Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Shakespeare, again

William Shakespeare - Sonnet #138

When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth suppress'd.
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O, love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told:

Therefore I lie with her and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be.

We all love some Shakespeare

My Mistress eyes
Sonnet 130
William Shakespeare

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Poe :)

 It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea. 

Monday, December 6, 2010


“Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.” -St. Augustine

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Yet again, something my sister wrote.

Simple things.
Slow down.
Thinking too fast.
Do we value things worth being valued?
We eat and sleep and occasionally give away a smile.
Here and there we laugh.
We all have dreams and long for something.. something that we know we’ll never have, or could we but we’re just too scared?
But do we really live?
And if so, how could one tell?
Everyone has their own idea of what it means to live.
Is it being daring... living life on the edge?
Is it love? True love. Those words are so familiar, yet so uncommon.
Is it learning –  knowledge at it’s best?
Do we have to be deprived of something necessary to truly understand what it is we’re missing?
Death is the opposite of living, is it not? And yet we feel more alive than ever when we see it.
Tangled thoughts are spinning round and round. They become more confusing than before. Questions are answered with questions and finally, when I seem to understand – when I finally have that thought provoking question answered, then, well, it just arises more questions.
We are a nation of accusers. We judge those because they don’t perform the way we do. We esteem a person with knowledge of books greater than another because he’s learned to live without books. Children are forced to find their cliques according to what they’ve been taught. But how often is it that the rich kid is the one to commit suicide – the one that supposedly had it all? 
Carpe Diem, right? Seize the day. It’s a good thought. All those things that we want to do – but we’ll only go as far as seeing it through our mind’s eye. Read a book, explore, listen, think amazing thoughts, dream big and make your dreams a reality. You like her? Well, go for her. Rejection isn’t such a big price to pay for vs. the price of thinking of what might have been. You want to travel to another country? Do it. You only have one life. Live it. Eat something strange. Smell something new. Learn all about why grass is green. Don’t worry about what others think about you. Screw what they think. Breathe fresh air. Drink coffee. Call your mom and tell her you love her. Dye your hair pink. Walk up to a stranger and say "how about lunch?" Don’t look back at your life and think of all you could have been and what would have happened if you did something differently. Listen to the legacy of those now sleeping in the graves. They’re telling you to do something magnificent. Make your life something to be talked about by others. Influence those around you to be something. We are a generation of dreamers full of potential. Everyone screams at us to dream big but them when we decide to do something we are discouraged by those same people. Block them out. Go against the flow. Make your voice louder then the rest. Live. Carpe Diem. Seize this day. Not the next day. Today. Forget about the stereotyped pricks who think everyone has to be the same. Break out from all that. Let’s dance in the rain, not because people tell us we should, but because we want to.

Distinguished hope of a dying benevolence from a (not so) ingenious mind.

 It's late. I felt like a superficial smile all day that walked around with a stale sense of interest in others. There is something about that one-dimensional world I find myself wandering in so often that causes me long for a real and certainly more interesting place of an unrefined present and the idea of an unwritten future.   

I feel an added sense of well being as I untie the knots in my brain that have accumulated throughout the day and begin to wonder how I could be so …dense.
What if I could tempt myself with the idea that I am mildly altruistic? That a part of my being is left untouched and I am not altogether a listless derivative of mankind. My degenerate mindset causes me to drift from thought to thought like a nomadic machine, programed to allow escape from the organic truth and enter into a world of obtuse and simple thoughts where I am the sovereign, drowning any hope of raw happiness. We are all prodigies at the hypnotization of our own minds.
But now, here I am, breaking the spell and entering into analytic stimulation. My biased animosity crumbles with apparent difficulty. I am captivated, no longer the sovereign and unrestrained by the cognitive limits that I had previously placed over myself. I no longer see things, at least for this short moment, so egocentrically as I did before.
I attempt to exfoliate the thick shell of shallow thinking I have grown so accustomed to and find traces of a carbonated, vibrant, and partially philanthropic self beyond the monochrome skin. What lies deep within my mind, passed the chapped surface, is a surprisingly constructive humanly individual. Though awfully tainted by imperfection, hope shines through. I am alive.
(I incessantly find myself lost in thought when adjustments need to be made in my life. I am, even now, provoked by change. Things happen, positives turn into negatives, circumstances change, and at times it's as if life itself seems to take a different course – all for better or worse.)
I want to sink into effervescence and away from the illusion of security I convinced myself of having, away from partiality and into fidelity. The world isn't so cumbersome after all.
Helen Keller said, "Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing." Brilliant words.
I don't want to live as a non-essential part of the world. This is my life, my world. Every facet of my being adds to the element of life as a whole. I want to show unsophisticated devotion; I want to learn how to think indispensable thoughts and show extraordinary characteristics of a human mind hand crafted from God's own image. I want a bright future, just like everyone else, but what about beyond that? What about changing the world? Is that such an impossible thought? I've learned to have such a passive and benign mindset and I'm tired of it. I want invigoration. I want to feel anger, happiness, sorrow, love. I have such a callow and derisory way of thinking and I want to be free of it. Give me an intense anticipation of the inevitable future. I am ready for any dark surprise, any hopeless love, any... anything. Entertain my thoughts with stellar values. Show me something to believe in.
- Bethany Palmer
 (my sister)