A horrendous mess has been left in my wake. How did i do it? I didn’t mean to. I hate that someone has to clean it up now and i pray that it’s not going to be me.
waking up in the morning. tired
work
cigarette and a cup of tea
getting dressed
lame people at work
lots of food and smoking and pepsi to pass the time
bbming with my friends
cant wait till its 6 pm to leave
a funeral. final resting party where people congregate and sometimes talk about the dead, otherwise they eat and get drunk. I’d much rather not have alcohol at my wake, just reminiscing about me.
The mover within
Stands beside itself
Awake to his multiplicity
No longer swinging to every whim
While the others beckon
For him to move aside
They chant
“let men be men and let the children remain behind”
He musters the first part
Of a well thought thought
But the ending is lost
Swallowed up
By remenants of a false start
The aftermath; things left behind, displaced, or changed because of the gravity of events that came before them. A place where people and fates ride out the metamorphosis life puts on them.
i already wrote about wake but guess i will again since i can’t go back to sleep. sometimes waking is good other times it’s just ok and some times it’s absolutely terrible.
Giood morning,when you wake up I hope you realize that turning 50 is one of the greatest things that ever happened to you:Happy 50th birthday my friend:-)
by i bet you think this song is about you on 01.13.2011
“One World.” When i think of that I think of the cafe on the corner near our local University. I love that place. It’s really hippie and they have great vegetarian dishes. They also have a bar, which is more useful now that I’m 21. I used to love this place even more, but an ex took me there one time to get coffee. I paid. That’s how cheap and useless he was. I always paid…
We went there just recently for the Meeting of the Families, an epic occurrence in History. My fiance’s family and my own met for the first time.
I could include some Bob Marley-ish lyrics….But I won’t. That’s what immediately comes to my mind when I hear “One World.”
Good luck to all the Peace Fighters and Bob Marley’s out there. I’ll just eat my falafel and sip my coffee.
Namaste
There was nothing I could do – it was slowly pulling me into the wake. And the funny thing about the entire incident was that I could not remember, not for even a split second, why I had woken up this morning to do such a foolish thing as I now see. My fingers were trembling and I couldn’t hold onto much of anything – myself, reality, the feeling of life. I was just drifting ferociously without a sound.
When I wake I realize that the day before opens up and new possibilities emerge. I think that I can start anew and try to learn lessons from the day before. Sometimes I feel that when I run into the old traps of previous days that I am weak and that I did not learn anything from the previous days that I was awake.
i wake everyday wondering when i will get to sleep again. I wake from restlessness and unease, and my body longs for more like a thick steak. I want to bury my face in my bed. All day. Hold the A1.
I don’t wake from a deep slumber, or dream of faraway lands ruled by kings and queens. I sit in my room, in the dark and prey for light to come through my window. While the dreading sense of reality sets in.
I awake. There are sound about me. What are they? I can’t tell if it’s real or fake anymore…. they all just blur together like a fuzzy old TV set. Am I even alive anymore? Everyday it’s the same thing. I go to work, I come home. Sleep? Do I even sleep? Of course I do… every human doies… but then again, who knew if I were even human anymore.
I don’t want to wake up in this dark bedroom with places to go and people to please. I want to wake up somewhere clean and natural, not dirty and crowded. I want to walk outside and appreciate the morning.
“wake up in the morning feeling like P Diddy! ”
-kesha, song.
I usually wake up pretty late in the morning, usually at around 11 or something. waking up is no easy job! ask me, who has to be up and about at 6 on usual working days :)
the dawn breaks
and my heart begins to pound….
if only?….
the edges of my soul as you run
the pieces that are left as i fly away from what was
i feel so alone sometimes
i feel so ragged
When I wake in the morning, it’s all downhill from there. I wish I was kidding. There’s no way I can top 8 hours of a quiet mind. It’s sad but hey, it gives me something to work towards. Enjoying life for once. That’s all I want to do.
The wake was a sad affair, Ricky thought. A bunch of drunken old men and babbling women, each trying to get their claws on what little money the dearly departed had left.
Portia arrived at the wake in an ostentatious hat with dyed-black peacock feathers sprouting out of it. Not for her the quiet widow routine. If he hadn’t died, she thought, I
In the wake of the previous day, I spanned my conciousness to provide for me a new sense of sensabilities. A new sense of priorities. A new way of blazing a path before me, leaving a wake of conciousness and
When I went to Mrs Oliver Conway’s wake I was not in the best of moods – for one thing it was a long way to go for someone who had caused so much grief – and that was when she was alive, but the other was that I knew my wife and daughter of the dead woman would get talking to cousins and neices and grteat aunts and third uncles and I would not have anything in common with them. Were they too common for me? Was I just not socialble – was this something that I am not programmed for. Am I too English?
Nothing like the – well not quite fun – but absolute revelling in the moment that she and her relatives, however distant and distaff seemed to enjoy.
No Wakes were clearly not my thing. But family needs supporting – especially as this was the woman that raised the woman I love and whom is the mother of my children.
Wakes I thought were an excuse to drink – though in this case it was tea.
i wake every single morning thankful for what i have been given in my life. I could not ask for more than my family. My daughter is the meaning of everything good and wonderful and gorgeous in this world full of ugly and hurtful things. She makes me smile when I feel like crying,
I wake up every evening, with a big smile on my face. I wake in the morning, I wake in the evening. I try to be a night owl, as the sun gives me headaches. I love to wake my love up from his waking sleep. No matter the time or place. Wake me up, when September ends. Green Day. Love. Times up.
Everytime I wake…there’s the same person I see first thing in the morning that greets me good morning despite the silence. His peaceful eyes serves as my own warm sun.
in the morning. in the middle of the night. usually thinking of you. i wish i could make that time last forever. i wish you were there with me. if only i could remember more dreams. if only they made more sense or inspired me in a new way. i wish my room wasn’t so cold when i woke up. these things need to change. good morning. why did i stop writing?
Waking up under a clear blue sky, lying on the dessert. There I lay, not moving, not doing anything, definitely not on Facebook. Taking the moment in, enjoying the beauty of the moment, fully appreciate my life because I am lying there. Having a wonderful time.
many times i thought i was sleeping wrapped in some kinds of endless dreams. the realms i saw were mundane and dull, just like life has been, it is and it will be. but, for a certain feeling, i felt scared.
scared as if lucifer and his fallen brothers were sighing among me, and there were no seraphs to wake me away. the nightmare always ended unfinished, and when i opened my eyes i always felt tired. many times i thought i was sleeping in some kinds of endless dreams.
to wake is to realize the extent that one can live their life. to be truly grateful for what we have. too many people will not ever experience being able to wake in their lives, and for this their lives are incomplete. to wake is to be complete, to be fulfilled.
When I wake up every day, way later than I really should, I think about nothing. I know I should be thinking about something. Something important. Like how I need to get to work or take care of my kids. But I have no job and no kids. So I wake up. I pee. I log onto the computer and check my email, dreading the dad email. Wondering when the next lecturing and batch of guilt will come.
the human in you
it’s time for you as a human to wake up
A horrendous mess has been left in my wake. How did i do it? I didn’t mean to. I hate that someone has to clean it up now and i pray that it’s not going to be me.
waking up in the morning. tired
work
cigarette and a cup of tea
getting dressed
lame people at work
lots of food and smoking and pepsi to pass the time
bbming with my friends
cant wait till its 6 pm to leave
a funeral. final resting party where people congregate and sometimes talk about the dead, otherwise they eat and get drunk. I’d much rather not have alcohol at my wake, just reminiscing about me.
The mover within
Stands beside itself
Awake to his multiplicity
No longer swinging to every whim
While the others beckon
For him to move aside
They chant
“let men be men and let the children remain behind”
He musters the first part
Of a well thought thought
But the ending is lost
Swallowed up
By remenants of a false start
I woke up this morning, smiled at the rising sun, 3 little birds pitched by my doorstep.
And then I actually woke up. It was cold, still dark out, and my roommates naked self was right in my face. I think I’m moving to Jamaica.
The aftermath; things left behind, displaced, or changed because of the gravity of events that came before them. A place where people and fates ride out the metamorphosis life puts on them.
i already wrote about wake but guess i will again since i can’t go back to sleep. sometimes waking is good other times it’s just ok and some times it’s absolutely terrible.
Giood morning,when you wake up I hope you realize that turning 50 is one of the greatest things that ever happened to you:Happy 50th birthday my friend:-)
“One World.” When i think of that I think of the cafe on the corner near our local University. I love that place. It’s really hippie and they have great vegetarian dishes. They also have a bar, which is more useful now that I’m 21. I used to love this place even more, but an ex took me there one time to get coffee. I paid. That’s how cheap and useless he was. I always paid…
We went there just recently for the Meeting of the Families, an epic occurrence in History. My fiance’s family and my own met for the first time.
I could include some Bob Marley-ish lyrics….But I won’t. That’s what immediately comes to my mind when I hear “One World.”
Good luck to all the Peace Fighters and Bob Marley’s out there. I’ll just eat my falafel and sip my coffee.
Namaste
muzzy fuzzy eyes and oh dear the 06.45 train, warm Alison beside me, oh well; that lovely smell of baking bread from the machine in the kitchen
Every morning I hear the sound of the alarm clock, and I thank God that I’m still alive. :-)
There was nothing I could do – it was slowly pulling me into the wake. And the funny thing about the entire incident was that I could not remember, not for even a split second, why I had woken up this morning to do such a foolish thing as I now see. My fingers were trembling and I couldn’t hold onto much of anything – myself, reality, the feeling of life. I was just drifting ferociously without a sound.
I wake in the darkest hours of the night. Red and yellow dust settle around my room, as I wake from the deepest dreams.
When I wake I realize that the day before opens up and new possibilities emerge. I think that I can start anew and try to learn lessons from the day before. Sometimes I feel that when I run into the old traps of previous days that I am weak and that I did not learn anything from the previous days that I was awake.
i wake everyday wondering when i will get to sleep again. I wake from restlessness and unease, and my body longs for more like a thick steak. I want to bury my face in my bed. All day. Hold the A1.
I have to wake up very, very soon. It is now 2:33am and I need to wake by 6am. That means I will get very little sleep. Bummer…
I don’t wake from a deep slumber, or dream of faraway lands ruled by kings and queens. I sit in my room, in the dark and prey for light to come through my window. While the dreading sense of reality sets in.
The wake was a jolly affair with whiskey drunk by all the old lads and friends of the dead man.
I awake. There are sound about me. What are they? I can’t tell if it’s real or fake anymore…. they all just blur together like a fuzzy old TV set. Am I even alive anymore? Everyday it’s the same thing. I go to work, I come home. Sleep? Do I even sleep? Of course I do… every human doies… but then again, who knew if I were even human anymore.
I don’t want to wake up in this dark bedroom with places to go and people to please. I want to wake up somewhere clean and natural, not dirty and crowded. I want to walk outside and appreciate the morning.
“wake up in the morning feeling like P Diddy! ”
-kesha, song.
I usually wake up pretty late in the morning, usually at around 11 or something. waking up is no easy job! ask me, who has to be up and about at 6 on usual working days :)
I wake up this morning, feeling sleepy still because my room mate usually wakes up earlier than me. And so, whe
the dawn breaks
and my heart begins to pound….
if only?….
the edges of my soul as you run
the pieces that are left as i fly away from what was
i feel so alone sometimes
i feel so ragged
When I wake in the morning, it’s all downhill from there. I wish I was kidding. There’s no way I can top 8 hours of a quiet mind. It’s sad but hey, it gives me something to work towards. Enjoying life for once. That’s all I want to do.
When I wake up early at 8am my dog barks.
The wake was a sad affair, Ricky thought. A bunch of drunken old men and babbling women, each trying to get their claws on what little money the dearly departed had left.
Portia arrived at the wake in an ostentatious hat with dyed-black peacock feathers sprouting out of it. Not for her the quiet widow routine. If he hadn’t died, she thought, I
In the wake of the previous day, I spanned my conciousness to provide for me a new sense of sensabilities. A new sense of priorities. A new way of blazing a path before me, leaving a wake of conciousness and
When I went to Mrs Oliver Conway’s wake I was not in the best of moods – for one thing it was a long way to go for someone who had caused so much grief – and that was when she was alive, but the other was that I knew my wife and daughter of the dead woman would get talking to cousins and neices and grteat aunts and third uncles and I would not have anything in common with them. Were they too common for me? Was I just not socialble – was this something that I am not programmed for. Am I too English?
Nothing like the – well not quite fun – but absolute revelling in the moment that she and her relatives, however distant and distaff seemed to enjoy.
No Wakes were clearly not my thing. But family needs supporting – especially as this was the woman that raised the woman I love and whom is the mother of my children.
Wakes I thought were an excuse to drink – though in this case it was tea.
i wake every single morning thankful for what i have been given in my life. I could not ask for more than my family. My daughter is the meaning of everything good and wonderful and gorgeous in this world full of ugly and hurtful things. She makes me smile when I feel like crying,
I wake up every evening, with a big smile on my face. I wake in the morning, I wake in the evening. I try to be a night owl, as the sun gives me headaches. I love to wake my love up from his waking sleep. No matter the time or place. Wake me up, when September ends. Green Day. Love. Times up.
Everytime I wake…there’s the same person I see first thing in the morning that greets me good morning despite the silence. His peaceful eyes serves as my own warm sun.
in the morning. in the middle of the night. usually thinking of you. i wish i could make that time last forever. i wish you were there with me. if only i could remember more dreams. if only they made more sense or inspired me in a new way. i wish my room wasn’t so cold when i woke up. these things need to change. good morning. why did i stop writing?
late, like light. shore silent, no one alone. sleep disturbed. lapped sand. boat solo, nets drag, sleep leaves ribbons trailing
Waking up under a clear blue sky, lying on the dessert. There I lay, not moving, not doing anything, definitely not on Facebook. Taking the moment in, enjoying the beauty of the moment, fully appreciate my life because I am lying there. Having a wonderful time.
many times i thought i was sleeping wrapped in some kinds of endless dreams. the realms i saw were mundane and dull, just like life has been, it is and it will be. but, for a certain feeling, i felt scared.
scared as if lucifer and his fallen brothers were sighing among me, and there were no seraphs to wake me away. the nightmare always ended unfinished, and when i opened my eyes i always felt tired. many times i thought i was sleeping in some kinds of endless dreams.
to wake is to realize the extent that one can live their life. to be truly grateful for what we have. too many people will not ever experience being able to wake in their lives, and for this their lives are incomplete. to wake is to be complete, to be fulfilled.
When I wake up every day, way later than I really should, I think about nothing. I know I should be thinking about something. Something important. Like how I need to get to work or take care of my kids. But I have no job and no kids. So I wake up. I pee. I log onto the computer and check my email, dreading the dad email. Wondering when the next lecturing and batch of guilt will come.
i should still be sleeping. a shower, make up, hair, clothes, work. school. sleep. my days run into each other, i can’t seem to tell a difference.