I like that they made the beat more upbeat. I definitely think this is a better version. The original version was a lil boring and Ludacris part was my favorite. Missy comes on and kills it!!! This is the Missy I like!!!

What ya think?

I’m not used to it.  And I haven’t felt it much.  But I’m hurt.

It’s not anger.  It’s not hate.  I feel betrayed. I feel pathetic.  I feel insulted. Humiliated.   I feel disappointed.

Disappointed in myself.

I feel like a fool.

I’m always in defense, ending with the most tears. In addition to the external tears,  internal tears that freezes up from the ice age depression in my blood,  into icicle spear shards piercing  through my heart.

I’m not direct.

Men are like colonies of bacteria… the more heat you apply, the faster they grow.

I’m being delusional.

It’s not the normal broken heart kind of hurt. I’ve been that kind of brokenhearted more than a hundred times by her already that I’m used to it.

It’s something I can’t explain.  Because then again, I never felt it before.

When someone asks me, who my best friend is, two people come to mind.

I talk to my best friends.  Once a week.  Or even after three months.  But they are closest to the “best friend” rank.

Friendship is discouraged in my family.

Blood is thicker than wine.

The ones who will really be there for you forever, is your family.

Just give her 10 dollars.

I never followed those words.

I gave a 40.

I bought her a bouquet.

I wish I could give him a game.

I never thought friendships hurt.  It’s a reality now.

Traumatized.

My first best friend.  Second grade.  We were partnered up to do a Science Project together.  I was so excited that he would come over to my house.

My mom said no, and to just use my brother’s old science project.

I cried telling him that I have to work on it by myself.

-

Friends I invited over to my house?

I never invited anyone.

They were my brother’s friends.

I’m scared.  I’m scared to tell my parents I have friends.

Having friends would be a big change.

I don’t like change.

I’m weird.  I’m strange. Always have been.

Just a month ago…

You are really socially inept.

It’s still ringing in my ears.

Break me down. Cut me into pieces.  Kill me.

I really hope it satisfies your heart.

People you love hurt you the most.

I fell for it.  And that’s why they call it fall.  Because it’s a trap. I’m falling and there’s nothing I can do to get back up.  I’ll keep falling until I hit the ground.  And when you hit the ground, you get injured. I’ll get injured.  Even more.

I hate being attached. I hate how I’m affected.  I hate not being able to figure it out.  I hate not understanding.  I hate how other people misunderstand.

This is the first time a friendship hurt so much.

I’m avoiding the anger.

Because anger is the last refuge of the pathetic.

Understanding comes first.  And I think I get it.

This is why friendship is discouraged.

I should be smart enough to know that it’s not worth it.

-

I woke up crying today.  It was a premonition to this truth. This realization.

I’m sorry.  I want to say I’m okay.  I want to say that I’ve been okay. But I’m not.

It won’t ever be the same again.

De cateva zile incerc sa scriu, dar nu reusesc.  Ma asez in fata monitorului si simt treptat cum incep sa tremur si sfarsesc prin a tasta cuvinte. Cuvinte aparent lipsite de sens,alese la intamplare…dar care pentru mine ascund in spatele lor o intreaga poveste. Astazi am avut parte de ganduri care s-au vrut a fi mature si rationale, de statistici, probabilitati si procente.  Atunci cand am reusit sa am parte de cateva secunde de liniste am visat…am visat putin,cat sa ma amagesc si mi-am amintit de ziua de ieri…si-au luat nastere in mine alte semne de intrebare…am simtit cum inima mi se face din ce in ce mai mica si am vrut sa plec.  Sa plec fara sa ajung nicaieri.  Sa plec si sa nu ma mai intorc la mine… Azi mi-am reprimat lacrimi. Azi am ras fiindca trebuia sa rad…fiindca o alta eu de acum o saptamana ar fi ras intr-o astfel de situatie…am zambit fiindca trebuia sa zambesc. Am fost rea si imi pare rau…azi m-am comportat controlat,gandindu-mi fiecare reactie; doar in preajma celor familiari nu am tinut cont de acel “trebuie“. Azi m-am mintit cu nerusinare si nu am vrut si probabil nici nu o sa vreau sa accept adevarul.  Stii,  azi nu te-am vazut deloc… Azi - a durut.

Loving yourself can be a hard thing to do when you live with regrets.

For me, the regrets began within the first year of my first marriage.  Maybe even before that.  The way that I lived up to that point in time, allowed me to make what I could look at as a mistake.  My 5 children help me to know that it was meant to be for at least 5  reasons.

I don’t know if I thought of these feelings as regrets at the time.  I just thought I was angry or even briefly upset.  I also thought that I got over it.  I was forgiving.  That helped me.  Looking back, I don’t think I even knew how to deal with my feelings or work out conflicts.  As a born again Christian, I had made a commitment to this relationship and had every faith that God would work out these conflicts, keep me safe and work all of this out for good.  And, this is so!

Don’t get me wrong, I married a fun guy.  We had fun, we had good friends and he seemed to enjoy kids.  All the kids in the neighborhood would flock to our home after school.  We would play games and watch movies and sometimes they would help me with projects in the office.

He would play outside with the kids.  We lived in a trailer park, so we were surrogate parents for some of these boys.  We would even take them on trips with us.  One boy we kept in touch with for years and attended his graduation in another state.

It wasn’t all that bad, but, looking back and knowing what I know now, I wish I had known then about the patterns of abuse that I was experiencing.  It is so easy to see now.  I have struggled with the feeling that I should have known.  I should have made changes sooner.  These thoughts have beat me up and I didn’t even realize that they were there.  Has my desire for change created this revelation or will this revelation allow me to finally move forward in ways that I hadn’t even planned?

I am in a process of growth.  We are all in a process, not everyone is moving forward, but that can change at any time that you decide you want it to.

Loving yourself here and now means you accept the past as unchangeable.  You allow your past to help you grow so you are better now and in the future.  And you turn the regrets into gratitude.  For those experiences you regret are the very ones that have brought you to where you are now and will take you to your next destination.  A much better place.

Happy Thanksgiving!  I am thankful for my past and even more thankful for what lies ahead.

Sharin Luv

Today was so hard because I just know…he would have fit so perfectly.

There is one extra space at our Thanksgiving table. No one notices it except me. But there’s room. Perfect room for one extra chair. One extra heart beating. And he would fit.

  He would sit on the couch and talk to my brothers – they are discussing politics right now.  My mom pulled over in the mountains so I could geocache for a second. We went on an amazing cave tour up in the Springs. He would have loved it.

He could have been here. He could have seen this. He could have sat in the hot springs and gone on the hike and taken pictures of the gorgeous Colorado river literally in my brothers backyard. He could have been a part of my family. They would have loved him. And he would have fit in.

I dreamt about the drive up here…how I would fall asleep on his shoulder, how we would play games in the car and talk about the trees and take pictures.

And on this Thanksgiving Day…I am thankful. I do not regret it one bit. I do not regret him. I do not regret what happened. I don’t regret giving him my heart although he still has it and it hurts like hell trying to make it through life with only pieces of it. But I still don’t regret it. I don’t regret that night I crawled up on his lap and he held me for hours. I don’t regret the time I spent with him or the things I said. I don’t regret that wonderful Tuesday night that I let him steal my first kiss. And my second. And third. And I certainly don’t regret falling in love with him. It hurts really bad somedays… well, actually, a lot of days, and I really wish things wouldn’t have ended the way they did. I wish he would smile when he sees me. I wish we could be friends. I wish he would text me and tell me it’s all okay and he doesn’t hate my guts. I wish his girlfriend could know that I didn’t mean to hurt her and that…somedays…I miss her friendship too.

       Anyways I am thankful that it happened and I wish it wasn’t over. And I know, I just KNOW, it would have been perfect. And for some reason, that gives me some sort of peace.

by Rajdeep D

The first time I saw her was at a computer lab in the university. I was trying to get a free computer to sit at and finish my oh-so-important English assignment. I am sure that I was gaping at her with my mouth open when she walked in with her friend. Somehow, I did manage to close my mouth when she looked my way. “Smooth move player!”, I said to myself rolling my eyes towards the heavens.

Yes, there were times I wanted to go up to her and say “Hi!” or something along that line. I mean, I do have the courage to do that but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. Why? We will come to that later.

The next time I saw her was a week after my gaping incident. I remember she was in the Cafeteria and I was sitting at the table beside hers with my friends. I couldn’t help but look at her. I know, I know, I sound like a teenager. But well, as I said before, I couldn’t help it. A really weird idea came to my head. What if I paid one of the mamas in the Cafeteria and sent a drink (Obviously Mountain Dew or Coke or something. What were you expecting?) to her?

But alas, I couldn’t bring myself to do that either!

Why? I’ll tell you why.

It is not the fear of rejection that bugged me. It is the fear of what she might think of me that bothered me. Let’s face it; we live in a conservative society. She might just think that I am a pervert or worse a “bokhate”. I wouldn’t want that now, would I? We learn what the society teaches us. But, we end being a bunch of hypocrites behind a veil of niceness. We still can’t express how we feel about each other. We are close, yet so far.

I would be happy just being friends with her. Not everything in the world is about scoring a girlfriend or a boyfriend. I do believe that platonic relationships do occur in the real world.

I didn’t see my beautiful stranger ever again after that day. Now I am writing this dismal article expressing my regret.

You know what? If you like someone let them know it. Go to the town !!

Sometimes, it is better to be sorry than safe.

well said.

Loneliness,
like cancer,
grows,
eating at my heart.
love,
the ever elusive cure.

At night,
I feel it growing,
the pain immense.
The cure,
moves,
further from reach,
mocking me as she goes.
The cancer grows,
the pain,
Too much.

I lay me down,
to rest,
at night.
Alone again,
I pray.
Gentle slumber,
and tender dreams,
please,
free me,
from my pain

What am I doing? Certain Someone hasn’t replied. I’m not sure why. Maybe I was too honest. Maybe I scared him. Perhaps he hates me.

This is quite a lonely feeling.

~~~~~

And no more shall we part
It will no longer be necessary
And no more will I say, dear heart
I am alone and she has left me

For no more shall we part
And no more shall we part

Cleanse – Your mind of the dirt and debris we hold on to.  All it does is clog your potential.

Exfoliate – Past mistakes and regret.  Your past does not define you.  Everyday you have the power to choose a different path.

Nourish – Your MIND-BODY-SPIRIT, find breathing space, move your body and surround yourself with people who lift you up in love and support.

While you are busy doing these steps for your skin, take a moment to do the same routine for your soul and get a renewed sense of life.

Have you been regretted something you did so badly and wish if the time could return to fix your regrets?
Long time ago I’ve watched j-drama called “Proposal Daisakusen” that series was amazing!

Iwase Ken and Yoshida Rei have been friends since elementary school. Ken, is obstinate and unskilled in love, but he fell long ago for the lively and cheerful, Rei. But Rei is about to get married to another man. While Ken and other friends from high-school attend the wedding ceremony, a fairy appears and sends Ken back in time, giving him a second chance to win the girl he loves. *

anyhow,it isn’t the series what I’m talking about ,I’m talking about life regrets ,that boy has another chance to fix his regret, but do we? I mean everyone has regrets or mistakes or wrong decisions and wish if there is a time-machine to go back and fix them.
I’ve regrets,of course, and I want to fix them… for example in high school when I remember that days- some of that days- I feel so sad like when I had to transform to another school I stupidly refuse and let others effect my transformation’s decision I wish I could go back in time to fix them, and I miss teenage I want to live them more I wanna live high school days till the end AGAIN.
But lets face it ..we,human being, do mistakes so we should learn from our mistakes or our “regrets” to not do it again,right? And That is fated we can’t change it, so let’s not be sad over something has happened and let’s live our present and think of bright future

hopefully all of you ppl live your life without any regrets

catch ya soon!

*

Et fuck. Comme prévu, j’ai rien eu le temps de faire ces dernieres semaines. Prenez le manuscrit, il a beau être fini il est toujours truffé de fautes d’orthographes. L’épave de ma Xbox jonche toujours le sol en attendant que je trouve un carton pour la filer au mec d’UPS. Quant au mémoire, et malgré les hurlements de la haute autorité parentale, c’est toujours le point mort. D’ailleurs la dernière fois que je suis passé à l’école j’ai failli attendre la fin du cours de ma directrice de master pour lui dire que j’étais encore vivant. La bonne blague. Tain. Le pire dans tout ça c’est que j’ai même pas l’impression de bosser tant que ça. Vous me direz, tout ça est parfaitement normal. Puis là, ce week-end, j’ai réalisé un truc. Aujourd’hui, c’est le dernier lundi que je passe sur Paris d’ici l’année prochaine.

Ouais bon dit comme ça, ça n’a l’air de rien. Mais du coup je suis incapable de me projeter avant janvier. Vendredi matin je rentre sur Lyon et à partir de là, que ce soit boulot, scolairement, artistiquement, socialement, tout est repoussé. Le pire c’est de lutter pour courir après la bande de gens qui vont atrocement me manquer pendant mes espèces de grandes vacances d’hiver. Sans parler des raclures de fourbes qui ne seront même plus là au printemps, entre les stages à l’étranger et whatever. Cinq semaines en vadrouille et je panique déjà. Je suis tellement traumatisé à l’idée de louper quoi que ce soit que c’est à se demander comment je peux faire pour dormir. Toutes ces heures où la planète tourne sans moi. Rien que d’y penser j’ai des débuts de vertige. Un jour je finirai bien par parler de tous ces soucis d’égocentrisme à un psy, mais bon, en attendant, j’ai encore mon blog.

Ah oui d’ailleurs, bonjour l’organisation pour continuer à raconter n’importe quoi pendant que je serai à New-York. Contre toute attente j’envisage plus que sincèrement de m’offrir un petit netbook des familles, que ce soit pour commencer mon nouveau manuscrit dans l’avion, twitter n’importe quoi en taxant les wifis des Starbucks ou surtout mettre à jour la machine bloguesque. J’ai hâte de faire du Photoshop sur un douze pouces. A mon niveau de geek, ça reste vivre dangereusement. Enfin c’était ça ou pleurer ma misère à mon hôte pour checker mes mails. J’ai pas d’argent mais j’ai un minimum de dignité. Puis je pourrai surtout cocher une case sur la longue listes des trucs à faire avant de mourir, entre le plan à trois avec les sœurs Olsen et la figuration dans Bad Boys III, à savoir écrire quelques pages de roman sur un banc à Central Park.

Tout ça pour dire que 2009 sur Paris, c’est fini pour moi. Y’aura des regrets, des embrassades et ptête un œil humide ou deux. Dans tous les cas je devrais repartir avec une deg’ attitude. Ville de merde tiens, quand j’y vais je fais la gueule, quand j’en pars je fais la gueule.

A demain, où on parlera presque de politique.

A response to boxcarman123 on YouTube. Bridge!!

the warrior…

crouched under the shadows of his pliable shield.

the light crystal…

crushed and scattered by the breeze that once calmed this being.

a thin mist of long-forgotten warmth,

lingering from time to time…

There are times when I cope less well. Minutes, days, months, weeks when things are just harder to bear. Like having to send photo’s of my Sons to the mother of the man who killed my daughter, because I am required to do so by Family Court order. Things just spin a little bit out of control at times like these.

My sleep suffers. I have headaches. My immune system crashes. My eczema flares. It is harder to stay in the present. I struggle to focus on day to day tasks. My mind freezes with flashbacks from the past. 

 I think probably it is because so much was hidden from me that now I am constantly searching and asking and checking. Although I have always had a curious nature at times like these it is hard to impossible to keep my curiousity in check.   I love social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter but I do have to say they only feed my quest for information. This week has proved particularly fruitful. I found several estranged family members and cast from my past. So bizarre to see a child of a sibling who I will never meet. To see familiar faces with the realisation they belong to strangers. 

In a way though it makes me feel like no-one can hide from me again. Especially not in plain sight. It also validated decisions I have made to cut people from my life for the sake of our ( mine and my children’s) well being. I did not feel regret or loss. Maybe sometimes looking back helps you to move forward?  

My brother, where are you? I can imagine your pain but I’m careful not to try to envision it in too much detail. I can understand it, you see, but I do not want to experience it. Again. Personally, I mean. My own pain, and my own past – my demons, are not all that far behind me. I do believe, brother, that the darkness we share is rooted in the past that we share. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that our past predestined us to experience similar hardships. Because I do believe that we are individually responsible for ourselves; meaning that we have choices that can either help us rise above, or help to keep us low. I do, however, truly believe that because our wounds are very similar, that the groundwork was laid which made it very likely, if not probable, that we would both experience the same kinds of pitfalls. I love you Vincent. Please come home. You know, don’t you, that you do have a home? It is wherever people love you. It is here, it is with your father, it is with your mother, it is with your daughter, and it is with your sovereign Father; God. There is nothing you could ever do to make us love you less. There is nothing you could ever do to make Him love you less. I’ll always be here for you, and please know that you have already been forgiven. I know you’re hurting, I know you’re scared, I know you’re lonely. I’ve been there – in the very dark places, in the very small places, trying to run, trying to hide, and trying to forget – all that I’ve done, all that I haven’t done. Please brother… please come back to us.  Please God, and I pray to you now my sovereign Father; please bring my brother back to us. Please send slivers of light and love to illuminate his path and to give him warmth. Please shower his everything with your light and love – in such a way that he cannot navigate away from you. Please, God, insure that a little of you is always in him, and that a little of us is always  with him. Amen

Brother, please hear me. Please come back.

Lovingly and in His name,

your brother Michael

11-23-09

A need to escape

from my floods of distrust

Betray my one illusion

A chain of golden rust

Ignorance is a dream

and I long so much to sleep

But the echos still summon us

and I long so much to leap

-Into that mirage

where I hope that I’ll survive

A chance to find its meaning

My heart’s desperate revive

A need to escape

seems so selfish, too bold

So I’ll be that poster person

full of regret when I’m old

Today’s Spam

Sometimes, it can drive a person to acts of nobility. Sometimes, it can drive a person to acts of sheer stupidity.  Imagine someone determined to beat a run time.  Imagine that person being so determined, so stubbornly against quitting, that they ignored signs that their body couldn’t handle it.  Depending on the circumstances, that person could wind up in a hospital.  Of course, that’s somewhat of an extreme example.  If said person is trying to beat a run time, chances are they’re already conditioned to run.

I digress.

Determination being stupid usually deals in long-term plans.  Say, something that takes place over a year.  You commit to a goal, and you pursue it, refusing to stray no matter what happens.  If you can do that, awesome.  I don’t pull it off to often personally.  Recently, I did commit to something, though, and it came back and bit me in the a**.  I realized that after I’d finished, I’d been so committed to the goal, that I forgot why I was doing it.  Now I regret it.  My only hope, really, is to figure out what the original plan was, and hope that redeems me somehow.

Anyways.

I’ll see if I can think of something creative to post later on in the week.  Maybe I’ll be really cliche and post a turkey, or a pilgrim, or something.

Today’s Thought:

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