the final word. promise.

(thanks to my girl Taryn for the myspace post :o)
LOVE or iNFATUATiON

Infatuation is instant desire-one set of glands calling to another.

Love is a friendship that has caught fire. It takes roots and grows, one day at a time.

Infatuation is marked by a feeling of insecurity. You are excited and eager but not genuinely happy. There are nagging doubts, unanswered questions, bits&pieces about your beloved that you would just as soon not examine too closely. It might spoil the dream.

Love is the quiet understanding of imperfection. It is real. You are warmed by her presence, even when he/she's away. You want them near, but near or far you know she is yours and you can wait.

Infatuation says,"We must get married right away, I can`t risk losing him/her."

Love says, "Be patient. He/She's yours." Plan your future with confidence.

Infatuation has an element of sexual excitement.

Love is the maturation of friendship. You must be friends before you can become lovers.

Infatuation lacks confidence. When he/she`s away you wonder if they're cheating.

Love means trust. You are calm, secure&unthreatened.

Infatuation might lead you to things you`ll regret later, but love never will.

Love lifts you up. It makes you a better person than you were before.

* * * * *

23 Reasons Why I Probably Belong in the Crazy House.

I miss hearing your voice, the playful baritone that perfectly matches your every facial expression.
I miss the banter, the easygoing back-and-forth and tit-for-tat and I miss the way you'd shake your head at me whenever you thought I wasn't looking.
I miss how I was always looking.
I miss our verbal headbutting, and how we would fight, but it wasn't really fighting, because it was always me taking shit out on you and you dealing with me and me still lashing out at you and you showing me humane patience by occasionally leaving me and me feeling just that much more empty because you were gone and you treating me like a queen still and me still loving you.
I miss recalling how we first met; were you scared of me, I asked, did you think we would ever make the next Homer and Marge, Fred and Ginger, George and Gracie, Lucy and Ricky, Harold and Maude, Regis and Kelly, Beyonce and Jay-Z; was I laughing at you instead of with you, you asked, did I ever think that we would ever make the next Tim and Susan, Barbara and Hugh, Tina and Ike, Hillary and Bill, Sonny and Cher, Zack and Kelly, Romeo and Juliet?
I miss completing each other's sentences, each other's thoughts, each other's laughs.
I miss the text message conversations and lengthy phone chats and random notes left.
I miss the ridiculousness of our shared innunendo. consequently, I miss how we denied everything up until the very end.
I miss leaning up against you, and how when I put my arm through yours you would take my hand.
I miss how whenever something terrible happened to me, you'd leave me with a parting pat on my back and somehow that would make everything right with the world.
I miss being able to tell you anything (with the exception of bullshit like this), and how you made me a better, more honest individual.
I miss figuring out what our children would look/be like.
I miss the comfort and safety of hanging out with you whenever we all went out as a big group. I miss having people look in our general direction because we were so at ease with one another.
I miss catching you checking me out in the side of my eye. I miss checking you out with the side of my eye.
I miss distracting you at the worst times, and they you distracted me all the time.
I miss getting to know the real you, which I was fortunate enough to occasionally get a glimpse of during our tenderest moments alone.
I miss how the most precious and fragile memories between us don't necessarily involve alcohol and/or huge mistakes that we'd eventually regret. but in the long run, do I really regret what I had with you? I'm not so sure anymore.
I miss seeing you mature and develop into your own adult self -- I miss telling myself how much I didn't want you because you were still at a stage that I'd far surpassed already, but I miss more figuring out that we're more likely right alongside one another in the journey, just on different paths.
I miss how we decided that what was between us wasn't that big of a deal, but whenever I would lay down to sleep at night, you were somehow always on my mind.
I miss praying for your security and direction in this life, and praying that somewhere in the grand scheme of things you had similar feelings for me too.
I miss 'the compulsory conversations' and how they would always end with us magically riding off into the sunset together and leaving all our problems behind us.
I miss never feeling residually angry, or resentful, or bitter, or otherwise negative towards you. I miss having that person in my life.
I miss being able to call you or text message you or e-mail you without feeling the way I do now.
but most importantly~
I miss you.

I love you I love you I love you.

these words are my own. -- natasha bedingfield

* * * * *

When We Two Parted

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.
The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow—It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.
They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me—
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:—
Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.
In secret we met—
In silence I grieve
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?—
With silence and tears.

-- Lord Byron

* * * * *

I Miss You

Where are you and I'm so sorry
I cannot sleep I cannot dream tonight
I need somebody and always
This sick strange darkness comes creeping on so haunting everytime
And as I stared I counted the webs from all the spiders
Catching things and eating their insides
Like indecision to call you
And hear your voice of treason
Will you come home and stop this pain tonight
Stop this pain tonight
Don't waste your time on me
You're already the voice inside my head
I miss you...

-- Blink 182

* * * * *

let your love be stronger than your hate or anger. -- h.g. wells

believe in it baby.

What is karma?

Cause and effect. Whatsoever a man soweth, that he shall also reap. For each action there is an equal and opposite reaction. There are a lot ways to describe karma, but it is essentially the belief that your present circumstances are the product of previous actions, and what you do today will affect what happens tomorrow. Karma is also associated with past lives -- each time you're reborn, the energies from your previous lives influence the conditions of your current life.

taken from astrology.com


* * * * *

Thursday, September 12, 2002 Dear Yahoo!:

What is karma?

Darija Clearwater, Florida

Dear Darija:

We meditated on this question for a little while, and then headed toward Yahoo!'s Hinduism and Buddhism categories. Once there, we found many sites willing to play guru and explain the doctrine of karma, a concept found in both religions. This Hindu primer sums up karma as the law of cause and effect. The principle is similar to that expressed by the Christian verse, "As ye sow, so shall ye reap." The word karma means action, and it's used as short-hand for the idea that every action you take causes a reaction in the future. Positive, caring actions will bring positive results back to you, whereas negative, hurtful actions will result in your suffering. Many people believe that both good and bad karma can return to you at any time, even after this lifetime. Hindus believe that the soul is immortal and is reborn in a new body after a person dies. Thus, you have an endless series of lives to work on your karma. In each life, you should strive to do good works and evolve spiritually so your next life will be better than this one. Hindus seek to eventually break free of the cycle of reincarnation and attain eternal bliss of the soul, called moksha. A god does not administer the law of karma. There is no cosmic judge who doles out punishments and rewards, although some suggest that there is a "cosmic accountant" who tracks each person's karma. Ultimately, each individual is responsible for his or her own actions and karma. Siddhartha Gautama, who became the Buddha and upon whose teachings all of Buddhism is based, was born into Hindu society and believed in the doctrine of karma. The Buddhist perspective on karma isn't very different than that of Hindus. Every action you take will have a repercussion in the future, and you have to live with the consequences of your actions. Most Buddhists believe in reincarnation, and their goal is to transcend constant birth and rebirth to achieve nirvana, similar to the Hindu moksha. Buddhism also places importance on the intent of one's actions. For example, if you accidentally step on a bug and kill it, you won't create bad karma. But if you purposefully kill it, you create bad karma. Likewise, if your actions unintentionally benefit others, you do not create good karma. Only when you mindfully do good, do you create good karma. * * * * * Karma's a Bitch "Your writing is like a sick addiction for me," someone once told me. A boy. I drank a lot and was mean to him. He stayed. I got him to agree to let me see other men while he had to remain faithful to me. He was loyal. He stayed. He loved me with an intensity I didn't understand so I didn't see it. I couldn't acknowledge or reciprocate that kind of love. I did a lot of heroin and fucked other guys. I remember being at a party with him and starting to feel queasy. I got him to let me use his car so that I could go downtown and score. I told him I'd meet him at home and that he would have to find a ride from someone. When I went into rehab for the 5th time -- that horrible county-run facility for people who have used up all their mental/chemical dependency coverage already; where they strip search you when they admit you and the nurse put on a plastic glove and saw me so terrified she couldn't go through with it -- he waited with me until they kicked him out, sitting next to me in a plastic chair holding my hand while thorazine zombies shuffled around us. When I came out of another hospital he waited for me with flowers. I broke up with him. He told someone "I had no idea it would hurt this much." taken from Allison, one of my newest inspirations and her journey