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Below are the 19 most recent journal entries recorded in For thoughts, emotions... peoples... obsession's LiveJournal:

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Monday, April 28th, 2014
6:49 pm
who am i?
Sometimes I don't feel like a real person, I feel like an expectation, or a persona or a comedic portrayal of amusement,
I find it hard to be close to people, find it hard to really open myself up and feel that connection with people, it always seems to function on a semi-artificial way, its not that i'm fake, its just i'm constantly feeling awkward or self examining.

I have so many wonderful friends who have helped and guided me in so many deep and astounding ways and although they know I love them, I don't think they realized how much they have done for me over the years.

I moved from Liverpool my home town to North Wales, basically from the city to the country and although I love where I live and adore the life I've made, I left alot of my friendships behind, not seeing people regularly is really difficult, i don't feel like I have people I can talk to, I have made new friends but even they are not really close by.
I need to make a commitment with myself to reach out to my friends more, to talk and chat with them even if I don't see them in person.
I need to remember that its not a bad thing to let my walls down and open myself up a bit
Wednesday, November 2nd, 2011
4:09 pm
The Sun That Never Shines
The constant tap of raindrops
Repeats itself upon my window pane
Alone in the darkness, I sit
Lost, without a heartbeat
My breath grows colder by the day
Dry teardrops leave stains of
Loneliness on my face
Remembering a time when the
Skies were bright and
The clouds were perfect
Now they have faded and the
Sky remains grey
Time passes yet
Nothing changes
Everything inside of me
Molds rotten
And the rain just pours away
Maybe the sun will come back
Another day
Friday, April 15th, 2011
2:40 am
Vodka Tequila Absinthe: An Ode to Jonkoping
The spirit of white spirits creep and hover round the room, jacking up the tunes as we casually play chess. Sitting in a chatty circle as we chip away the shots, go from good to gud to gouwd as we shoot the Russian tea. We raise our sixes to God and country in a unified Nastarovia, the chess game is now on "hold" and the tough guys are now so bold. Our conviction is Absolute so we go absolutely blue, but even with a Yeltsin compromise we are Absolutely true.

The transition from home to disco is a freak show of flashing pictures. No coherent coordination, no adherence to cordial conduct. We lost two men back at home and a third has fallen on the bus, They were raped by the ritual of the rugged Russian tea and now wreak of puke and liquor. The remainder of the platoon randomly staggers into the club, then we feel our way to the bar. Sixes of tequilas and am not talking rose, but we get the shots in six standing rows.somewhere down the road the tequila becomes suicidal; the salt goes up your nose and the lime down your eyes ... these are your last memories for the night and your height can dwarf a kite.five more men fall and three are left standing, narration of subsequent events must be done in the third person:

His world begins to spin and then he picks up his phone, drunks calls potato and talks some stuff i dont know. "are you a fucking Nazi" he says to the skin head beside, then is politely told to fuck off as he is pushed to the side. He proceeds to the bathroom and takes a piss in the sink, walks out with his zip down and drunk migrates to the lounge. He bumps into this random girl that had asked him out in his class, he tells her "sorry I only date Asians" while adjusting his hat. He runs into his last two standing comrades who just as wasted as him, they drunk migrate to the bar and now it is looking pretty grim. I wish i could say they were at the bar to buy some mint, no, he talks to the bar tender "please three sixes of absinthe" ...

Sunday, December 12th, 2010
5:30 pm
Eleven Months of Guilt
By Nephyr Pariah © 2010 nephyr_pariah

Illusion, illusion
I cry for you
Beautiful, silent, numb
I wish for you
Flow of thought
Empty, tired, dead
I've spent forever looking
Forever, I've spent, looking
Forever, I am looking
My illusionary boy
Standing there
You're standing there
And you care not for me
So, no, you cannot be... he
My illusion, illusion
So the search begins again
But it's too late
I cannot help
That I love you, my friend
Thursday, July 22nd, 2010
8:34 pm
It's Mine


...Collapse )

I want someone to think I'm beautiful again. Read more...Collapse )

Current Mood: thoughtful
Wednesday, July 21st, 2010
11:17 am
Beauty in Your Selfishness

    You are so beautiful. I don’t think you realize it. The truly beautiful people never do. And I’m not talking looks here I'm talking about everything; everything about you is wonderful. I’m not even with you anymore. I’m not in that same place with you. I’m not in that idealistic enchanting forest with you, nor am I on that beach at night with you, with the waves crashing about us and the moon shining high up in the sky among the stars, but I still see your beauty. It’s in your eyes. It shoots out through those portals and graces everyone in a lovely glance. You’re not perfect. You frustrate me and aggravate and piss me off. You don’t understand simple things and refuse to communicate but still you're wonderful and beautiful. You’re strong and genuine and that’s so hard to find today. But your selfish and i hope one day you take a step outside of yourself.


Current Mood: calm
Monday, April 26th, 2010
4:24 am
Thursday, February 25th, 2010
5:54 pm
God dont like beautiful
It all started with a bang that progressed into man ... I say it started with man and regressed into a very big bang ... Its obvious that God don't like beautiful because its ugly. We have proven our superior ability to create destruction which appears to justify the notion that humans are set to self destruct.

Over time we have always managed to find a way to disagree and we have skillfully developed new methods of violence to escalate these disagreements. The fist became a stick and the stick became a stone, the stone became a bow, then a sword, then a gun. We grew our campaign of destruction from local to global, gassing and nuking ourselves to an all time low. During our endeavors a continent was pillaged and its inhabitants enslaved, 6 million people were murdered for being circumcised, we got more creative and introduced temperature to determine the type of war being fought, two towers fell and so did two countries, oh and a celebrity lost her dog ... (Just a quick brush on the topics that made the headlines)

Lets face facts, much of what we uphold to be the centerpiece of the human civilization is nothing more than a hypocritical assault on logic. The premise that humans are in someway smarter and less barbaric than other animals is somewhat flawed in my opinion. We are probably the only animals on planet earth that have sat down and intricately authored our own destruction ... We made our peace with death and came to realize that life was a much more formidable foe.

Saturday, February 13th, 2010
8:41 pm
third-person metaphorical fibs
Weary, teary-eyed when the weather changed
when she was sixteen, swore she'd flee this state
couldn't have known then she'd end up his prey
tearing at her flesh
blood seepin outta her veins
doc says you can't just stop 'em, you gotta slowly wane
from 5 to 4 to 3 to 2
but you've still got you're secrets glued
shut tight, hidden away from view
fatal pills dropped in this stew
"Just eat it up, it's good for you."
the metal taste when death awaits
like licking spoons to rid the taste
fully numb tongue from crack cocaine
tases so sweet, just for a while though
your guilt & shame, you fucking criminal
Tuesday, February 2nd, 2010
2:33 am
My roommate steals from me. I'm not talking borrowing without asking or forgeting to put things back. For instance, i have a pair of diamond earrings i got for my birthday from my mom a few years ago. I noticed she was wearing them, i said oh are those my earrings and she said no. the thing is though, they were mine. Anyway i waited a few days and said i really needed my earrings back, she pretended like i didnt know i was aling about. She does it in this absurdly passive way and she knows im extremely unconfident and therefore unconfrontational so she just takes advantage of me. the weird part is shes liek my best friend, like actually a great friend in many ways. but that is all over shadowed by the fact that she steals from me and then lies about it. I dont know what to do its driving me crazy. I'm always missing make up or clothes or jewelry, sometimes i find it in her room and take it back but some stuff i cant find and she carries around her make up (my make up) with her and never doesnt have her bag with her. I can't take it anymore, im going insane. Ive tried talking to her about it several times, i dont feel comfortable living in my own apartment. my stuff is always missing. She straight lies about it when i ask her, shes completely taking advantage of me and i dont know how to stop it. Please, some advice here would be great. I live with her, so a big blow out would just make things even worse. help me please. its really driving me nuts. i think about it all day, its been going on for months and now everytime a friend asks to borrow anything i freak out. she's a psycho stealer and liar yet shes also my roommate and friend, one that i am growing extremely resentful towards, but friend nonetheless.
Sunday, January 24th, 2010
7:12 am
In the light of darkness: A case for an alcohol state
Take away love, take away peace, take away sanity, take away joy, take away life, take away hope, all i beg of you is to give me truth. This is my final assertion, the ultimate resolve of a questionable hypothesis, the prevailing thought of a revered principle, the central thesis of an illusive question. Of all the intrinsic values that define humanity, truth should be defended in the highest esteem.

We are all actors and actresses. Indoctrinated zombies playing to the script. One can argue that manners, etiquette, protocol, customs, propriety, etc are all mechanisms that have actively served in propagandizing the greater human populace and creating an astonishing race of androids. However, that once in while, we see human beings under the influence of external substances that instigate them to completely throw caution to the wind. At that time you see man in all his barbaric splendor. Dancing around, puking, saying "hey man" to everybody ten million times in a row, doing everything against the dictates of the laws of propriety ... But at that point, in spite of all the physical "craziness", this is when we are truly human. No more actors, no more fakes and no more zombies.

Take away all the characteristics that give man any kind of intrinsic value, just give me truth. take away the zombies, the fakes and the actors, give me the drunks and the stoners. Despite all that "craziness", at least we can finally be human. So when our livers and lungs have collapsed right before we turn 30, let it be on the record that we died human and not zombie. So yea give me an alcohol state.
Tuesday, January 12th, 2010
8:22 pm
"The Perfect Exhale"
"The Perfect Exhale"

Stumbling out into a fairly lit hallway
dotted with different colored doors marking every few feet

You're tired and so very exhausted
seeking out a quiet place to hang your head
and shut your eyes away from the glances
Is it possible to find such a place?

You find a door in the corner
you walk into a dimly lit room thinking you're alone
but what is THIS that you see inside
somebody barely visible, barely there
in even darker shadows than you were in just a moment ago

And then you see her almost as clearly now as it was dark
a person there, or at least you think it's a person
sighing silently
one eybrow lifted and her head tilted slightly to the right
her lips are pressed tightly in a pale line
she is audibly breathing through her nose, exhasperated

She wants to scream out loud
but her eyes slowly cast downward and her eyebrows furrow

She wishes that everything didn't have to matter so much
she wishes that she couldn't feel so much
for once, just get through a day or an hour without having anything matter
but she can't, not as long as she keeps wanting to matter to everything around her

So tired of having to have the answers to everything just right
always needing it all to be everything or nothing
black and white thinking

Or perhaps with the absence of these thoughts
there wouldn't be turmoil, therefore left to her own self
to truly realize her fears and weaknesses
such things unacceptable to her

Could it possibly mean the prospect of finally having the peace and quiet
she could be left to her own ways of dealing
the very thing she might really crave could shatter her to pieces forever

For the perfect Exhale
she would need to take in a great big inhale of life
the way it really is
and not how it is interpreted in her head
Saturday, December 26th, 2009
3:10 am
Mind Confined: I don't contain my mind, it contains me...
I've always felt that my Mind was my worst enemy.

Its always left me in doubt, always leaves me with questions.

People say I think too much...

Its a bad habit yet bad habits are hard to break.


I wish I could be free.

Free from questioning.

Free from confinement.

Free from all this madness that goes on in my head.


Because the more longer I stay in this prison.

The more MAD I become.

The more crazy I become.

The more afraid I become.


I'm scared for myself.

Because I don't know if I control my mind, or my mind controls me.


There is no heart! Only the mind...

There is no feeling! Only thinking...

There is no freedom! Only imprisonment...

There is no "now"! Only the future...

There is no love! Only isolation...

There is no forgiveness! Only conflicts...

There us no contentment! Only regret..


I can't keep moving forward, when my mind keeps pushing me back.

I can't move freely, when my mind keeps building barriers.

I can't love, when my mind keeps hating.

I can't go to sleep, when my mind keeps me awake.


“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” Mawlana Jalal Ud-Din Rumi

Current Mood: awake
Tuesday, December 22nd, 2009
3:00 am
i've sinned and stole, weakened my bones
faith in humanity and personality
the realness is slipping, accelerating
amidst the blissful minutes, taking in
the hurt, the heartbreak
dumbed yourself down
as you'd bike through the town, talking only to yourself
counting clouds, feel like drowning
autumn red her eyes i need
one reckless night of promiscurity
Monday, December 14th, 2009
1:54 pm
Becoming Miranda
She had always depended on the kindness of others to get by.
Looking back on how far she had come, and where she was now...
she didn't think she could keep going on this way.
Or if she should!

Miranda never thought of herself as someone in control, of anything!
She was never the person she wanted to be, although at times she was everything else.
A child, sister, friend, lover, wife, mother, supporter, comforter, cook, maid, chauffeur, nanny, secretary, helper, worker, martyr, and follower.
She could do anything and did everything, except what she wanted to do.
Be the person she was meant to be. And even though that was all she could think about, she couldn't remember who that person was any more!

Somehow, thru all the years of being there for others, sacrificing so others could chase their dreams, her dreams were put on hold. She always thought that her time would come and she could live her dream.
But now it seems that time has past her by...

Now she was just Miranda!
Dependable, helpful, caring, supporting, sacrificing Miranda!
And she didn't want to be that person any more!
But that's who she was. And so it seems...all she would ever be!

Miranda wasn't even her real name!
It was just a name she had given herself as a child.
A child with big hopes and dreams! A future!
But it seemed like her hopes and dreams were too big for a small child,
at least that's what everyone told her.
So she would become Miranda, someone who was smart and strong and could do anything and everything. As Miranda she could make dreams come true.
Not just her dreams, but she could help others make their dreams happen.

And so it started. She started calling herself Miranda. At first others thought it was odd, even for a child. But soon it would catch on.
First her friends, then her family and soon she had everyone calling her Miranda. After weeks and months as Miranda, no one would refer to her by her real name any more, only Miranda.

Miranda, the girl who would make dreams come true.

And so it began...
A little girl, with big dreams.
Became a woman, with big dreams.
Who could always find a way to make things happen.
And could makes dreams come true.
For anyone, and everyone....

but herself!
Saturday, December 12th, 2009
3:19 pm
The weather has been a topic that everyone's been bitching about, at least around here...and it hasnt even gotten that bad yet. I'm part of the ones who fallen between the cracks that can't drive, don't talk to too many people and has no faith in changing my ways. My birthday was nothing special, in fact it was a boring normal night for me. Now that I can drink legally I only foresee myself hiding out more and more...unless something good happens soon. I mean Fuck! These last 3 years have not been great and all I want is another chance,another shot to prove to people that I can be an active member of society and be the life of the party and be comfortable approaching girls but once you've fucked up so royaly as I have, it becomes hard to stop the downward spiral that drags you in and pulls you to te devil's lair, bringing you to do things you'd never think of doing. I need love and family support and friends but instead I seek comfort in smoking, drinking, abusing prescription medications. Will I learn??
Friday, December 4th, 2009
11:54 am
On the spot 17
Ride cement banks down to the riverbed
dried up branches, decomposing fish

The lobby's full and their patience wearing thin
a blackened belle reading old issues of Cosmopolitan

Starting last but cut in line
chattering secretarys boast and whine
backwards talking backwards crimes
a sign of these declining times

float back when the sky has wept
stereo on, you're swimming laps
those drugs you loved curtly dismissed
crying in stairwells, drunk and pissed
Thursday, December 3rd, 2009
11:34 am
On the spot 16
Okay so what i like to do sometimes when I'm writing is to just write and do not go back to edit or make the poem better. Its kind of like jazz/jamband inspired poetry. I call it On The Spot. Try it out. Yo+ even get better and better.

these thoughts reside inside my head
point me in wrong directions
guess we'll just setttle for the fifth
guess their the captain of my ship

after the horizon, bells and mud
drums and pot and reggae dub
happy clouds cover the sky
our innoncence was walking by

made a right, a wrong, a left
for dead in December
last year, I was sick
still am, fumbling
using a nail to dig my hole
shaped the rest like dripping phantoms
where we go we trip and hurt
Sunday, November 29th, 2009
3:05 pm
Not Me
Look for me somewhere I have not been
Listen to what I didn't say
Follow me to a place I would never go
Read what I didn't write
Give me answers to questions I won't ask
Take what I don't have to give
Hear what I didn't say
Buy what I am not selling
Find something I didn't lose
Wake me up when I am not asleep
Finish what I haven't started
Destroy what I haven't built
Catch what I didn't throw
Return what I didn't give
Deny me what I don't ask
Find what I didn't hide
Accept what I didn't offer
Pick me up when I am not down
Return what I haven't sent
Finish what I didn't start

Only then will you get to know who I really am...

Or maybe someone else you'd like even more!
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