~*The Sisterhood [Part 3]*~

Hello! I'm sorry for the lack of me :) Well, but I'm here now and bringing you the next chapter of The Sisterhood. What will I think of next? I know that the popular votes (Yanas) are all for global castration. I couldn't agree more! LOL :D~
Hope everyone is fine & as contagious Sam would say, peace & happiness :)
***
I wanted my wife to have a beautiful funeral. A priest, music, stuff like that. Oh, and I also asked the agency to dress up kids as angels and make them sing some songs. Not necessarily sad songs; I have read somewhere that in some countries funerals are celebrations. People celebrate: eat, drink, and dance because one more soul has reached Eden. Or paradise. Or heaven. Call it as you may. My wife was a big fan of Marilyn Monroe and all those love songs. So I decided why not sing some of Marilyn's songs? At least one.

Next week my wife will be in Eden. I was kind of getting used to the idea that my Ana was not here and I actually was looking forward to the fact that my wife won't be here anymore. I was talking to her from time to time. Like: 'This will make an excellent addition to this case, ain't I right, hun?' Well, yes, I actually liked the idea that her soul shall rest in peace. At last.
I remember that day. Her skin was so white, bloody red lips and a black dress. She's soulless. She's dead.
It was raining and the priest was singing along with the little angels. Poor kids, they all will have colds after this funeral.
I don't know why but everyone was standing without umbrellas except me. And her. I saw her. How could she come to my wife's funeral? How did she know that my wife had died? No newspapers could have written that. No people could have said that. My wife wasn't a celebrity, I wasn't a celebrity. How could that bitch know?
I came closer to her and grabbed her hair.
'Nice to meet you, Ana. If you are Ana, that is.'
'Let me go!'
'Why are you here?'
'It's a funeral!'
'Oh, you noticed? I don't see you dressed in black.'
'Stop it for crying out loud. People are looking at us. You don't want them to think that you have a romance with me.'
I let her go.
'Thank you darling. Now what was it you wanted to ask me?', Ana said in a sweet way and smiled.
'If you don't tell me why you are here I will beat the shit out of you.'
'Since when are you rude?'
'Since now.'
'Very well. I knew Ana. I know everyone in this cozy little city. You haven't noticed? I even know you and your father. I know your mother. I know your date of birth. How banal.'
She took a cigarette and lit it.
'A beautiful funeral. She deserves it', she said and looked at me.
I looked back at her. I was surprisingly calm. She smiled at me and I looked at her neck. She was very young. You can tell a woman's age by looking at her neck. Faces lie because make up can hide flaws. I also noticed something little and strange on her neck. It was like a little tattoo or a symbol. It looked very familiar to me for some reason. Not that I have ever seen it. I wasn't sure.
'What's on your neck, Ana?', I asked,' Are you really Ana?'
'Yeah. Ana. I'm Ana.'
'So? What's on your neck, Ana?'
'Nothing. It's something that one of my patients has left me.'
'Patients?'
'Yeah, patients like you.'
'I thought I was your client.'
'No. Clients come when they are fine and are willing to have some fun. You are a patient. I saw your sad eyes that day. I mean night.'
I stayed silent. People were watching me and Ana. They were talking about us, I was sure. Stuff like he found his new Ana. People are disgusting.
I went away from her. I went away from them all. I left in the middle of the funeral because I couldn't bear seeing their restless eyes on me. All eyes were on me.
I was walking through one old street and I hardly could see my way through those colossal rain drops.
Suddenly I felt a cold hand on me. I was frightened. I shook and turned around.
'Stay away from her. Stay away from that woman!'
'Who are you?'
'No matter. Stay away from that woman or you will be in grave danger!'
It was an old man. He looked nervous because he was looking in different directions. Left, my face, right. Left again and right. He was wearing a dark cover and I could barely see his face. He looked almost like a monk to me. Maybe he was a monk. Whoever he was, he hurried back to where he came from. He vanished right in front of my eyes, leaving me breathless and frightened. I was standing there in the rain like a brick wall.
'Christopher?'
I turned around to see who that was. I made a squeaking sound I have never thought I'd be able to make. I felt a wave of weakness coming over me.
'Chris, you look like you've seen a ghost. What's wrong with you? I thought you were at your wife's funeral.'
'Mike?', I opened my mouth feeling quite relieved.
'Well, yeah. Who did you expect?', Mike asked.
'Sorry. Just some old timer frightened me. I was at the funeral. I couldn't bear being there. I am a coward.'
'I understand you, mate. I wasn't around my Elizabeth's funeral either.'
'Yeah. It's raining hard, ain't it?'
'Sure is. You'd better go home. You had a bad day.'
'I think I will, Mike. That was my intension in the first place.'
I left Mike. I was walking along that street with a feeling that I was being watched. I think I was right. That monk-kinda-thing was afraid of Mike. He saw Mike coming and hid. Maybe he was a fugitive? What did he want from me then?
The next morning I woke up feeling badly because of my sleepless night. I wasn't sleeping well; I was thinking what has my life become without Ana, my precious wife. I wonder if Mike ever felt the same. He'd never tell. Did he have feelings inside that heart of steel?
I ate breakfast whilst watching the news. Nothing new: politicians are getting stacks of money, celebrities making up new religions. The old yap yap.
I was just about to finish my coffee when I heard a knock on the door and some steps. Someone was in a hurry. So was I. I wanted to see who that was. But I didn't make it. Whoever it was, he's gone now.
'What the...'
There was a letter. I opened the envelope and took a note out of it.
'Christopher...
Please meet me at the local cafe tonight, called Salvador's.
8 PM, tonight.
This is very important. I think I know why your wife died.
Christopher if you care, you have to come.
PS. don't let anyone follow you. I will wear a wig.
I think you will recognize me.
Yours faithfully,
Ana'
I couldn't believe it. She knew the murderer's name? Should I tell Mike? No. I should certainly not. I am a man after all. I will come alone.

'Christopher if you care, you have to come.'

I care. Of course, I care.

~*The Sisterhood [Part 2]*~

***
'Holy fucking shit... Who could have done this?'
'I don't know Mike.'
'Christopher, yes I am a cop. But throughout the years there was no such thing as murder in our town. With a knife.'
'Mike'
'I am serious.'
'Mike'
'I'll take photos of this. This has got to be seen.' A young woman-journalist said.
'Mike, damn you, take her away. That's my wife there on the floor. See her? Look at her eyes! You see them madam? You see that?'
'Christopher, calm down. She's going, she's going. See? She's gone.'
'Thank you, Lord.'
'Why don't you want people to know this, Chris?'
I looked at him like I was ready to tear his eyes out. And I really was ready. Mike was my best friend. He also was a police officer. He loved his job. He also was my wife's first boyfriend. My wife had loads of boyfriends because she was amazingly beautiful; no wonder ol' Mikey fell for her. No wonder I fell for her. I was also the lucky one because I was her last boyfriend and her only husband. We've lived together for three years. Of course, we had those minor arguments, everyone does. But that day she was furious. She was wild. I was just afraid of her. So I ran away to another woman. Wouldn't you do the same?
No.
No, you wouldn't. Because you are not a coward as me.
Yes.
Yes you would. Because you are a sleazy mother fucker as me.
I looked at my dead wife again. She was beautiful. She always looked good. But now she's dead. Not alive. Not with me. I am alone. I am so alone. It's just me, my shadows, my home, my hand, my body, my words, my voice, my pain, my hatred, my table, my bed, my pillow and my cover. Ana never liked sharing covers. Well now she doesn't have to have one. Just because it's all mine. And I am so alone. I am hideous without her.
'Chris? Do you hear me?'
I am hideous without her.
'Chris? Are you ok?'
I am hideous without her.
'Chris, for God's sake, answer me!'
I am hideous without her.
'Chris!'
'I am hideous without her! Do you hear me Mike? I am hideous without her! Look at me! I said look at me!' I fell down and hid my face. I indeed was hideous.
'Chris, stand up.'
'No'
'Christopher. Stand up for Ana.'
'For Ana?'
'Yeah. For Ana. Let me help you.'
'I love Ana. Will she come with me? Let me help her.' I went nearer my wife's body.
'Ana! Stop playing already, honey. Let's go. I will make you your favorite Latte. I remember - no sugar. Oh stand up, Ana. Annie, come on.'
'Chris, she's dead.'
'Oh, she's just playing. Annie, I love you. Annie! I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. Annie!'

'Chris, will you be a man and look at her dead body? She's dead. She's not alive! Chris, pull yourself together!'
'Am I crazy? Am I crazy, Mike? I am insane. Yeah?'
'You are not. Let's go to the kitchen, I'll make you a cup of tea. Come on.'
He pulled me away from Ana's body. We went to the kitchen. I sat down and drank my tea. It was bitter. Yeah, everything was bitter at that moment.
'Why don't you want the world to know about Ana's death?'
'Why don't you put an obscene sex scene into "Tom & Jerry"?'
Mike looked away. I stopped controlling my thoughts and thought out loud. It was disturbing him. I felt it. He was concerned about me and my mental health, obviously.
'Chris... 3 more women died the same way yesterday. The interval between the death of your wife and Simon Wilson's is about 15 minutes. The second interval is also 15 minutes. And the third is 16 minutes.'
'We're dealing with a fast guy. Huh?'
'We sure are. All of the bodies are now experimented on. All three husbands allowed it. They want to know the killer. I was just wondering...'
'Take the body, Mike. We both know that you don't need my permission. You just let me know.'
'If you put it that way... Yeah, you are probably right.'
'I want to know the killer, Mike. I want to know his name. I want to know ways how to curse him, Mike. You hear me?'
'I hear you, Chris. I hear you. Me too.'
I felt his great and positive energy coming towards me. I've been acting very selfishly. I decided to change that.
'How is your wife, Mike?'
'Elizabeth...'
'You have a lot of wives?', I chuckled a bit,'Of course, Elizabeth!' I even smiled a bit.
'She was the third victim. The last one.'
I looked at him. I saw a real man; unlike me, crying like a girl. He was so strong. He was an idol of the moment. He was THE MAN. Not me. I spent the night with a whore and my wife had been murdered. I am a shitty bastard.
'Where were you? How come you didn't protect her?'
'I hate myself for what I have done. I know that you're certainly no priest but can u listen to my confession?'
'You should definitely speak up.'
'We had an argument with Elizabeth. And I went out. I saw a girl... Well, you know, a bitch. And I... I was so angry. I was desperate. I was a piece of shit. And I am a piece of shit until now.'
'I see.'
I didn't tell him that I also was a piece of shit. I didn't have the guts to do it. That situation made me wonder...
'What was her name?' I asked.
'Who's?'
'The girl's?'
'You're laughing at me, Chris?'
I kept silent. What was the difference anyway? Why did I ask that?
I watched him writing a note in his notebook. He was writing fast. He was in a hurry. He took his police jacket. And was just about to leave my kitchen, suddenly he stopped. He didn't turn back.
'She was also Elizabeth.'
With these words he went away, leaving me all alone, shocked and inspired by his manhood. I was nothing compared to him and I knew it. I didn't even see a tear in his eye. Not even a little clue of him being sad. He was at work. An excellent officer.
***
Mike entered the police car. He was thinking about Elizabeth and the banality of her death as he started crying. He took his gun and pointed it towards his head. This was the end. He looked at his reflection in the mirror right in front of him.
'You are pathetic, Mike' he told himself.
He put his gun away. Then he reached out for some more calming pills. They really helped if you took them in large amounts.

Placebo - In The Cold Light Of The Morning
'We're so... We're so... We're so.... We're so alone.'

*~The Sisterhood [Part 1]~*

As I said before, I'm working(working?) on my new massive project, called The Sisterhood. It wont be only one post, cuz it's gonna be a large seed which will unwind into a colossal/prodigious fruit. (I hope so)
This is just Chapter 1. But... I've got the whole thing in my mind. Anyway...
...
What do you think shall happen next?
Boo!

I was watching how her bare white skin touched my chest. She was so young but so wanted. Not only by me, by other men also. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, she was slim. And so young, as I said before. I know that I am not a perfect kind of guy and she can never be mine, but at this moment I just wanted to hurt her ideal skin, just to leave a mark. That she was mine. At least a couple of times. I wanted to get out of bed where we'd lain and get a knife. I wanted to cut her skin. I wanted to leave my initial. But her warm embrace would never let me. I could only touch her face. I could only touch her skin. I could not hurt it. Could not.
'Christopher?'
'Yeah?'
'Do you believe in God?'
I didn't understand why she has just asked this question. I turned away from her, looked at the crucifix that was hanging on the wall and I closed my eyes.
'I don't know'
Then I kept silent again. I could not place God in my life. He was something so distant, so perfect. So far away from me. Well, who was I? I was a guy who has just paid a prostitute to stay for the night because I had an argument with my wife. We shouted at each other like wild animals. And so I took my stuff and went out to have a drink or two... Or three. I didn't even lock the door. I left it open while she closed the door to her room. What the fuck, I thought. And I ended up here. Yet she asks me at this here moment, do I believe in God? Who the fuck is God? He is something I unconsciously believe in.
'Yeah. I believe in God', I replied.
She also turned away from my body, leaving me alone, without her warm embrace. I heard her taking a deep breath. Then she stood up to have a drink of water. First, she put my t-shirt on, and then step by step she went into the bathroom. I heard water running there. Then she turned it off. She came back and sat next to me.
'Watching me, Tiger?'
'Is there any other person to watch in this joint?
'Guess not. Did you enjoy yourself?', she asked and smiled at me as her hair fell down on my body.
'Sure', I smiled, 'Hope to repeat it soon!'
She bit her lips and went near the window and looked.
'Could you only imagine how powerful the world would be if every president in every country would be a woman? Just imagine!'
'No, thanks. A woman is a beautiful creature who is meant to be loved. And well, looking pretty is enough.'
She smiled at me and lit her cigarette.
'You're just afraid.'
'Of a tiny little girl?'
'Of a woman with a brain.'
'Nah. A woman with a brain is dangerous. But harmless. Girls are adorable yet harmless creatures.'
'Just imagine, Christopher. What laws would flow all over the world. If you touch a woman and she wouldn't like it. They'd castrate you.'
She started laughing. I acted like I didn't hear her comment.
'And loads of women could be priests. I always wanted to say "The Body of Christ" and hear a reply "Amen". And I always wanted to hear confessions and teach people... And tell them their mistakes. But I never wanted to be a nun. How banal is it. Or... I wanted to be a driver.'
'You can be a driver.'
'An age ago I wouldn't be able.'
'True'
I felt unsure. I wanted to ask her real name.
'What's your name? The real one?'
'Which one do you like?'
Now I realized. I spent the night with a bitch. Only the bitch who has done this wasn't her; it was me. Only now I started to think about my wife. My Ana.
'My name is Ana. Good bye Christopher. Hope to see you soon.' She smiled and took the money. She also took yet another cigarette and lit it. She went out smoking. Ana. Ana? Ana!
I put my clothes on, washed my face; I tried to smile at myself whilst looking into the mirror.
'It's going to be swell, old chump', I said hating myself for what I have done,' Ana will never know. Never.'
I got into my car, put on some jazz. Something classic. Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, stuff like that.
'Damn good' I said to myself. I even smiled. How banal of me to smile if I just fucked a bitch while my wife was at home crying, 'Her fucking fault', I said to myself, ensured that everything's ok. I'm the man.
I parked the car as I usually did and saw that the lights were on and I even heard the TV on.
'She's fine.' I thought
I opened our front door which was suspiciously unlocked and went into my home. I went into the dinning room; the lights were on, very weird. I turned them off.
'Little Ana is afraid of the dark?' I thought aloud.
'Come out, come out where ever you are' I heard a giggle and some voices.
Pretty lady is already with her friend and waiting for me to kick my ass with a frying pan. Not this time. Damn. Let me make a serious face, I was opening the door to her room silently and slowly while rehearsing my speech,' Ana, if it continues this way, me and you shall not be together. I lo... I lo... I... Ana? Ana! Aanaaa...'
This was a site I'd never forget. These kinds of sites haunt people eternally. My wife was lying on the floor besides a puddle of blood and in approximately 3 meters from her, a huge knife was lying. My jaw just opened and I wasn't able to speak up. Murder? Someone has murdered my wife. Step by step, I was walking backwards until I stumbled on to a wall. I slid down. My hands started to shake and I started to make unidentified sounds. I cried, I swore, I cursed, I hit the walls with my hands until they were bleeding.
'What have I done... What have I done...' I tried to say but it sounded more like: 'Wha ve aa d'n'eee.' Something a 1 year old baby is trying to say. I was constantly looking at Ana, who'd lain there with no movement. I crawled closer to her and started hitting her. No reaction. I started shouting and crying. Someone has just murdered my wife while I was screwing around. Someone has murdered my wife. I wasn't there to protect her.
'What do I exist for?' I screamed like somebody has been cutting a hole through me; it sounded awful, even I, myself, got frightened of my own voice, I had no idea how hideous I looked with no Ana. I looked at her vanity mirror. I shouted and broke it. Now my hand was bleeding badly. I slid down holding on to the wall again and just sat there. Just sat there swaying a bit like a Jew while he's praying. I started laughing silently.
It was only me, my wife's body and the knife. The TV was also on. She was watching cartoons before she died. This explains the giggling and talking that I heard before I saw her dead.
I started touching my teeth with my tongue and found it quite fun. I did that for some minutes and started biting my tongue softly. I pretended it was chewing gum. Then I sat there opening my jaw, closing my jaw. Then I imagined ways how I would kill the little cocksucker. I'd cut him in pieces, I'd inject viruses into his blood, I'd cut his throat. Yeah, goddamn it, I was a hero in my own imagination. Also, in my imagination, if I killed the murderer, Ana would come to life and then we'd kiss. We'd kiss for a long time.
...She's dead.....
I suddenly snapped out of it all, realized what I was doing, and stood up. I went to the kitchen to get the phone to call the police. (It took me quite long to realize that, obviously.) Also took some calming pills as I waited for the police's arrival.

[]...Doodlin' Around ;D~...[]

Well...
As I promised my Juicy Mangue, I'm posting my doodle :D
It wasnt originally designed like that, she was naked :P
But my personal & favourite censorer, Yorkie, censored it & I drew some clothes. How thoughtful am I :P
I have a maaaaaaassive idea for a new story. Its going to be huuuuuuuge. lol :D I've started working on it but havent finished it yet :) But I really hope, u guys would like it :D

John & Vangelis - Friends Of Mr Cairo (Shiiiiiit, all those Hollywood Gangster Movies, Looove them :))

More on THE EDYTAS ;D~

A crime has happened. I was walking along the empty street when *crash* I was tagged by Sam. He's still out there, somewhere. Careful. lol :D
Anywayz, the rules r to tell u 6 of my dirrrrrrtiest secrets. (not) You wish! I just have to say 6 weird things abt my mental self :)

1. Speaking abt the moon. When I see a full moon, I always think abt the mental hospital. YES. Mental Hospital. I always think that the patients there become too hyper & lush. Weird.
2. Ever since I was little, I liked drawing girls. I cant draw a normal flower or a simple heart. Well maybe I can but this doesn't bring me satisfaction. Drawing girls is loads of fun for me. Dressed or naked, alive or dead. (Dirrrrrty)
3. I think that the most beautiful woman in the universe is my mum. She's soooo cute :D (but hey, this wasnt weird, whatever :))
4. Before buying something I always have the 'did-i-bring-money-with-me' syndrome. And ppl are afraid going shopping with me. It's like torture. Boo.
5. I have the tendency to make everyone feel bad if i feel bad. Everyone keeps silent when I feel bad. Shiiit. I'm dangerous.
6. I always get sick on schedule. Fall: Most likely October/November, Winter/Spring: The end of Febrauary/March (that's one) The end of April/May. This year I'm sick right on time. lol
Speaking of diseases.

Doctor Unheimlich has diagnosed me with Edyta's Lurgy
Cause:	mosquito bite
Symptoms:	loss of weight, shouting, cranial bloating
Cure:	bleach
http://www.thesurrealist.co.uk/disease.cgi

& here's a picture of me & my mum, whom I really miss at the moment.

6 ppl to tag? Hmm.. Well most of the ppl are tagged already but luckily for me Tsar isn't tagged :P Also, If MAJ would like to do it, so plz, be my guests. The rules r simple, 6 weird things abt u. (or dirrrty things) :D

Phill Collins - Another Day In Paradise (Manguess? Yes, I also like Philsss.)
Pink Floyd - Comfortably Numb (Geniuses. Pure geniuses.)
How revealing this post was. lol :D

Poets

Poets
Your poets are writing love songs
Your readers are reading and crying
Your poets are writing about themselves
Your readers think your poems are about everyone else
Your poets don't give a shit about you
Your readers have illusions of poetic care
Your poets keep dwelling on their pain
Your readers see allusions to something else
Both groups are thinking about themselves.
Egoistic bastards.

My poets are using realism and reality
My readers are rising above neutrality
My poets are touching global issues
My readers are on a world repairing mission
My poets despise and ignore love
My readers take care of their feelings well enough
My poets don't read your poets' poems
My readers laugh at the tears of your readers
My poets hate your poets
My poets are better that your poets
Not that I have any.
Any poets, that is.
I prefer to stand alone.
As a poet, that is.

A little comment here. I've been on a poetic meeting just the other day. They commented on my poem as, 'Why don't u write about love?'
I deeply feel at the moment that i am not able to write about love. The reason is that I do not really see the point & i dont see any new thoughts, that I'd be glad to bring. And... what the fuck? I write what I want and when I want and about what I want. Don't like it, don't read it. And maybe that's the exact reason why u r still in the romantism epoche/age and can't get out of it. Not that I mean to be rude. But hey, frankly, I don't care. Sue me.

Throwdown - Forever (Thanx Yorkie, muahz)
Orbital - Lost

=[The Mother]=

I'm warning u. I scared the shit outta myself whilst writting this. The fact which scared me wasn't the plot of the story. It was scary cuz I've come up with sucha thing. Damn. Credits to : Wiktor. It was his idea to name the woman Suzie. :D

The Mother
She had an old face. Good old Suzie. A woman who has been working in the farm through out her whole life. You've never heard her complain. Her husband was also quite ordinary, nothing special, how could she fall in love with him, anyway.
'He is a piece of God', she used to say.
They had two kids, a son and a beautiful daughter. Their son graduated and gone off studying abroad, leaving them alone, forgetting them. He never came back.
'He must be happy with a lovely wife an' a good ol' job, I'd say.' Suzie used to tell people.
Oh, how much she didn't know. He was shot in September. A shot right in the head. Suzie saw that in the newspaper, though, but she had never even thought that this can be her son. Tommy.
The mayor was shot earlier today, while going to work. We do not know who shot him and why, the killer didn't leave any clews behind. May haps it was a band, a pact or a maniac-murderer. The best detectives are working on solving this mystery. Thomas L. Campilton is dead.
'Did you hear that Harold? They shot a mayor! Quite a world, if I do say so myself.'
'Speaking of Thomas... How is our Tommy? Makes me wonder.'
'Oh relax you... He's fine; we know that he finished university, law even. Now that's my blood.'
'You will never give up darlin'.'
'You got that right.'
Thomas L. Campilton. Politicians often change their surnames. We can't let the world know that a politician comes from a little village in the middle of nowhere. But that's not the point now. Is it?
'It's just not the same, when Bianca is gone', said Suzie
Bianca, the young and beautiful daughter of Suzie and Harold, has been gone for some time now. Gone, vanished without a trace. Hell knows where she can be.
'Yes, hun... I know, I know...'
'Harold, we are alone. Just alone. Will u eat your dinner 'till the end, hun?'
'Yes.'
She felt like smiling to him. After all, she has been living with him since wait...Wait... Was it 1889? Or 1890? Her memory failed her. Oh, how she loved him. Why surely, he was a quite decent man, never swearing, never drinking, never beating her. Always calm, quiet and very understanding, indeed.

'Momma... Momma... You care...'
Suzie woke up in the middle of the night. She was exhausted. All this 3 o'clock waking up business was making her tired and she always hated it, but never even thought about saying that to Harold, she knew how much he loved all this fresh country air.
Oh, how many times has she cursed this air, this house and all the neighbors that were constantly borrowing fresh milk, eggs and the whole time were talking about the weather. Yep. She was pretty much sick of that. She just went downstairs to the kitchen to catch a glass of water. She drank it so loudly; she started to be afraid that she could wake up Harold. Then she decided that it was a silly thought. She took her time standing and looking at the walls of the house. The house was very old but no one ever could say it, because the walls were always freshly painted the floors scrubbed so that they even shined. The furniture was also old. But it didn't give away any hints about their age. She stood there wondering, whose ancestors built this house and for what reason. It didn't actually look like a big palace or anything; it looked ordinary in comparison with other houses down hill.
'Why when I close my eyes I see some kind of blinking lights in the darkness?' She noticed that when she was 7. At that time she was laying calmly on the grass in her parents' garden. The fact of blinking lights was always a big mystery for her. Yeah, how can they be blinking if there is nothing but darkness? Some kind of optical illusion apparently.
'Momma... Momma...I know you care...'
Ok, optical illusion... But now? Hearing things?
'Definatly need more sleep.' She thought, while going upstairs.

'Jesus... How I hate these...'
.Suzie? Did u say somethin' hun?'
'Yeah, I said some sugar, please.'
'Oh, ok, here you are.'
Now Suzie decided to smile. A fake smile it was indeed.
'Suzie, I have the feeling, that something's wrong... Something's bothering you?'
'No, no Harold, why such a thought?'
(If I only could, I'd tear this whole damn farm to pieces)
''Besides, you know, that I love it here...'
'Suzie... You don't sleep well.'
'Yeah, maybe that's the probl'm hun...'
'You can finish your work today and go straight to sleep.'
(I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.)
'Well-uh... Maybe you're right... After all, I've been hearing things...'
Suzie smiled again; it was really obvious that the smile was fake... And Harold noticed that but left it unsaid.
'Hearing things... Like what?'
'Someone saying, mummy I know you care, or I know you love me... something like that... maybe its those... oh my God... how do you call them? Halluci...'
'Hallucinations. '
(HE said that on purpose to make me feel like an IDIOT.)
'Exactly, Harold... I must be getting old...'
'You should take sleeping pills tonight. Let us carry on with our work.'
Without a word Suzie went outside to do all her daily choirs. The grass was so green outside, it reminded of her childhood when she was running around the whole plantation with her friends, whereas she was supposed to help her parents. We all were naughty, she thought.
And where are your kids, oh mother of all?
The big brown shed. Yeah... Still standing like a temple although in some parts it is beginning to rot. Grass on the inside, grass on the outside... But who gives a damn?
Suzie remembers herself playing there. Cops and killers... Spit, shit... Cops and robbers. Such a nice place for...
'Kill me now!'
...Playing games... With those water guns, they were nice... Never dry. Always wet.
'Kill me...'
Remember that time, when basically Suzie won a battle against all of her friends and those losers didn't want to end the game, because of their loss. Hell... Yeah, sore losers.
'I hate you.'
After exiting the shed Suzie went to cook dinner and to dry the laundry. For some reason she felt happy, because, shoot... A sunny day, all the stains washed. So... Why not singing?
'Mary's got a job to do
Mary's always waiting for you
Mary's helping all her friends
Mary's love never ends'
'Nice to see you sin'nin' hun'
'Harold, you frightened me ...'
'Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to...'
'It's all right... I'm not myself lately, I guess...'
'Dinner was perfect.'
'I'm flattered.'
'Great. Can't wait for supper.'
Is that supposed to be a joke?
'Yeah, great.'
The day went by so quickly. It was almost bedtime. But before sleeping Suzie and Harold had a rather specific conversation. Why so? May haps too much information, may haps to little information. May haps none at all. Just banality.
'Mary's got a mark well – done
Mary's now the only one
Mary's got a secret key
Mary's gonna come for me.'
'You've had a nice day?', Harold asked
'Splendid.'
'Nice to hear. A good night sleep?'
'Yeah, especially, when all the things are completed.'
'Like what?'
Damn it, he's on to me...
'Like... Drying all of our clothes... Such a fuss about them.'
'All right... But no one had made any fuss about those things.'
'No, no... Of course not', Suzie smiled, 'I mean... I didn't have anything to wear... Because all of my clothes were filthy'
Momentary silence.
'Something's wrong, huh?'
'Why? Not at all.'
'Good. Great. Night, hun.'
'Night.'
Suzie didn't go to sleep. She waited for Harold to fall asleep. Then she will complete the already completed.
In a few moments Harold was sleeping. And when he's sleeping, nothing can wake him up. Even World War III wouldn't wake him. Maybe ten times Suzie was crying while Harold was sleeping. He has never noticed that. Or maybe she has never spotted his conscience? Or maybe he has never bothered to disturb her, while she was crying. Some people don't know how to cheer others up. So for certain people it's just better to stay put.
Suzie left the house and began walking towards the goddamn shed. Little did she know that Harold was walking right behind her. Silently. So silently... He almost heard her breathing.
Suddenly Suzie turned around. Looked behind. And after a second she continued walking towards the shed again. She was afraid to be spotted by that vicious man. She knew that she did a good thing, hiding her Bianca in the shed. He'd kill her. That mad man would kill her daughter. Luckily, now parts of her daughter are inside her. Good, good, good. Thanks God. Not that mad man. She'd kill him. Tear the guts out of him. She's a good mother, she protects her child. Suzie entered the shed. That big brown one.
After approximately ten minutes the door of the shed opened. Suzie went out, took a look around and went back again.
Harold was waiting for her just behind some bushes. He was sweating. He was afraid. He was nervous.
Time went by... Eye blink after eye blink, moment after moment, second after second, minute after minute... The whole situation was beginning to be unbearable for Harold. His hands were shaking; he almost had tiers in his eyes. The goddamn door didn't open. There was no choice for Harold. The time had come. He had to enter. No time to lose. Silently, yet quite fast he slid closer the door. It wasn't closed but it wasn't opened widely. He could see through a little hole, what was happening inside. He couldn't believe his eyes. Bianca? Bianca's face?
'What the...', he didn't finish.
With a smooth move, barely touching the door, he made it open wider. A bit. He heard strange sounds. Like someone was chewing something.
'Bianca... Bianca', he whispered.
The girl wasn't moving. She had her eyes opened. He saw that she had been scared. Had been scared? What?
Is she alive?
'Bianca... Bianca... Wake up...'
He opened the door wider. And that chewing sound became louder. Harold got lost for a moment. He grabbed a nearby stick.
An animal... Indeed, it was. He hurt my Bianca... And... Suzie! Kill the fucker!
'It's now or never, old chump...'
He opened the door completely. He didn't let that stick go. He held it like it was his last hope. (Yes, it was) He was ready to kill the beast. But he saw a different view. A much worse one.
First those hands... Hardworking... All covered in blood, holding a piece of something unknown. Then the body. So little, flesh and bones... All covered in blood. Then the face, smiling maniacally and... chewing... And laughing. The face was kind of old, yet vicious, ready to kill. Grey hairs, dyed hairs, brown hairs - a mixture of everything on the killer's head. Oh, that laughing face... That sinister laughter that voice... a voice of a mad person... it was getting louder and louder and louder! And the figure besides that creature... His Bianca... Only half of her to be exact.
'Mary's got a secret key
Mary's 'gonna come for me.'
That song, that voice... That silhouette devouring his daughter... His wife, Suzie...
'Come to mummy, before that mad man gets you. Come to mummy. Come here...'
And that laughter again. It just didn't seem to stop. Suzie spotted him.
'Get away from Bianca and me! You beast!'
'Suzie... What are...?'
'Get away from me and my daughter!', she started to laugh and scream and make sounds that were hardly human. She came near him and started to hit him, attack him, bite his neck. She bit through and blood poured out of him. He had no choice. He hit her with that stick. He hit her and hit her and hit her. He was hitting her for ten minutes without a stop. After that he realized that he was hitting a bag of broken bones - not human anymore... Ever human?
He fell down on the ground of the shed screaming, crying. He finally let the stick go. His hands were shaking. What now?
He buried both bodies, stayed alone in the house for some time, playing with the lights. On, off, on, off... On and off, on and off... He took some time breaking glasses, dishes. He cursed this house. He cursed it bad. He used words he had never used before.
Next day the neighbors heard a loud bang. After one hour his body was found in the seller. There lay a sheet of paper next to him, which said:
'Mary came for me...'

[({s...h...e})]

She
She is kept under the sheets
Of ground, dirt and grass
Sometimes asphalt covers her

She presents the lowest class

Sometimes she wants to escape
So she puts her new dress on
But a face as ugly as hers
Shall not be left unnoticed
Though she's exactly your age

She doesn't smile not she screams
She just whispers
Sometimes grins
She wasn't meant to be seen.

A hideous bitch.

Yet she saw all the things
You have done
You even cut her tongue away
You tore her eyes out
You've beaten nails into her legs and hands
And played Jesus Christ Pretend
You raped her and murdered
You've done everything you were able
Now even Heaven has a label

But she's waiting
To be noticed
You took her life, you took her fame
You took her defense
Now I hope you're satisfied and devoured by Pride
Because she was your Conscience.

.

.

Godsmack - Voodoo

KoRn feat. Marilyn Manson - Blair Witch

~*Back To The S^T^A^R^T

Well... I'm sooo off schedule with my writing, I'll try to write something tonight :) Meanwhile, I'd like to share 2 things with you, mainly my first ever story written in english (devoted to my dear friend Sunder) and my FIRST everrrr poem. (which i managed to write down & remember, cuz formally i dunno whether it's the very first poem in my entire life or not...) Sorry (not) but it's in polsh. If I have the will I shall translate it & put it into the comment box or something. IF. I want to spare you, you don't really wanna know this. lol. I'm such a loser. Anyway... Hope Everyone is fine... And I want to thank everyone for reading my mental things. You guys are the best. Hope you're all SUPERwell (& Mangue--> SUPERfine) lol. Hope you'll enjoy it & have quite a laugh.
Maria? Julka? Agata? Don't laugh at my polish poem too much ;P
***
There was something cold and blank behind her smile. She always was happy. She never even has thought about the fact that her life can change in one second. Why? She hasn't done anything bad. She didn't know why she deserved all this. She was just standing on that bridge and thinking. Jump or not? Jump or not? Jump! She has already stood up, ready to jump. Her feet didn't feel the ground. As if she was flying. And suddenly she felt cold, cold hands touching her waist. She was caught? Or in Heaven?
'What are you doing? Are you crazy?'
'Why did you save me?'
'Only weak people commit suicide. You are not like that, Shampa...'
'I don't want to live like this.'
'Life can change. Your name means it, Shampa as lighting.'
'I don't want to be this. I won't let this build up inside me.'
Shampa went away leaving her father alone on that forsaken bridge.
Not that the next day was something special, but it was in fact Shampa's wedding. She just woke up. And felt sad. She didn't want it. She didn't love him. Just didn't love at all.
'Your helpers are awaiting for your coming, Shampa', said the maid
'I'm not going.'
'Excuse me... Your father would be rather unhappy...'
'I'm not going.'
'Please. This is your wedding day. Don't you feel happy?'
'No.'
With that the maid left. Shampa was locked up in her room, she couldn't go anywhere. The helpers came into her room.
'Well, if you didn't want to leave your room, the helpers came here instead', said the maid
'Do you expect me to answer? '
'No... No... Don't answer.'
It took three hours to get Shampa dressed into her wedding sari. The jewelry was wonderful: shining, gold, pearls, silver' She wasn't happy.
'Can I be left alone before my long awaited wedding?' asked Shampa
'Surely.'
She was left alone again in her room. For her sake it was the first flour. She took off all the helpers work, that beautiful sari and put on some usual clothes. And escaped. Never to be heard from again.
***
'I was running and running and running. No one knows what it like is to loose your soul. No one knows what it like is to be reborn. The only people who knew me are gone. Gone, gone, without a trace... I remember it was raining. I wasn't crying. I was just running. I wanted to vanish. I stood there. I heard music. Piano...It was the piano. I stood there listening. I came near that house. It was beautiful... I was welcomed in. He gave me dry clothes. And I asked him if he could play some more for me. He played and played and played... Just as I asked. I fell asleep in the sound of music. That feeling was wonderful.'
'Do you hear something?'
'When I woke up, I saw him looking through the window. I asked his name. He said it was Safi. I repeated his name. It was beautiful. He only smiled at my mistaken face. I thought that this must be heaven. I was right, but I didn't know how right I was... Me and Safi we were walking the roads, forests, nature, he showed me lots of places, they were wonderful...'
'I'm scared...'
***
'No, Safi, not there... that's my home! They can recognize me!'
'Don't worry, my Sadaf...'
'Safi, I'm afraid! Let's not go there! Please!'
'Pearl, don't be afraid of everything! Look! This is a beautiful bridge!'
'I won't go there!'
'Why?'
'I can't! '
'All right, all right... Shampa, you are always afraid of everything.'
'No!'
'Yes!'
'Stop it!'
'Ok, ok, Pearl, I was just joking... Come on, let's go home, shall we?'
'Thanks God, Safi..'
***
'The funniest thing, that I never felt rain on my skin even when I was running, or standing. I never saw tears running down my cheeks. Was it because I have never cried? Or maybe it was because I was falling in love for the very first time? Anyway, I felt just joy and happiness, I was with my Safi. He always played such beautiful melodies on the piano. I couldn't bear not listening to them. They were like hypnosis. Irresistible. Unbearably irresistible. I always had the best clothes. They were always neat and clean. And the food brought by the servants was delicious. Time was flying fast, but I never felt that. I discovered that I am here with Safi for almost two years. I must confess, those years were the most incredible years in my life.’
'Voices again?'
'But he never asked me for marriage. I was afraid, that he doesn't love me. I couldn't bear it, so I asked him about that.'
***
'Safi, do you love me?'
'How could you doubt that?'
'How come you never asked me for marriage...?'
'What's the difference? We are here, you love me I love you...'
'But...'
'Shhh... You are tired. You should get some sleep...'
'Ok, Safi, I will...'
'It sometimes seems to me that the whole world has forgotten me. Only Safi always thinks about me and remembers me. I love that softness in him. I think if there is a person for whom I could die, that would be Safi. I know he could die for me...'
'Close your eyes...'
'I remember that time, when I was so afraid of lightning, he came to my room and was by my side until I fell asleep. That was my dearest moment. And I remember that he always turned the light on, when I was afraid of darkness. He is always with me. Funny, though, that already thirty years passed and I haven't changed a bit. Nothing changed in me. It's like I'm always the same. Safi says that people like me never change. I think he is right. But thirty years passed and I haven't changed?'
***
'Safi, I have the feeling you are not saying something...'
'How could I, Shampa...'
'Do you have a secret?'
'From you? Never, Pearl.'
'Liar!'
'No, I...'
'Liar!'
'Shampa. This is not for you.'
'Tell me!'
'No!'
'Tell me!'
'Shampa, I can't.'
'Tell me! You've always lied to me! You've never loved me!'
'That's not true! My Sadaf, I...'
'I'm sorry, how could I mistrust you...'
***
'Mum, tell me the story of this house that you bought.'
'No, sweetheart, it's scary...'
'But mum... Please... Could you?'
'Ok, Edhitha... There was a family here; they had a beautiful daughter, called Shampa. Unfortunately an evil man fell in love with her and insisted to marry her. The poor parents had no choice, but to make her marry him. The girl couldn't bear it and jumped off a bridge. This bridge...'
'But, mum, she is in a better place now...'
'Surely, sweetheart, she is somewhere happy, listening to beautiful melodies, like all happy souls...'
' hear her voice everyday, mum...'
'You are imagining things, Edhitha.'
'No, mum, you can hear her voice after it rains. She sometimes scares me.'
***
'That's not true! I'm not dead! How could I be dead? Safi? Safi? How could this happen?'
'...'
'Safi! Speak to me! How can it be?'
'You were young and couldn't bear marring that man...'
'What happened to you?'
'I was that man you didn't want to marry. I also jumped off that bridge.'
'Safi... I...'
'Come, Pearl, you must be tired, let's go home...'
'I...'
'Shhh... Don't say anything....
***
'Now I know the truth. How do I live? Do I live? I exist ok. Myself and Safi went to listen to nature's music today. I'm not afraid of the dark anymore, but I have a lot to learn. It's ok... Eternity is mine.'


Moje Zycie
Gdyz zycie moje jest tak krotkie
Pamietam, to dziecko malutkie,
To bylam ja: moje rece, moje nogi,
Matki cierpliwosc do mnie uczynila moje zycie-
Rajem, rajem, gdzie rosna drzewa,
Gdzie deszczyk czesto cicho polewa...
Posluchaj, slyszysz te cisze, piosenke,
Gdzie przyjaciele moga byc razem...
Gdzie nie ma oszustwa, klamstwa
Gdzie jest cicho,
Slyszysz, slyszysz, przyjacielu te cisze...
Tam zima pola sie biela,
Zobacz, jak barwne zycie dala ci matka,
Ty masz zycie podobne, podobne do raju,
Tylko zbyt czesto go nie cenisz...

The Orb - Kompania (Grooved Ware Mix) (Sam? I think u'd like this song/piece whatever it is.)

P~o~s~s~i~b~i~l~i~t~i~e~s

I can wear high heels
I can bleach my hair blonde
I can hide under a mask
Of powder and mascara
I can cry to banal love songs
I can even pretend that this is right

I can smile at any guy in the street
I can distribute my phone number
I can make them all
Plead at my feet

I can talk in a nice sweet way
I can make you my precious whore
And I can get your extra pay
Then leave you bleeding and slam the door

I can do many things
But why should I
If I don't want to

Why should I look foolish?
Why should I be somebody I'm not?
Then Hitler wasn't Jewish
Chapman never killed a slut.



Art By Luis Royo (who I happen to be a big fan of)
Tool - Parabola
Tool - Reflection

...Less...

Hey. Since I'm outta inspiration over the last few weeks, I'd like to share something specific with you. I have no idea will u understand it or not. But this doesn't matter now, does it? Everyone has his own way of understanding and that's why I'm kinda interested in your interpretations.

I was watching 'Lost' maniacally. I've learned a lot of things. I'm not going to mention them here or now or anywhere because it's something I'll leave for myself. (Like you care lol)



So here it is. I wrote it last summer. I just was feeling Less. This is how I described my feeling:

Less
Less than anything in here
Less than anything in this room
Less than rubbish
Less than words
Less than gestures
Less than pleasure
Oh, much less...
Even less than pain
Place number
123699245
In your dictionary
Less than trouble
123699246
Mistake
That's my position
For you
Flu's position is
123699247
Thank You

Ring... Ring... Ring...

Ring... Ring... Ring...
***
It was a fine day... Summer, sweet summer... I woke up and smiled as the sun was shining on my face... I embraced my Teddy and thought that today is MY day... Nope, nothing's going to go wrong today... I stood up, my mum made my favorite cereal... 'Chocos'. I smiled at her...
'Morning, Hun', my mum whispered and kissed me.
'Morning mum...'
'You look peculiar today...'
'No...'
'Yeah...' Hell, yeah she was right...
I sat down in front of the TV to watch my morning cartoons. And then... It all began... It ringed...
'Hello?'
'Hi Hun...'
(Lord only knows how good it felt to hear your voice)
'Hey...'
'What' s up?'
'Nothing much... Just woke up...'
'Laaaaaazy...'
'Yeah...'
(A pause)
'I like me', I added
(Your laugh has a healing power; I somehow understand it only now. When I hear your voice I feel careless and... Well, yeah I get butterflies in my stomach sometimes and my heart beats faster... Yeah, it feels right…)
'Soa... Free today?'
'Yup.'
'How about some fun?'
'You got it.'
'In the central park?'
'At 3 PM'
'Great'
'Great'
'Great'
'Great'
'Shut Up!'
'Ok, catch you then...'
'Bye' I smiled and hung up.
Well... I put on my clothes... A T-shirt, my baggy 'falling-down' jeans, brushed my hair, brushed my teeth. And I was gone.
'Bye mum'
'Have fun, sweetheart'
I kissed my mum and flew (literally) out of the house. I smiled at some old lady at the bus stop and she smiled back at me. I got on the bus, sat down... It was hot and all the windows were opened, but it didn't matter to me. I got off the bus and on my way to the park; I decided to buy a lollypop.
'Hey!'
'Morning!'
'I'd like a lollypop... Cherry and Pineapple', I said and smiled
'There you go miss.'
'Muchas Gracias'
The shop assistant smiled at me, obviously not knowing how to reply in Spanish. Anyway, I saw the park and I was heading towards it... I entered and saw you, standing there waiting for me... And the first thing I noticed was that you also had two lollypops... Yup, cherry and pineapple they were. I came closer. I smiled.
'Pineapple, please, sir.'
'Madame?'
'Thank you.'
'Cherry?'
'Only for you...'
'So, we both bought the same thing?'
'Our thoughts are heading the same way. Reading each other's minds... That's a power...'
'Is that bad?'
'Nope. It's dangerous.'
'Why?'
'Because, you know what am I thinking and I know what you are thinking.'
'Oh really? So what am I thinking about?'
'Hmm...'
(A tough one)
'Well... Ok, ok you got me, I give up... Tell me?', I asked innocently
'I was thinking if you weren't against that we'd go and see a movie?'
'Aha... Read my mind?'
'Yes?' And you showed me your tongue.
'You boring dirt bag' I also decided to show you my tongue.
Imagine this: two people standing in the park and approximately 10 minutes showing tongues to one another. Yup, that's what we did.
On our way to the cinema we were talking about everything; global problems, politics, philosophy... Like two nerds. But hey, we 4 eyed nerds can kick ass! We bought 2 tickets to a comedy. And no, we decided not to sit in the back sit. We decided to sit in the middle, just to get a better view. We laughed so much, it was hard to breathe. I don't really remember any part of that movie, or even its name, I was busy laughing at the funny faces we did during the whole film. We walked out of the cinema and decided to pop into a dessert restaurant and have some ice-cream. I don't know how most of my ice-cream landed on your nose... Wasn't me... Or was it? Anyway, it was all so much fun. Then we went for a walk... We were singing songs, head banging, screaming, fighting and laughing until tears filled our eyes. But then it became late and we had to go home.
'Guide you home?'
'Nah...'
'Huh? Are you sure?'
'Of course, thanks for a cool day...'
'No thank you.'
'I said thank you'
'Well, I said thank you'
'Shut up! Thank you!'
'Ok, ok thank me...' Again your tongue.
'Bye' I smiled and embraced you. Then, before you knew it, I was gone.
'Bye, Hun...'
I didn't receive any word from you after that time. You were away for a week… For a month. You were just quiet. May haps avoiding me? I must admit, I was extremely sad. You could at least call me. Just once. I was waiting in front of the phone the first few days.
The worst thing about feelings is that they have the tendency to vanish. To be erased, destroyed, deleted.
***
Ring... Ring... Ring...
I am awakened by the excessive ringing of the telephone... Damn it... Again the ringing...
Ring... Ring... Ring...
I still somehow am in my dream... I somehow still fight a wizard... I still scream that I loved an elf...
Ring... Ring... Ring...
Ringing of that goddamn mother fucker telephone! Someone make it stop! I lazily slip out of my bed, crawl to that telephone... I left it in the kitchen.
Ring... Ring... Ring...
I stop and stare at that little trouble maker wishing I had a hammer to crush it into none existence. I am ready to pull my hand towards that little red thing...
Ring... Ring... Ring...
And I know it's him, for sure... And something doesn't let me pick up the phone. That annoying ringing.
Ring... Ring... Ring...
I sit down on the floor near that telephone. Listening to its ringing… It doesn't stop. The sound of it is cutting its way through my ears. I feel them bleeding.
Ring... Ring... Ring...
I know it's him... I know it's him... But I am not guilty that feelings fade away. I can't do anything. Some inner voice is telling me to go away from the kitchen. So I do it. Is it my pride? Is it my conscience? No, I don't know who or what is it.
I slowly walk out of the kitchen. And my mum goes in and answers the phone.
After 5 minutes she walks into my room.
'Why didn't you answer the phone? Grandma called and invited us to dinner.'
'Sorry mum...'
I sat there in my room. I was thinking what an idiot I had been. I was laughing.
Well, the funny thing was, that if it wasn't him calling, (although I thought that particularly this call would be his) means we never could read each other's minds. Isn't that a relief?

Who is EDYTA?

This is me last summer. Psycho. I even pretend to be serious. lol
Things about me u wanted to know but were afraid to ask:
Any questions? Feel free to ask. (Like you care lol)

Ten Top Trivia Tips about Edyta!

1. Worldwide, Edyta is the most important natural enemy of night-flying insects.
2. Czar Paul I banished Edyta to Siberia for marching out of step.
3. Edyta was originally green, and actually contained cocaine!
4. People used to believe that dressing their male children as Edyta would protect them from evil spirits.
5. Medieval knights put the skin of Edyta on their sword handles to improve the grip.
6. Louisa May Alcott, author of 'Little Edyta', hated Edyta and only wrote the book at her publisher's request.
7. Edyta can drink over 25 gallons of water at a time.
8. Edyta has only one weakness - the colour yellow.
9. Forty percent of the world's almonds and twenty percent of the world's peanuts are used in the manufacture of Edyta.
10. Edyta can clean her ears with her tongue, which is over thirty-nine inches long.

http://thesurrealist.co.uk/trivia.pl" method="get" style="background-color:#5F5F42;color:#CFCF95;padding:4px;text-align:center">I am interested in - do tell me aboutherhimitthem

Mangue? Sam? May haps you'd like to find out some trivia about your amazing selves. I gladly encourage you to do so.

Pink Floyd - Dogs [Animals]

|+|Irreligious|+|

Prelude:
Pray for me
Because today I walked on needles
Pray for me
Because I'm losing faith and feelings.
Pray for me
Almighty God might hear you now
Pray for me
Because it's you who makes Him proud
Pray for me
I can't stand although I'm trying
Pray for me
I'm out of breath and yes, I'm dying
Pray for me
Jesus? Mohammed? Jachwe? Buddha?
Pray for me
For my soul is an intruder
Pray for me
Mention words
Concentrate
If there's hope
It's not too late.

When impudence grows egregious
Antichrists become religious.

Well. My family refuses talking to me. They are disgusted by my existence. Well, what can I do? That's how I earn money. I don't really regret my position at the moment. It's all about the dance. It's all about the vibe. And it's definitely about the money. At least for me it is. I don't think that my clients think the same way as I do, yet our security guards are quite persuasive.
'Helena?'
'Speaking' I said
'You have to come earlier today. The girls will have their final rehearsal. They are quite nervous. They need you and your support.'
'I see. Don't worry Kay, I'll be there.'
'Love ya, sweets'
She always calls me sweets. Not that I don't like it.
I'm considered as a nerd at my university. I wear glasses, some plain clothes. Not many people talk to me, in fact, they find me boring. The better.
'Is it that Plain Jane, Helena?'
'Well, yeah... She must know all the answers!'
'Let's catch her.'
'Oh Helena, could you please...'
'... Tell you the answers... Yeah... Sure...' I said
'You know, you sometimes need to take a break from all those studies. Like go to a club or something. Make out... Stuff like that.' One of the guys said. It was Josh.
They don't really know how disgusted they make me feel, when they are looking at me with hungry eyes while embracing other girls. But I stay put. They are my costumers. I am their entertainer.
'I don't have time for that.'
'Do you have another job? You're earning your money for studies that way?'
'Yeah, I work ... In a fast food restaurant.'
'I see, Helena. You're a pretty girl. Maybe...'
'Maybe not.' I walked away.
I didn't walk away because of his proposal. I know that he has maybe 10 more girlfriends that are constantly messaging him and he just can't get enough. He wants more. He wants to prove that he is the man. THE MAN. And I've just screwed his whole plan.
Not that I have a boyfriend myself. I had one, whom I really loved. But after he discovered that I had been a strip dancer he turned away from me. He said that I was a dirty whore. He said that I was ugly. He said I was a menace, a disgrace. He said I was irreligiously vain. He said that I was a mistake. He looked into my eyes and said that it would be better if I wasn't born at all. Then he gave me a nice slap on the face and walked away, leaving me speechless. But I wasn't crying. I didn't have time; I had to go to work.
I went back home, ate something and watched some TV, while I was putting my uniform on. A blue sparkly bra with black flowers on it... well I decided that today would be blue underwear day. I had to put on those fucking heels. For some reason people find them hot. I don't see anything hot in a stick glued to a shoe. I'm sorry. I'm that old-fashioned. Anyway, I rushed off to meet with my make up artist. Today we have the Grotesque Vision Party. So there will be a lot of make up on me, I guess.
'There, your look turns me on, Helena' Federico said after he finished his work of art.
'Well yeah... Looks hot.' I laughed out. My make up artist always puts me in an appropriate mood. For that I am thankful to him.
'It's your time, Helena. Now you are Hella. Don't forget that.' Kay (the owner of the club) said
'Hell yeah'
And it just floated in me. The music, the vibe, everything. I was just dancing so hard that I could feel sweat on my body. It felt good. The best thing, however, was to take off my corset. After that I felt such freedom. I just did my job. And how juicily I have done it... 3 rules: The look. The move. The tease.
Throughout my whole performance I saw half of my university group having fun, making out (as Josh said), disgustingly kissing and getting drunk.
A wave of narcissm over floated my whole body. It was only me that mattered. My look, my move and my tease. No matter how much I hated my viewers.
And I saw Drew, my ex, long lost boyfriend. I felt his cold stare. He felt like a king. The bastard. He called out the waitress.
'Yo, babe, can you tell Helena to come to the blue room.'
'I ain't no babe to yaz, sunny.'
'Shut up and tell Helena that I need to talk to her.'
My friend and co-worker Jane told me about Drew. I don't really know why I decided to go. I knew I'd be humiliated. Still I had come to him just because he was waiting for me.
When I came in, he looked at me.
'Great body.' He said
I stayed silent. He came near me. He looked deeply into my eyes. He touched my face with his fingertips. Just like in the old days, I thought. He smiled at me and wanted to kiss me. I turned around.
'Why not? It's your job. I shall pay to your secretary.' He started laughing.
I stayed silent. I was looking at the security coming near him and taking him away from me and willing to throw him out of the club.
After the show I changed my clothes and took a taxi to go home.
While looking at the street lights, I felt so lonely in this world.
And I thought it was a banal thing, all those people paying money to see me dancing near an iron column. And it was banal that they were paying money to get drunk and vomit in the morning. It was banal that they were paying money just to be thrown out. The most banal thing was that they called me irreligious when they are the ones that disgust me, other people and themselves.
Life is indeed banal.
The next day... Shit. It was the same as any other day. They didn't know about me yet I knew about them. I knew what Josh had done yesterday... And Jeffrey, David, Drew, Travis, Mickey, Pete... and all the rest. I knew it all. I knew all of their sins. I was irreligious? I was God, himself.
Just they didn't know about me yet I knew about them.

Thank you so much Agata and Her Mum for inspiration. (The 'Prasti Hospode' Fraze)

Moonspell - Irreligious

Speak To Me

Speak to me

You say pleasure
I say pain
You say distance
I say road
You say grass
I say asphalt
You say me
I say he
You say endless
I say ended
You say cheap
I say you
You say deep
I say shore
You say more
I say enough
You say drive
I say die
You say mind
I say soul
You say hope
I say lost
You say change
I say stay
You say smile
I say cry
You say calm
I say violent
You say I hate you
I stay silent

Tool - The Patient

Cult Of Luna - Waiting For You

They CARE!

Well... Nowadays I am kinda suffering from a writer's block. So I don't have anything of my own that I'd feel like posting. But I'd like to make a tribute to my SPAM MAIL.
Well, spam mail is a good thing, once you look at it from a different approach. When no one is writing you and you feel so desperate to get a mail, you can always get 1 or 2 spam mails. My spammers are poets. No shit. They are poets. I'd like to share one of my spam mails:

From: "Maureen Lacy"
Subject: for, Edyta (gee... thanx)

When you just not sure...
When you are young and stressed up...
When you are aged and never give up...
IT gives you confidence in any chance, every time.
IT offers you the freedom of choosing the right moment.
Improve your intimate life!
Take care of your health today!
Wish you great health!

And there was a finishing touch, kinda philosophical:

A boy doesn't have to go to war to be a hero he can say he doesn't like pie when he sees there isn't enough to go around.wannaThe errors of faith are better than the best thoughts of unbelief.statsFascism is a religion. The twentieth century will be known in history as the century of Fascism.


All I'd like to say is that people care. People care not only about me, but also about my sexual life. People wish to improve it and they wish me health. Not only health but great health.
They also teach me their philosophy which, in their opinion, I may find useful.


iigeexbagsd@ belice.com: Fw: HI Any med for your girl to be happy (they want to make my girl happy... How sweet... wtf?)
Miguel Melvin: increase in sexual desire (they want to increase my sexual desire)

They CARE. So never say that you are alone because it's just not true.
You love your spam mail now?

Right now just kidding... lol... Hope to snap outta my block and write something useful. But I must confess the Viagra salesmen never seize to amaze me.

Infected Mushroom - Neverland (Infect Me Mix)
Nine Inch Nails - The Perfect Drug

...Out Of The Slammer...

***
Now don't think that I have no feelings or that I am a mad serial killer. Nothing like that. Well, yeah I am in prison. But as every prisoner, I can say that I am not guilty. Of course, you won't believe and, as I must say, you'd probably be right.
That goddamn newspaper. I'd kill the journalist. But hey, I'm here, sitting among the people who hate everything, including themselves. Yeah, this vibe kind of affected me through out the years. I've become dull, numb, and emotionless. Not that I am sorry for myself, absolutely not. I still have dreams, because I still have hopes. And everything will be just plain great after tomorrow's trial. Everything or nothing. Freedom or slavery. I'm quite positive that everything is going to come out perfect. I will be free at last. It's been 10 years now! Yeah...10 years, now that's much, isn't it? But I'm sure they were worth waiting because at long last I will see Karen. I wonder if she has changed much. I remember her being so young, so beautiful. And then that whole thing happened.
I swear to God, I didn't do anything that day. I didn't kill that woman. Lock me up and throw away the keys, and leave me bleeding for the rats to devour if that ain't true. I was walking when I suddenly saw that woman, screaming for help. Then I saw those two guys, wanting to rape her, apparently. She spotted me and shouted for me to come. The bastards also spotted me. One of them was holding a knife which was touching her bare white skin. Well, I guess he didn't know his own strength because he swung the knife to frighten her. Instead, he killed her. (I don't remember that much blood since my biology classes in University. Yep, I was pretty sure, that I would become a doctor at that time.) And now this happens... of course the guys saw that the woman was dying and ran away. I ran towards her; I wanted to help. I took the knife and put it aside. I tore my t-shirt (with the Chicago Bulls logo, which I happen to be a big fan of until now) and wanted to block the bloody fountain. I know, I know... so that was a bad idea. But what would you do in a situation like this? Then I saw it was no use. Some buddy phoned the police and of course, undoubtedly, surely, undeniably, the police decided that I was the person behind Audrey Cormison's (how it soon appeared) death. Who was Audrey? She was a beautiful woman, not married, living with her parents and working in the library. She was a very smart person. I should know... we were in the same school but she was a year or two older than me.
Anyway, back to our situation. There were lots of screams, when the police wanted to book me. I mean, I only wanted to help and here is what you get for being a good citizen. A lot of reporters caught this situation and put it into the yellow pages. Hell, yeah, it was a cover story. I was a star. Not that I wanted to be one.
And now I am here. After 10 years they decide that they have mercy. I hate mercy. Seriously. I hate mercy. Mercy is something like being enslaved. And when you are a slave, you depend on someone. I hate being a pendant. I understand it if God blesses you with His mercy. And here, what do you get? Mercy from people that you even don't know or don't intend to know. What the hell? Are they God to share their mercy with me? So God-wannabes shared their mercy with me. How sweet. It took them 10 years to realize that I was innocent. Jerks.
Anyway, fine, be that way. At least I'll get to see Karen. She wrote me so many letters. And I am so extremely excited to finally see her. I know, she waited for me and now voila, this is me, Mr. Out-of-the-prison-I-am-Innocent. But Karen loves me the way I am and that's why I love her, she's herself. Everything will be ok, hunky-dory, peachy-keen, fine and dandy after tomorrow.
***
I woke up next day, knowing that I'll be free. A swell feeling, indeed.
'Jackub?'
'Yeah', I said
'There's a letter for ya from your sweetie. Ya'll be all together after ya'll get outta this joint.' Kevin smiled at me. Kevin's a nice guy. He came to work here all the way from Texas. Most of the guys made fun of his accent. But I just didn't have the heart to make fun of that nice guy. Through him I could get almost anything I wanted: all those cigarettes that I smoked, mineral water, toothpaste and of course the letters from Karen.
'Sure thing, Kevin. You won't even recall seeing me after 5 days.'
'Gots to hope so, buddy.'
'You'll see,' and I was right.
'You gots to be damn lucky to get out of the slammer'
'I am.'
Tell you what. It was very nice of Kevin to talk to me and all but at that very moment I was concentrating on the letter and I couldn't understand anything with him saying stuff that really didn't matter to me. No, not then.
I opened the letter, read it attentively. I read it once, twice, three times and it still wasn't enough. Karen, Karen, Karen. My sunshine. I put the letter in my pocket, combed my hair and went off. It was time for the trial.
'Good luck now, Jackub. And I hope not to see your ass here again', Kevin smiled at me. I stayed silent. I knew he wouldn't see me again... Ever.
***
'Jackub Govemarson'
'Me', I spoke unsurely.
'Do you affirm that on the night of February the 6th, in Massachusetts, you were just the witness of the crime and not, in any case, the murderer?'
'No'
'Pardon?'
'I am the man who killed Audrey Cormison.'
'Do you realize what are you doing, Jackub?'
'I do, Your Honor.'
'Very well, Jackub. I sentence you to 20 years of...'
'I object, Your Honor, we need to have a discussion.'
'Lawyer Barntley, we do not have anything to discuss.'
'Please, Your Honor.'
'Very well. The trial is off to make its final decision'
After approximately 5 minutes the judge came back with his final verdict.
'Jackub Govemarson. You've been claimed guilty for the murder of Ms. Audrey Cormison. The court agreed that you'll be executed. Today, Mr.Govemarson.'
I looked at the judge. I think I had a question mark painted on my face or something, because the judge answered me at once.
'The chair, Jackub.'
I nodded.
'May this be a lesson to you. Mr. Jackub Govemarson. And to all that...' The judge didn't finish.
I think he knew the truth. Besides the two bastards who killed Audrey were sitting right in front of him, shocked and sitting still as rocks. They didn't expect me to say that, nor did the judge. Nor did I. I had my reasons.
'Take him away.' The judge tried to be determined and cold. But he was a bad actor. You can't buy that kind of talent, I'm afraid.
***
They leaded me into the blue room. There it was, the chair. Such a beau. They made me sit in it and so I did, of course. I felt how those cold wires sank into my skin and unleashed blood steams. I looked down at my legs. My clothes were torn but that didn't matter now, did it? They put a mask on me, asked me if I had any requests, I said none. In front of me there were about 30 chairs, filled with people watching me as I sat here, dying. Their eyes were full of hate. Especially Brenda's. Brenda was Audrey's best friend. I could imagine how she hated me right now.
The priest came just by then. He prayed for me. I joined him. I must say, throughout my whole life, I was religious. My mum taught me that God is the source of all good things in life. And I believed her.
I heard a smash. Then I felt how cold electrons went into my body causing me to open my eyes widely and look up. My fingers went up, as if they wanted to reach God, something I could never do. I opened my mouth, shaking. I wanted to close my eyes, but something was blocking my will.
I heard another smash. Now I felt my muscles extremely temped. And something hot was in me. It was unbearably hot. I was on a frying pan, literally. I started to hurt me very much. My mouth was hurting me because it was opened and I couldn't close it. And the edges of my mouth were bleeding; I basically tore my own mouth apart. No more kissing in this life, I thought.
The third smash. My body rises. It all goes blank. Nothing happened.
***
It was time to get rid of my body. Two guys came up to do it.
'Hey George, he has something in his pocket.'
'What's that?'
'A letter.'

Dear Jackub,

I know that You will be free soon. I was writing you so many times...Well, there is something I've never told You. I got married 6 years ago and I work as a journalist in the local newspaper. Do you remember? That was my wish! I hope Your life will settle. By the way, Your mother died two weeks ago. Don't worry, she had a memorable funeral. You can live with Andrew and me for the first month and then You should find a place of Your own! We all are waiting for You!
Karen

Karen, Karen, Karen. My sunshine.

~Egyptian Memories~

So I'm back all the way from Egypt. It was amazing. It was the best. The desire that haunts me now, is to be able to turn back time. Something that I can't do. Unfortunately. But at least I came back with dozens of memories and emotions.

There are too many people who I'd like to thank... So I won't do it... :P

The pyramids were huuuuge.... Being on the yacht and snorkling was a looot of fun... The massages were heavenly. I had a swell time with my mum.

...
...
...
Is that why I came there for?
Only I uncousciously knew that I wasn't going to Egypt for that. There was another reason.
~
~
~
Throw a coin into the sea
And close your eyes
...
Memorize.
.
Somehow money
Makes you rich
And when You
don't agree about your points
Time passes
And you flip a coin
You start to understand a bit
That You were right
Or so wrong, so you don't admit.
.
Coins get stolen
Coins get old
Psychologists hypnotize you
And you do as you are told
Coins get grabbed
Coins get lost
They are all that
People cost
.
Still I dare you
Come with me
Take my hand
Close your eyes
...
Memorize
Take this coin
Make a wish
Throw it into the water
Look at me
So who's the richest one of all?
...All those wishes...
Answer me.
Yeah.
The richest is the Sea.
.
All the coins that it devours
1 dollar per wish in an hour.
.
.
I am proud to devote this poem to Ahmed. Too many reasons why. You deserve more.
.
Jon And Vangelis - Mayflower
Ill Nino - Have You Ever Felt

D/I/M/E/N/S/I/O/N/S/

Dimensions

...

...

...

No one ever had to mention

...

...

...

There's no time to react

...

...

...

As you've been taken to another dimension

...

...

...

The life's and destiny's pact.

.

.

.

So ususpectedly I picked up the phone expecting to hear my mother's voice. She was very calm. I was busy, doing something, as usual. I was drinking tea. She asked me so calmly and in a way that I felt that she would be asking something about a routine, that devoured me.

'Wanna go to Egypt?'

I let my tea cup go. Uncounsciously.

'Well yeah'

So, my friends, I'll be away for a week.

I feel like I'm going into another dimension. From winter tears to summer fears.

I am afraid. Of what?

.

.

.

***

Crushed Creations

Built to be destroyed

Hidden frustrations

We shouldn't be disturbed

.

Me? I'm afraid of

the TV turning on

when I don't have

the remote

I'm afraid of

oceanary disharmony

while cruising

in a boat

I'm afraid of

fearing

phobias, paranoias, diseases

They're killing me

While keeping me

Alive

I'm afraid of

yet-to-be-done harm

I'm a fraid of clocks stopping

Something I could never have done

I'm afraid of decisions

And uncertain actions

I'm afraid of war

And human-based soap manufactures

And how bacteria eats me

from the inside

I'm afraid of religion

What if God hates me?

No place to hide.

I'm afraid of uncouscious thinking

My mind enslaves me

And I'm afraid of Utopia

and the hopes it gave me.

.

.

I will be back in a week. See you then. As for now I am afraid of lack of reason.

.

No. Don't ask. Not today.

.

.

Marilyn Manson - Come White

(hed)P.E. - The Meadow