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    poetry


    dotsJournal: Theoretical thodots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: In Love

    I have had quite a few things happen to me to make me change as a person. I've gone through quite a few trials where I had to make the toughest decisions I have ever made. I have found that I don't really believe in the word sin anymore. That is, I don't agree with the word and with the context it is used in. I mean, it couldn't have even been a word before the bible was authored. People believed in the gods and goddesses. They believed in the moon, their crops, the way the earth breathes. They worshipped the beautiful earth and all the things present but unseen. And Iam proud to call myself pagan, to awake every day and feel the power of the male presence, the sun, and his counterpart, the female moon. The god and the goddess: balance. I feel whole because I appreciate and worship the earth.

    ...Created 2007-01-23 19:14:56

    dotsJournal: Come homedots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Lonely

    Blue-eyed man,
    Come home to me
    I'm sicker than ever

    Lover
    Magician
    Poor Man
    Druggie
    Come home to mama
    I need to be drunk with you

    I yearn for your Lust...
    I cannot live
    Without
    You

    I killed us
    But I will search for you
    I swear

    I miss you
    I feel like I'm dying
    Bleeding
    Wilting
    Like a flower,
    Picked carelessly by some imbecile
    And left lying on the table.

    Your syllables stick tightly to my soul
    Your song is a spell
    Lulling me in and out of madness
    And melancholy

    I cannot find you
    I have to find you
    So I can rest
    Again

    ...Created 2006-05-02 19:19:05

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Overwhelmed

    He is the dream Prince
    His lovely grey eyes torture me
    I cannot bear with the burden of loving him
    He'll never belong to me again
    I cannot fathom why can't have him
    Please!
    Come back to me, my old friend!!!

    ...Created 2006-04-11 14:56:56

    dotsJournal: ooh...aahhh..dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    There's this little voice that I can hear
    I don't know who she is anymore
    I think she sometimes sounds like my mother
    And sometimes she sounds like my father
    Who is this little girl
    Falling at the feet of man?
    I cannot see her eyes anymore
    I think they've grown too hollow
    Her face is shrouded in smoke
    and
    Sometimes she cries...
    Tears of regret the color of whisky
    There's something wrong with the......

    Who is this terrible little fiend
    -------------------------------------------------------

    Cigarette smoke and unkempt hippie hair
    I met an insane man today
    He got out of his old, white van
    (A gray suit and ugly tie)
    I thought he was going in to rob the place
    But as we pulled over to the liquor store I saw him
    Get back into the van and drive away

    ...Created 2006-03-31 23:40:08

    dotsJournal: visitationdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Thinking...

    There seems to actually be a true visitation of energy. I am getting all of these strange vibes from every place I turn or look to. I can't quite explain it or even identify the root. I actually finally feel like my torture is going to pay off. Maybe suffering truly the downfall of being a good artist of any sort. I feel so inspired...so ready for a good summer...
    But I can feel it's all tinged in dread and some underlying sorrow to come.. I can always sense it. But maybe it's only because it's neverending.
    Well, enough for this journal entry.

    ...Created 2006-03-25 15:44:09

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Lonely

    I am listening to my launch.yahoo radio shit thing. There's this very sad sounding Cold song on there. I mean, I am feeling pretty melancholy, which seems to be the general and probably permanent state for me. I don't k now. I feel like posting. I feel so heartbroken. I feel so true to my Libra self. I never seek companionship... But leaving my boyfriend is working its evil on me...I feel so lonely. I want someone to hold me close, tightly...Someone from my dreams. I don't know. I think I will go search for my notebook to post something... Blah. Shit. Fuck. "I am made of pages, paragraphs, and inspirations...Paper girl"
    melancholy forever

    ...Created 2006-03-17 21:14:41

    dotsJournal: Where do I turndots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Sad

    Where does the little girl turn when all her thoughts have turned to mush: tears and lipstick, syllables and guitar riffs... I find myself lost in this same tragic place that I must have created for myself. I must have created it...All the shreds of loneliness and despair.I have secrets I cannot tell. What secret place do I whisper them to? What lost deity is waiting for my whimpers and whispers? There must be one somewehere...
    My truth is scattered, a riddle. I cannot tell anyone for certain what my truth is because I cannot seem to grab it, to hold it. Sometimes I imagine seeing it all objectively, outside of my puzzled head. I only want to see it as a whole, to perceive it without the foreboding sense of tragedy.

    I only want release.Again. Again. A quick release. I cannot get HELP because I can't tell the secrets inside. No one understands. They're so abstract that I can't even find them all. I have no more energy left to chase them...

    I find that sleep is my saviour: a place to dream, to see new possibiities. But I always wake up. I just want to sleep. Rest. Have someone take care of my tired soul. But souls cannot be patched or sewn. Can they? That's what confuses me. Because I'm so sure that my soul can be seen. I know others can see the wounds.
    I need the wounds to be seen.
    And now I have this thing growing inside of me. Like a tattered Dewey Dell. Like an abstract character from the strange mind of Faulkner.
    I think of all the times I have wanted to die. I guess that side of me is still there. It will never go away. Should I hide it, cover it up, dispose of it? I need a caretaker, a god of beautiful words, no lies, no loss, no pain.
    I feel this is THE END.

    ...Created 2006-02-07 17:58:04

    dotsJournal: bastardheadachedots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Head Aching


    I am confused by man's fatality,
    Man's finality
    It will cause my ruin
    I am slowly
    Ruined

    Rotten flower in the calm, smug breeze...

    Eat the light
    Drink the night

    ...Created 2005-10-20 12:26:14

    dotsJournal: sick and scareddots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Sad

    When the sick, sad servant is worn from the day and
    The spine is wearing like some musty discard,
    A tear lands on her soft, solemn cheek.
    It's a familiar burning splash.
    Will it ever go away?
    Death is here to stay.

    Crawling across the raveled carpet,
    Mind spinning in intoxication...
    Quick flashes of somber memories-
    Like celluloid and distortion, they all fade into
    One.

    The cloud she thought she had eluded has soared back and
    Like a bored and tired vulture, it will hover until
    Fed or
    Famished
    ...forever sharing frivolity with the rest.

    ...Created 2005-09-07 12:17:43

    dotsJournal: ahh....dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    Well..summer is here. No more long, cold, lonely nights. No more shivering in the dark. I have a crappy job at a diner. I have to put on the most absurd facade every single day I go to work. People are the most ridiculous creatures. Subject to sexual harassment. Constant comments about my red hair. Big deal. Misconceptions about red haired temper. They think I'm witchy. Well I am. But not their green Wicked Witch of the West. "More coffee, you female imbecile!" My boss is a bitch. I think she's going to fire me becuase their are too many waitresses and not enough hours. O well. I guess hooker is always a good profession to look into. The world is a giant itch. A leach, sucking the blood out of you.

    ...Created 2005-06-24 10:57:38

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

    Untitled - 8/2017 written by homeless
    Chèvrefeuille written by rev.jpfadeproof
    Would You... written by rev.jpfadeproof
    Fizzy Love written by rev.jpfadeproof
    Starry night written by rev.jpfadeproof
    Chapter written by Crestfallenman
    More written by homeless
    Dreamt written by rev.jpfadeproof
    Merge written by saartha
    Wisp of You written by rev.jpfadeproof
    I Believed written by homeless
    TSC written by rev.jpfadeproof
    Moon and Me written by rev.jpfadeproof
    'Cause You're Mine, I Walk the Line. written by Torie
    Tidal written by OneDarkFlame92
    Eyes written by homeless
    I Wonder If written by Wolfwatching
    Shading written by saartha
    Buried written by MyPeriodical
    Forgetting You written by rev.jpfadeproof
    Blank Page written by Chelebel
    Untitled: June 24, 2018 written by homeless
    No More Damn Love Poems written by rev.jpfadeproof
    Exult written by saartha
    The Forgotten Umbrella written by garnet4david
    Variety written by saartha
    Hazy Half-Moon written by rev.jpfadeproof
    The Phoenetians and Us written by Torie
    Jar (working title) written by rev.jpfadeproof
    Forget written by Crestfallenman

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    January 10 07
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