Saturday, October 31, 2009

22 Years of Reflection...

I turned 22 yesterday and I was hoping someone might be able to answer some of my questions.

For example, I spend nearly everyday of my life alone so why do you make a big deal about it on my birthday? Why is this the day you care?

If we have not talked in over year, probably since my last birthday when you posted happy birthday on my wall, why thy sudden interest in my life?

I guess my real question is this, are you really my friend?

The English language is vague in the way we use words. I am friends with Ande Thomas, whom I consider my best friend and I am friends with people on facebook whom I am not sure I have ten minute conversation before.

In Greek and Latin and almost every other language, the word friend is much more descriptive. The words they used for friend is best translated to lover.

I guess the real question is do you love me because I do not think you do and if you do, you suck at showing it.

Happy Birthday...

2 comments:

Ande said...

i think about all that a lot, actually.

Kraxpelax said...

SONNET XXXIX FOR KATIE

I went downtown, saw Katie in the nude
on Common Avenue, detracted soltitude
as it were, like a dream-state rosely hued,
like no one else could see her; DAMN! I phewed;

was reciprokelly then, thank heaven, viewed,
bestowed unique hard-on! but NOT eschewed,
contrair-ee-lee, she took a somewhat rude
'n readidy attude of Sex Prelude; it BREWED!

And for a start, i hiccuped "Hi!", imbued
with Moooood! She toodledooed: "How queued
your awe-full specie-ally-tee, Sir Lewd,
to prove (alas!), to have me finely screwed,

and hopef'lly afterwards beloved, wooed,
alive, huh? Don't you even DO it, Duu-uuude!"

My English Poetry Blog

N'est-que pas que la solitude elle-mème eveille quelque attente fébrile? Voici l'entrée, vide, discrètetement illuminée comme une musée nocturne – la terasse, avec ses torchères ondoyantes par un soir d'Avent étrangement doux – laissant le vestibule et les murmures de voix – la chambre immaculée immaculée et la musique de danse derrière le mur – et le bar à cocktails mondains – le bassin où le nageur s'entrâine, longeur après longeur, il en n'a jamais assez, il doit y mettre de sien – enfin, tournant vers le haut au coin du sombre couloir vient la fille noire et pâle, altière, déterminée et de style épuré, ainsi qu'un moderne avion de chasse suédois.

Poétudes

More...

Exit time. Las chicas dejan el espejo de bar
dormindose en sus corazónes de alta traícion.
El Señor no levanta. Él pastorea a sus pies
los presuntos compradores. Y nos bendice.

My spanish poetry blog

More...

Consider Sex and time, procreation, reincarnation. Trigonometry! I envisage the time axis as the repetitive tangens function. Do you see what I mean? What can be tentatively derived from this notion? Clue: orgasm AND birth pangs at tan 0.

My Philosophy

My Music Blog

My Babe Wallpapers

You are very welcome to promote your blog on mine. They are well frequented, so there's mutual benefit.

- Peter Ingestad, Sweden