I hate knowing and I hate you

I know what you’re doing now

I know how you smell

How you smile and start the scheme

I hate knowing and I hate you

 

You’ve sent everybody away

You’ve shut every curtain

I know how you moan and groan

I hate knowing and I hate you

 

You’re hiding like a rat

You’re hitting, pounding and pulsing

I know how you sweat…how you act

I hate knowing and I hate you

 

Those tears that burn my skin

Are rolling from a fountain of hurt

It’s the jealous woman tapping on scream beat

I hate your sweat, my fountain, the pulse and heat…

 I hate knowing

Series of long breath notes

I breathe midnight bitterness..

After watching a super heart aching movie , it’s hard to find anything but bitterness down my throat..
It’s hard to believe that who would steal bread is not a thief..even though he’s starving to death!
It’s hard to believe that who is holding a bloody knife is no killer..even though he was defending his life!
And it’s sure hard to believe that who is damn horny is no bitch..even though she’s madly in love!
All of that is nonsense..what is really hard is to see the naked truth then weep the lie you’ve thrived for..you’ve painted with your smiles and tears..
They call it human mistake..i call it..lame lame loosing.
And to choose to be a looser when you’re fully aware of the consequences is mere stupidity..
And if there is anything i truly hate in my life..it’d be stupidity..
So,being smart is being strong..and let the warrior in me rise and burn that heart of mine under my own feet..
Not worth the pain!

I breathe Influenced art..

Well, yeah, That easy slick writer Influenced me with all his talk about love…astonishing how in The Zahir he refered to every fling as Falling in love…Paulo Coelho is great because he’s simple… and because i could’t understand falling 8 or 9 times in love while trying to get over ” LOVE ” won’t contradict the fact that he’s good.
I’m sure I’ll be posting this someday although now I’m in no mood for anything in this whole nasty world..Although I doubt that reading one more book of his would be any good…very few special things succeed to stay interested if repeated…and his style isn’t!
looking at my nails hitting the letters while I’m writing this now tells me I’ve grown claws again..sweet little angel who has a hobby of being kicked in the but simply because she fails to see anything but what she wants and desires to see..is that stupid or what?!!
Well..i wish there was any other way but choosing from two options..either to be the evil cold hearted bitch or the sweet kicked little..mmm..i guess bitch too..
Maybe wanting to be one thing is as draining as being nothing at all..people can live all their lives never knowing what kind of jerks they were..the question is..are they really OK with either crocked souls..or is it a big fat act??
Behind the glassy eyes and soft toned voices lies natures as variant as all colours,shades and scents of the world..
And my colours are amongst them no doubt about that..
Back to Paulo…his beauty lies in understanding his complicated nature simply!
Do i know mine?..yes..i do..do i agree with it and accept it??hell no
But why is that missy, i must ask?

Is it because you’ve been stepped on by people you loved because of that nature? is it because you wanted what seems simple to ask while the world laughed at the impossibility of its existence? or is it because you still want what you seem to be doomed for starving for all your life?
Too many questions..with dry..shattered answers that will never feed your knowledge.
So,
Better loose all interest in human kindness..gentleness and emotions are vanished except in fairy tales..
Frozen madame..that’s what you should be..and Hat Tip to you Coelho!

I breathe revolution now..

Upon myself mainly..the inner pride is aching to float to the surface of my mind and take over  control..steering my heart away from ruling now..as the last mentioned ruined it for me..
Never thought I’d be like this..this crazy and persistent to claim what i will not have because I simply  was too proud to see that what i loved is no good for me!
A slap on the face was more than enough to awaken the wild ego in me..and the word ENOUGH is putting an end to my version of converting what I’ve always referred to as ” Making love ” into what is called by loveless hearts ” Fuck of the century”
Damn you cruel heart..
Damn me..weak heart..