Forced inquiries
and pre-rehearsed phrases
politely perfume
the air that laughter dances through.
Mouths that mold into superfluous smiles
fill themselves with falsities and fancies.
This rehearsed repetition reeks of
pointlessness.
Forced inquiries
and pre-rehearsed phrases
politely perfume
the air that laughter dances through.
Mouths that mold into superfluous smiles
fill themselves with falsities and fancies.
This rehearsed repetition reeks of
pointlessness.
Or stage rehersals.
I see your point and share in it.
‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine thanks, and you?’
‘How’s the family?’
blah, blah, blah, blah…
So Kris you still complaining about life? Let me give this advise: life’s a bitch, so fuck it. Get me?
Pureasonist-Uniqor,
When you say “life’s a bitch, so fuck it.”, I don’t “get” you. Are you telling me to kill myself?
I am not necessarily complaining about life, but desperately trying to describe what ever is on my mind or heart, usually and lately-it has been despair and it has been quite depressing. But I don’t necessarily consider despair, especially such that is seriously contemplated, to be associated with complaints. -that’s just my take on it.
Kris I know your “take”, your poem says it all. This is my take, again:
What’s a bitch?
A fantasy lure,
Without a core,
In which lay,
Actual pleasure.
What’s a life?
A desire spur,
With sharp swirl,
On which shed,
Blood of wanting more.
What’s a bitch?
Life’s a bitch.
What’s a life?
Bitch’s a life.
Kristalyn,
It’s hard when the things that are “supposed” to be fun or make you happy just don’t, like the type of social event your describing. I’m sorry that you can’t find love or get along better with people. Part of the problem is that you’re afraid. Maybe you need to try some new things and meet some people you feel comfortable with.
I thought it was kind of funny that you jumped to the conclusion, or simply just made the comment that Pureasonist was implying that you should kill yourself. I didn’t get that at all, but that’s what makes it funny, because it’s totally something you would write. I don’t know- I’m just babbling.
Hope you feel better one of these days.
Yeah kris… What’s the stuff on your avarta anyway?
vortical,
Thanks for your response. I am afraid of so much. I wish I felt better too-but not all the way-then I would really hate myself .
I hope you are feeling better.
Pureasonist-Uniqor,
My avarta is a photo of a chalk pastel piece I did several months ago. The size of the work is about 3 1/2’ x 3 /12’ . The images in the piece are of abstract fertility figurines. There are also references to vessels and the moon in the piece as well.
Jesus, just relax a little man…
I like the chalk pastel- I didn’t know it was a pastel drawing that you had done. If you hadn’t responded I was going to make a joke and just say “Uniqor- they’re TITS!” But really I like it and would have only been being silly. I do chalk pastel drawings as well. I’ve been meaning to take pictures of them and scan them into the computer for months now to share them with my family and of course folks on ILP.
Kristalyn, you are lucky that you have no one- that you love from afar. When people know and see the “real you”, and that being the only glimpse there is in this world of who you are entirely. I’m rambling- but meaning that you share yourself- in it’s uncensored and perfect sincerity to find that it is flawed and rejected- that a mask is to be worn at all times. I mean is this “reality†at all or just the final chance for you to act out and just be without having to think? It becomes unfair to the other person and unfair to you. Suddenly your feelings and love cannot manifest in a piece of art, a poem, a letter- they hinge upon the love or unlove, closeness or distance of another person to whom you so desperately want to be honest to and want to love. Failing at this makes it easer for you not to care- to live and trust no one- deception becomes easy- because you have failed at honesty. Further derangement ensues- you don’t even know who you are anymore. Love is no longer about romance, but that being false anyway… unconditional love- false too… connection is an illusion. I feel like I’m waiting to die, but not just waiting- I’m doing whatever the hell I want. Is there even room to care? When you have nothing to lose? I can have nothing, so I am free.
Please don’t fear- it will undermine your love.
I should have never come here- I ruined a good thing. I wish I was you Kristalyn, so that I could just be words on a page.
I wish I was Pureasonist, so I’d have the perseverance to have responded to you in no more than three minutes. Hey- what the hell is a “uniqor†anyway?
You will never have to worry about feeling completely better- that’s impossible, so go on and feel better. You hate yourself a little already, everyone does that too. There is something that you’re good at, and people will know you by it- do what you need to do to be exactly who you are. Do everything you set out to do before you die and then just let it go.
Pureasonist-Uniqor,
I don’t really know how to relax. And I can’t relax or let go because I can’t make any serious mistakes, which I think would happen if I were to relax. I don’t have anyone to rely on, nor do I even think it is possible to rely on anyone-relying on yourself is hard enough.
vortical,
Well vortical, everyone here, at least to me, are only words.
I do too much and I usually succeed and excel at most of what I do. I have held positions in restaurants as a waitress, busser, hostess. I have worked as a Phonathon caller, Residential Assistant, tour guide, Women’s Studies’ Assistant, Computer Lab monitor, college newspaper reporter and editor. I have volunteered at numerous places and have and am a member of numerous clubs/organizations. I have even started a small club. I excel (although I do struggle) in my classes. --and people think they know me.
My name is shoved at them constantly and I despise myself of the increasing overuse of my name by others. But I cannot stop being me and so I greet people with a smile and continue on in my responsibilities. But I cannot connect with anyone or at least I don’t feel like I ever have or ever will be able to. I just always feel this separateness.
v, Uniqor (yo 'niker), means: a relatively unique individual, in terms of reasoning, unique because the reasoning is pure to a degree that a few can actually comprehend, hence also Pureasonist.
Kris, I think generally, you can rely on most people when they own you gratitude; when you give them something they want; when they see you as useful to them in whatever aspect. This is the way our society works; this is what binds people together; this is the basis of all peaceful acts - this is the ugly truth and bitchy situation, you just gota be “bad” enough to make yourself happy, and no point feeling guity for hurting people, because:
1 They all hurt you, all the time, often intentionally with full conscious;
2 It’s unavoidable in the first place, the saintest you can do is to minimise injouring others at your own expence.
If you can comprehend this piece of fantastic advise from pure reasoning instead of romantic reflection, then maybe you can start to relax, which is a nessessary step towards happiness.
Pureasonist-Uniqor,
Thanks for your response, but I have heard most of this advice numerous times. It doesn’t mean a thing in my reality.
I too have had way too many jobs, spanning the gamut of what one should have reasonably experienced in a short amount of time. I’ve worked three food service positions, Blockbuster Video, Kmart, Venture, in home elder care, day care, hotel front desk, numerous office positions- mostly in sales focusing on communication and correspondence (email and formal business letters)-EEK- dare you even scare me with the thought that you have done a temporary form of telemarketing (just had to throw that in- something I’m struggling with currently in my life- I’m quitting this job), and in school 3 years at the “media centerâ€, probably one of my favorite jobs- renting out AV equipment, projecting films, training other students on use of video cameras and editing equipment- it was fun and I felt good about what I did. I met a lot of people in school and I miss that- I miss being able to be myself, for as wonderful, creative and destructive I can be.
Kristalyn, it is hard and like a skilled acrobat you make the accomplishments seem effortless- no explanation would serve sufficient enough for people to understand how difficult it is at times. They see you as more than you see yourself. There is a disconnection between your internal and external self.
“But I cannot connect with anyone or at least I don’t feel like I ever have or ever will be able to. I just always feel this separateness.â€
If you are like me, which I suspect, then it is your willingness to seek connection that proves obvious the lack there of. By this I mean that you are open, to a certain degree when you want to be and do so desperately seek a profound connection to another, not many, only a select few or one. You sense that you feel things deeper than other people do, this could even be caused by what is defined as clinical “depressionâ€- there are solutions for this and medication will take away all of the feelings you have- I know from experience. Then you may even fear that if you do fall in love, as I have and then hit a point of emotional instability, that you may have to compromise love in the name of achieving acceptable societal functionality. Really none of it matters- I mean love matters, but the things that aught to matter in this life are never practical. Your favorite job will never pay well and so on… I mean if your aspiration is cardiology- it might, but then again how many of us are heart surgeons, rock stars, famous artists or writers? Ha… sigh.
You and I have a lot in common. I’m older than you aren’t I? I’m 27, and you’re??? I’m not saying you seem young, but I’ve pieced together your identity enough over the months with mention of being in school and so on.
Oh- and no, not everybody is just words.
Pureasonist is witty, Uniqor is unique but it still makes me think of unicorns. I’ve been dreaming of horses again lately- these dreams have always intrigued me. I rode a horse for the first time last summer- I felt at the complete mercy of the animal. I was afraid and navigating this huge animal alone the edges of rolling hills and constantly imagined being thrown and trampled. I was told that I should be mindful and take control of the horse before it controlled me. There’s that control issue again.
I feel compelled to apologize for writing so much- I do like talking with you though.
Your name- is it Kristalyn or a derivation of it? What is this about people using your name?
Thanks vortical. I will be able to go to sleep without feeling so isolated.
I will respond in detail later, but here are some responses.
I am younger than you. I’m 20.
Yes, that is becoming clearer and clearer.
I might or might not have depression-but I don’t think I could ever stomach any sort of medication.
And yes my real non-ILP name is Kristalyn.
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I’m 20 as well!!!
Thanks for writing back Kristalyn- I look forward to your elaboration… with all of the shit going on in my life, talking with you is comforting on a certain level.
Pureasonist- you should rest more… I don’t know what time it is where you are but you spend an aweful lot of time here on ILP. Lost that job that you had? What brought you back?
No, I haven’t. Actually, I’m trying to start another night shift. Well, a poor bookladen student like me hardly gets the preivilige of doing some real exciting stuff in the day. So this is kind of a substitude I suppose…
That’s good, been reading a lot of Nietzsche?
Everyday v, everyday. Neechey offers me much more than a book, a read, or a philosophical frame… I endeavour to make use of it everyday v, everyday.