stepped off the plane and took his first and last breath of the Philippine air.
I am truly honored to share his story with you and I hope that I did it some justice.
Benigno Aquino Jr.
1932 - 1983
---------------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: 'Bayan Ko' - Lea Salonga
"Ibon mang may layang lumipad,
Kulungin mo ay umiiyak,
Bayan pa kayang sakdal dilag
Ang di magnasang makaalpas?
Pilipinas kong minumutya,
Pugad ng luha ko't dalita,
Aking adhika, makita kang sakdal laya..."
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Ease the pain and humble me now
Three puffs of smoke
Breathe in deeply
and let out a lazy smile
I'm relaxed.
Stand up and open the door
What? When? How long?
Didn't realize it was the there
Old rickety thing
It creaks - and darkness
Room fills with bubbles
Tiny bubbles, hundreds of tiny
and I feel fine...
Pop! They start pop, erupting
like crystal volcanoes
and all the colors they're filled with
overflow like lava
I feel happy.
Reds, blues, state of mind - purple
Reach up, want to lick it, consume it
These colors fill my head to my toes
and I want to eat it
Red, it's shiny
I'll lick you, my lollipop
Sweet and sour
Cotton candy blue
I sit on clouds
Start laughing and giggling like mad
Bounce on white puffs of you
Spin, can't stop spinning
Colors run with me
Twirls and they start mixing together
Mix it like a blender, I'll dance forever
Purple stops me in my tracks
Purple pooper. Ruin all my fun. Pout.
Take my hand, lead me far away
Can't see any of the other colors
It's only purple
Wanted me all for itself
All violet, fushia, garmenta
You're lovely. Your beauty enchants me, captivates me.
Let me lay with you for a while...
Push me out the door
Rickety thing slams my ass on the way out, hurt like a bitch
Fuck you, purple
Shit assed prick. Purple fucking shit pooper.
Killed my fucking soul!
------------------------------------------
Side Note: I purposefully mentioned two songs in this blog other than the one at the bottom of this entry. If you can spot those AND my pathetic play on the phrase "party pooper," then I'll give you a cookie.
Song that inspired this blog: Good Times (I get high) - Styles P.
"I get high 'cause fuck it
What's better to do?"
Breathe in deeply
and let out a lazy smile
I'm relaxed.
Stand up and open the door
What? When? How long?
Didn't realize it was the there
Old rickety thing
It creaks - and darkness
Room fills with bubbles
Tiny bubbles, hundreds of tiny
and I feel fine...
Pop! They start pop, erupting
like crystal volcanoes
and all the colors they're filled with
overflow like lava
I feel happy.
Reds, blues, state of mind - purple
Reach up, want to lick it, consume it
These colors fill my head to my toes
and I want to eat it
Red, it's shiny
I'll lick you, my lollipop
Sweet and sour
Cotton candy blue
I sit on clouds
Start laughing and giggling like mad
Bounce on white puffs of you
Spin, can't stop spinning
Colors run with me
Twirls and they start mixing together
Mix it like a blender, I'll dance forever
Purple stops me in my tracks
Purple pooper. Ruin all my fun. Pout.
Take my hand, lead me far away
Can't see any of the other colors
It's only purple
Wanted me all for itself
All violet, fushia, garmenta
You're lovely. Your beauty enchants me, captivates me.
Let me lay with you for a while...
Push me out the door
Rickety thing slams my ass on the way out, hurt like a bitch
Fuck you, purple
Shit assed prick. Purple fucking shit pooper.
Killed my fucking soul!
------------------------------------------
Side Note: I purposefully mentioned two songs in this blog other than the one at the bottom of this entry. If you can spot those AND my pathetic play on the phrase "party pooper," then I'll give you a cookie.
Song that inspired this blog: Good Times (I get high) - Styles P.
"I get high 'cause fuck it
What's better to do?"
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
School Daze
Tap, tap, tap
I hit my pencil on the desk
Thoughts crowd into my head
and I get irritated...
Tap, tap, tap
What did I forget?
Beginning to regret
leaving my books
10 miles southwest
of where I sit
Tap, tap, tap
I'm growing more bored
and start to ignore
the woman in my face
who started grilling me
when I walked in late
Tap, tap, tap
Wishing I could leave
Somewhere I ought to be
In my bed
and rest my head
Tap, tap, tap
Crap!
Heard a snap
What was that?
I'm still regretful
I broke my pencil
----------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: The Reeling - Passion Pit
"Look at me, oh look at me
Is this the way I've always been?"
I hit my pencil on the desk
Thoughts crowd into my head
and I get irritated...
Tap, tap, tap
What did I forget?
Beginning to regret
leaving my books
10 miles southwest
of where I sit
Tap, tap, tap
I'm growing more bored
and start to ignore
the woman in my face
who started grilling me
when I walked in late
Tap, tap, tap
Wishing I could leave
Somewhere I ought to be
In my bed
and rest my head
Tap, tap, tap
Crap!
Heard a snap
What was that?
I'm still regretful
I broke my pencil
----------------------------------------
Song that inspired this blog: The Reeling - Passion Pit
"Look at me, oh look at me
Is this the way I've always been?"
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Dyesebel
She wore bright red lipstick and curled her hair each night. High heels adorned her feet and only the finest silks touched her skin. As she walked the streets each night, men fell - by the dozen - at her mercy.
She didn't need to do much; just a casual glance or the flick of her wrist as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. She was truly and utterly beautiful, agonizingly so. That and the entire male population around here were utter morons.
Exposing inch after inch of skin lead to more and more idiocy. She attracted anyone and everyone; tall men, short men, fat men, skinny men, old men, young men, single men, married men... and some women. There had been a rumor once that she had even lured a clergyman into her web. Clever old witch.
She was a monster, devouring her victims like an animal and casting them off, leaving them in her wake. They were left, mouths and eyes hung open, in a stuporous state; pathetic nothings.
I was smarter. I was stronger. I was much more capable of overcoming this whore. She was just a woman, afterall. I've seen my fair share of women, everyone of them beautiful in their own way. What was so special with this one? It's not as if I've never seen a pair of breasts before. Whoop-dee-doo.
I'd never allow myself to fall prey to such a vixen. I'd just turn her right around, if she so happens to knock upon my door...
*Knock, knock*
I quirked my eyebrow at my door. 'Speak of the devil...'
I opened the door to see her in front of me. '...And the devil shall appear.'
Before I could open my mouth to speak, she lifted her dainty hand and covered my lips. She looked up at me with her big, brown doe eyes and pouted.
It was almost as if I had never seen her before. She had honey brown hair, with specks of sunlight and gold. Her lips were more full than I'd realized, beggin to be kissed and bitten. Her skin was smooth and caramel, I wanted to run my hands all over and memorize its texture. Looking into her eyes did me in. It felt like I was burning slowly from the inside out. Flames tingled within me in the sweetest and most sinful way possible.
She was absolutely gorgeous and I wanted her. I found myself breathless and enamored.
'Fuck. Me.'
I was screwed. But since I was already going to hell...
-----------------------------------------------------
Side Note: Special day for me. This is my first male POV. I've had to do a lot of research into the male psyche. I'm not pleased with what I've found.
Also, if you're wondering about the title, it's a play on the actual biblical character 'Jezebel,' for whom I'm basing this blog about. You wanted different, I'm going for scandalous! =)
Song that inspired this blog: 'Wikked Lil Grrrls' - Esthero
"You think you're my one and only, only?
Sophisticated Yoni told me,
'You gots to love livin' while you're living or you won't love life'"
She didn't need to do much; just a casual glance or the flick of her wrist as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. She was truly and utterly beautiful, agonizingly so. That and the entire male population around here were utter morons.
Exposing inch after inch of skin lead to more and more idiocy. She attracted anyone and everyone; tall men, short men, fat men, skinny men, old men, young men, single men, married men... and some women. There had been a rumor once that she had even lured a clergyman into her web. Clever old witch.
She was a monster, devouring her victims like an animal and casting them off, leaving them in her wake. They were left, mouths and eyes hung open, in a stuporous state; pathetic nothings.
I was smarter. I was stronger. I was much more capable of overcoming this whore. She was just a woman, afterall. I've seen my fair share of women, everyone of them beautiful in their own way. What was so special with this one? It's not as if I've never seen a pair of breasts before. Whoop-dee-doo.
I'd never allow myself to fall prey to such a vixen. I'd just turn her right around, if she so happens to knock upon my door...
*Knock, knock*
I quirked my eyebrow at my door. 'Speak of the devil...'
I opened the door to see her in front of me. '...And the devil shall appear.'
Before I could open my mouth to speak, she lifted her dainty hand and covered my lips. She looked up at me with her big, brown doe eyes and pouted.
It was almost as if I had never seen her before. She had honey brown hair, with specks of sunlight and gold. Her lips were more full than I'd realized, beggin to be kissed and bitten. Her skin was smooth and caramel, I wanted to run my hands all over and memorize its texture. Looking into her eyes did me in. It felt like I was burning slowly from the inside out. Flames tingled within me in the sweetest and most sinful way possible.
She was absolutely gorgeous and I wanted her. I found myself breathless and enamored.
'Fuck. Me.'
I was screwed. But since I was already going to hell...
-----------------------------------------------------
Side Note: Special day for me. This is my first male POV. I've had to do a lot of research into the male psyche. I'm not pleased with what I've found.
Also, if you're wondering about the title, it's a play on the actual biblical character 'Jezebel,' for whom I'm basing this blog about. You wanted different, I'm going for scandalous! =)
Song that inspired this blog: 'Wikked Lil Grrrls' - Esthero
"You think you're my one and only, only?
Sophisticated Yoni told me,
'You gots to love livin' while you're living or you won't love life'"
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