My Teeth are Gems

Now that I know I am not blind?
A love elluding to the same hyporisy;
I do not:
care about.
I expect to enjoy;
where the wind blows.
Its pressing needs.
Undertaking the task
of no voluntary withdrawal.
My spirit is alive and well!
My dental work is flawless.
My floss is to benefit.
Talent wise my lips of fire and ice.
That perfect identity,
I have made intentionally.
A tent pitched beneath a sky filled with stars.
Provocative stoic.
I lied about the
truth.
You hate me because
I'm beautiful.

Quality Weight Picked

To see me cry
is no way to be,
sad about nothing.
Volunteer.
I know.
I volunteer my awareness.
I know not what makes
you look bad.
Is hardly worth it.
There is something to be
said for this affiliation
of wisdom I have
had.
Open up to me -
show me how.
What I feel.
Addicted to my lifetime of
such carefully placing selection for:
to execute, achievment, and excellence.
I look to where the time has gone.
The past, I love myself much more better than before.
As I raise my standards higher then afraid or frightened of.
Through and through.
Changes.
No paradise found, - not lost in the fear of it.
My many decisions are made. . . were best.
I'll tell
you what not
to do as you
should trust
me now.
I, to act as
though knowing of
unbreakable threads
or unspeakable acts
of parished habit.
I'm stuck but not moving
up nor down,
going nowhere
sunk in air-tight volume.
Tempted, that I pause and
reflect for something
new, exciting, and
outgoing spread with
intrigue.

A Desperate Withdrawal: The Gypsy Alternative

This romance is non-refundable.
Feeling the fear to do it anyway.
A stone-cold sensitivity;
of a misfortune told.
That I took my attention
undivided upon.
Not unrequited of condition
or bribery sought: strayed
in mustard sauce.
Stacked, busted,
turned loose -
apprehended in thought of
panic.
Packed with anxiety.
I haven't lost my touch.
Confirmed and conformed
as a safe individual
fallen sound asleep
a night.
Do not weep for the
assassin, but only
because of the
protective condescending
voice.
No less ignorant than that like
a hotdog strayed in mustard sauce.
Watch me bite!
I bit it whole?
Each morsel followed another
bite, then another. . .
- more and more.
This passion for hunger, -
and my appetite of no false inhibitions.

Bread Made in the History of Mankind

To break free from no irregular humility,
unless the rain it pours in need.
The health of my true character.
Permission never becomes granted
through lives of "the saints".
There is a thin blue:
light - you turn both
on and off.
The flick of a-switch is there!
That I refuse
to cut myself short; -
over fascism?
Like the request for a weather vain
pointed in direction
of blue skies.
Testing greed
- taking it back
directly to the
source of opinioned
information.
Each breath I consume
myself, with no lost
sense of self-respecting
nature.
That life is not uninvited.
That life is not made of Alice
in Wonderland "pop up"
fairy tales without the thunder of pouring
rain.
Decensitized endings.
That the tea-party has no end,
in thoughts of cheating thunder.
That life is not made
of Alice in Wonderland
"pop up" fairy tales, decensitized
end in thoughts.
That life is not made
of Alice in Wonderland
"pop up" fairy tales end in death.
My melancholy waltz.
To break free from no irregular humility,
unless it pours rain there is a story.
Decenstized end in thoughts,
that life is not made of Alice in Wonderland
"pop up" fairy tales no end in death.
I save no secrets as I share to generalize
nothing. . . I care about.
Decensitized end in thoughts,
that life is not made
of Alice in Wonderland
"pop up" fairy tales
. . . that unless it pours rain for.
No secrets I will save with the size of
King Kong in the rain.
I will save no secrets with King Kong,
disguised wearing a fake beard and glasses.
The sights and sounds of feeling rain drops,
pour down on me
as they are dripping wet beaded off
the bridge of my nose-tip.
A perfect storm of clouds.
I will save no secrets,
of cheating thunder for the rain.
I do not believe in fairy-tales,
Alice in Wonderland "pop-up" art
without it raining.
Nothing is there.
There is nothing.
There is nothing there.

Off The Record: A narrated joke

10 cents for the next
sequence of events,
is to be placed
into the tin can
seated next to me?
Cling-clank!
Culture without a plumber;
is like life without:
the cookie-jar.
I have found new meaning;
involved?
I'm through without pretending!
My willing explanation -
a big-wet-white
lie.
This fabulous sense
of humor that provokes
interest, persuades, and
convinces me.
A polite - pleasant - smile.

On my horse. . . because I feel sad

Maturity has always been an issue for me. I suppose that is the truth? However, as I admit how time has been since I wrote my previous entry. I believe as I approach the age of 30 - have my beliefs changed? What influence do I have now that I've transformed into who I am today?

Perhaps, I dug myself a hole. A hole so deep, the test was to get back out of it? Perhaps, my only refuge was to bury the deepest parts of me and uncover them in seclusion - which lead to my serious bout of depression - and the walls around me were to shield how insecure I became. Isolation was not the answer!

Through all of this I am still alive. However, I did not bury my spirit. With my spirit I refused to give up.

What worried me most of all, is through the age of 20-present where has the time gone? (Which refers to my previous entry titled: 'Role-model'. . . ).

Certainly, my mind-body-spirit connection is essential for me. What this comes down to - is giving myself credit. How far I've come means something. Which is what everything I questioned in this message boils down to. I cannot forget that.

Dr. Gordon taught me about being a better 'horse-rider', and how I've fallen - whether it be making mistakes - or emotionally. I suppose this is one of those times, especially due to my habit of beating myself up - or changing the negative thoughts that affect how I feel impact me personally.

Tanya has noticed how I make decisions effect her as well.

I believe I can make the necessary solutions with courage, I cared to generalize most of what I feel here. These are not 'solutions' per se, but help me define some of what this means. It's self-talk. A method of healing-therapy. Again, as I already mentioned, something Dr. Gordon gave me advice on. To reienforce my positive thoughts as I regard facing my negative thoughts.

I've been doing is what develops into more and more progress being made. That's the most important thing.

I really enjoyed Christmas with Tanya this year, and she's planned to involve me in her Traditional Ukranian Christmas celebrations. She also begins her job in the new year with Carpathia Credit Union come 2007!

In every respect, this year has been hard. My aunt passed away, and her birthday was Decemeber 26. I graduated from university - 2006.

Recently, we had Christmas at home. I found out about a wedding engagement. Part of the problem is how my maturity plays a part in the picture. When I stop and think honestly about myself, I find, how despite my feelings toward the person(s) engagement. . . I am happy for them. I also feel, despite my feelings, I'm not perfect per se. However, the Christmas I had this year means little with the loss of my aunt, but my family came together with strength and compassion. The other side to this being neglect that I felt from the person(s) wedding who's mom who was invited to spend Christmas with us. It seemed apparently awkward. For some reason, this persons who's family we adopted traces back a decade in coming to our house for Christmas-time. Imagine my disappointment to see a person reveal a secret that I would think makes the average person happy to be around. . . but I digress.

The trouble is based not on what I saw but the truth in what I describe reveals much more about what's beneath the layers. I hold back nothing.

Therefore, when I direct my feelings to something, I suppose the wedding being announced was no big deal. What became evident, although in this instance is strictly intuitive, I felt alienated by the person(s) reaction did not make sense to me.

It appeared to me in hindsight, that the reason the person was in attendance had ulterior motives. It was as though, it no longer mattered that my family 'adopted' the people not as strangers. However, it felt totally sureal to me. It became as though the purpose these people were spending Christmas only appeared as orphans, or more like vagabonds announcing that Little Orphan Annie from the musical was adopted into Mr. Warbuck's Estate. It was truly disgusting to bare witness. Instead, with thier idea of Christmas-charity the musical they were invited to attend replaced the original Annie, accordingly behaved as if waiting to hear the evil chorus of, "The Sun Will Come Out. . . Tomorrow, Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow. . . " followed by the Christmas-wish that they'd be on their way because they couldn't wait to visit Daddy Warbucks invasion of abandoned nursing orphans. They had a new home to go to I suppose. Not that ours wasn't built just as good enough, it just conveniently became an afterthought, since some compare living large during the holidays is better in a mansion. Come to think of it, lest we forget the survivors of 'Tsunami.' In retrospect, they decided to behave like nursing-orphans wanting to hear the chrous of, "Tomorrow - Tomorrow I Love You. . . Tomorrow." as if yearning to. That they hardly couldn't wait to see Daddy Warbucks on Broadway in New York City. The time is close to midnight, we have lift-off, "You're only a day away. . . ". All flights bound for New York are now being cancelled.

The real reason I self-actualize this is to stress a far more important idea. This Christmas illustrated how good the presence of these people proved to me, that my feelings truly are spiritually connected to gods will during this time of peace. It brought a whole new concept and meaning of goodwill for me.

This Christmas brought to light why I love. That I am a beautiful person. I thank god for my mom, dad, and sister. I am blessed to truly have a decent person that loves me and I love her back in our place we gather. We call our country 'home.'

The narration of a role model

Or is it 'not' the role model of a narration? The role model of a narrator answer to the narrator of its role model, but I must digress in thought, because the cost of living in such risk-taking is like a venom that makes me relax. You hear the thought, not before its happened, and because of its venom like state in apparatus, then it strikes you like a vampire in around the neck. Its target is of vile deformity, the venoms bile broods on the open flesh of the wound. (Need you be reminded that this discussion, about narration no-less, is being brought to you by the narration, of the narrators voice. Now, is it the narration or the narrator deciding its course? There is the thought! The thought! The cause of the action.)

Like a mental relapse, the narration has struck its victim yet again with the notion of simplicity, our narrator.

Here I am! Mr. Narrator without a face, and only a label to my name. Yes - yes I am the narrator in fact. How do I know?

You have a face and use the word 'I' in its application of the use of its word 'I'. As in: 'I' the narrator, have to tell you, the narration, better yet we've established my own constitution. Something like the magna charta with a twist of fate in royal decree. Crown me as King. The King - is not dead. The King is alive with a voice, and he strikes of venom that makes the narrator relax in completing the narration of events. The "King" the "narrator" or King Narrator has been taught a lesson in the art of narration. Connected a form of the narrating in the kingdom of narration that its constitution has given a name. KING NARRATOR!

Narrator the King has established much of the same personality as in the narration.

Dearest King Narrator: I have addressed this letter to you in the effort to convince if not persuade you - I mean myself - to sell me clues, buy me vowels. Thank-you. Sincerely yours, the narration. P.S. I meant to state "Yours sincerely, the narrator."

Take care of your imagination.

No, I'll work on it. The old ball and chain routine, or purely skin and bones. How it all began was with a shovel, which I now can tell from all accounts I have been born again, reborn, now this time I return as a Zombie. Apparently, King Narrator's narration took a turn for the best of 'I' the narrator's chosen profession. What is that? You mean my profession? Yes, a confession is required of it from you the narrator's narration. Of course! I mean to ask you what you think of my newly found Zombie. The emperor has new clothes, so the saying goes, or at least that's what they keep telling everyone isn't it. Yes, of course - King Narrator - has now become known to us all as a narration being told by a narrator disguised as a Zombie back from the dead.

Precisely.

And now for the intermission; something of interfering quality. We call it comedy. Ca-ca in the poo-poo. Enough is enough. Now where were we?

Now tell me something, back to the story of how did you actually unearth the Zombie. It is exciting. Apparently.

I tried to bury the King Narrator, the narration is somewhat prophetic as time will tell - or in the King Narrator's case - time heals all wounds. Clever that King Narrator. Yes - very.

The time of King Narrator's demise into the ground, lest we forget, although I was still alive, was a matter of learning what I needed as a narrator in the narration, thus the disguise is only one that I act as a Zombie so to speak, in other words, my costume isn't really there. Quite frankly, I didn't want the costume, nor have I earned it, it feels as though people commited a suicide on behalf of the King Narrator. It was not the King Narrator that buried the narration. - Right on.

The spot of the King Narrator's burial is unknown to most, the mystery is in the words and only the words can plot to where the treasure-map leads us. Symbolically hidden, not trivial, meaningless nonetheless powerful. We're talking about what, here? Metaphor's for the period the King's Narrator's narration was lost. It was during the time King Narrator travelled to university in his home city. The narrator lived on Bannatyne Ave. while attending the University of Winnipeg.

Through the time he spent learning, thought provoking though sometimes teary-eyed, people lost faith in the King Narrator's ability to perform as himself. Now, the Zombie is narrating the story on behalf of King Narrator.

This is good proof of everything that's been told in the story indeed. Not a word of a lie or fallacy detected using Venn Diagrams.

You could call this narration 'genius'.

Not exactly a narrator's narrating style per se.

Therefore, the connection has been made, of course it has, why have you finished the story? Nothing is left untold to the reader, and all the points lead us to the cause of the narrator's narration of events. That is good enough for me.

During what course in time did the story begin to change, that the King Narrator unfolded its map made in time, Zombie decided to heal. Through the history between the time Zombie became buried alive, came back from the dead, explained the King Narrator's narration of the story, and then, returned to its place in the plot to resurrect our King Narrator who is now known in the narration as the former, born now reborn again narrator.

Quite common-sense the narrator's views.

The Perfected Reflex

Time is of reflection. The reflection is of time to mankind in a history of actions, only once repeated. To make sense of what we recover throughout the course of time, a history of actors in various positions may occur. This is often the thought process of passage through the labyrinth of intent, or what we can think of on the basis of persuasion in a conscious idea of 'ours' = yourself. Therefore, the same actor you witness in life is how time occurs. You are time itself? You are the cause!

In this obvious crash-course in how you made your identity is referred to as existentialism. (The key word being 'referred'.) The interest in time, is of a method that speaks of identity.

Since the time you are made; you were born an infant. That is to say you were born to create a series of models with hats. For example: different hats suit your personality type, that nothing is indifferent to. Your type(s) of personality requiring you is the time you have spent recovered since wearing diapers.

When I think of the elements necessary, questions may emerge, such questions are asked. What do you want? What will you do to get there? - Anything it takes. What have you done to get where you are? - Everything I've done. What are you going to do now? - Ask me another question.

All of this reminds me of truly being myself. The person I am, refers to when I see my dad smiling, because my dads smile helps remind me of good things about me. My father's smile tells me that whatever I've done, something I did was right about it. I was me.

In the interest of imperfection, what I generally believed others may negatively portray, I used to neglect about myself. My enemies became my greatest allies, and my fears, I could embrace. . . as though intoxicating. This becomes a matter of being renewed of the sense in my self-esteem, which is an issue of importance.

You cannot trace a sense of high or low self-esteem, in fact, you must take the time to plug and unplug the prestige involved with the soul.

I am free to be myself as a result of my inner and outer beauty, which can emmanate the entire body in both opening my mind and fulfill me spiritually as well. The will to intensify how much energy you examine with and investigate the truth regarding personal issues with yourself changes over periods of time.

My investment is one of greater satisfaction, morally, physically attuned to the challenge of each and every opportunity I create for myself in the universe.

Seduced from the Introduction

Shock me.
Feel me.
Touch me.
The monkey off my back.
Tell me.
Assure me.
The monkey off my back.

Candy Cane Lane

Holding hands
to the -
train ride.

This plot of revenge
and anxiety is no
friend of mine.

I take care in
making my decisions
that matter.

Trusting the narrative element
is an assembly through time,
choosing between perjury and patronage.

A philosophy of learning.

How I have changed.

Counter intuitive are for
those who do not know
any better to surprise.

I shall not forget nor regret.

Like fine antique china:
unbreakable -
I enjoy the finer
- things in life.

Its been phenomenal.

Its been a wonderful
premonition - and even
better to follow.

My middle name is status,
boss of no planet.

While nothing can eclipse
the nature of my soul,
my spirit, my humanity
may reveal.

As the victim stops to
keep an expected role,
none will anticipate it.

I slayed the beast;
within me,
trapping the monsters shadowy
figure.

As I transformed
to become itself. . .
a tower of thoughtful power.

What am I - but not
if gods own mercy
my poetic will for survival.

For those that practice
martyrdom, the concept
of evil lives without
peace.

I am not a sinner to confess of it.

Martyrdom is a dogma in
the false belief of fortune.

An inherent evil - I will not adopt.

No less than I care
for an apology.

I am attracted only
to the source of
an energy.

I consume myself with
no need, want, or the
desire in being refused.

How I love to gaze
at sparkling star-lit
night skies.

How it lifts and
propels me, my
heart swollen wide.

Streched out, and open spirit.

Aboard the pirate ship,
he who walks the plank
will plunge into the depth.

Condescending and immature,
martyrs will not deny
they have fallen out of
favor or obey the
rules of god.

The rule of god alienates every
martyr as mortals.

Therefore, in martyrs
immortality does not materialize.

Martyrs are of false witness
to god, baring no resemblence
in the challenge of gods will,
charity, or in sacrifice.

I am not a martyr.

I do not believe in martyrs.

A true believer sees what the
martyr cannot face, the martyr
runs to hide behind = from facing its fear
of god as
deathly.

Like a revolt
leading the revolution
. . . a rebellious band of hippies,
tribal groups, that refuse issues of conformity,
like martyrs guess
they have nowhere to turn
live upon as though an "educated-lie"
entitles them with privilege to act
as if god cannot exist
in the universe known
to man.

I will wager against a dragon-
dressed-to-kill, in my
wager I will win.

This sound I hear, if you
listen to me, is a song of fire
I release.

Eternity: has a perfect pulse!

God is independant of
virtue = requires
"group feeling"
mixed with prayer,
blended in hope.

It is easy to be yourself,
why martyrs simply look
like jerks?

Rent-to-own

Yesterday, I discussed the purpose of Christmas. Today, I propose the same type of discussion. Since the latest 2006 Christmas has officially come to a close, my alter-ego takes precedent, to weigh in on future prospects. I am tired of the anti-fashion Christmas followers pretend to exhibit. Perhaps, I am thinking of a time when things in my worldview of life were different? (However, I digress but I must make the narration something that keeps on topic.) Many who are ignorant to the spirit this season brings, that there are so few that unplug from the reality - then recall what happened - only to plug back into it. In other words, the reality generally speaking. . . you must first be unplugged, be willing to accept the time of year in terms of the holiday spirit, of course, unless most people stay plugged in without ever unplugging themselves for reflection from the jovial and festive promises all to expect of it. So many people mistake the latter as a "family for rent" or attend the "church for hire" as many Christmas followers do. After all, if not during Easter, religion has something to do with Christmas sometime along the way! None of this is not all that important.

After Christmas

Today is like any other day - only better because of Christmas. I gave Tanya a gift of the perfume she wanted. I had heard from my sister that the perfume is the same as my godmother wore.

I also realize, how much I've become less superstitious toward those that do not believe in Christmas?

The story of good will about Scrooge who was a man of enthusiasm as "Christmas past", then as "Christmas present" and "Christmas Future". . . in some untold mystery of its true meaning. Scrooge, might dictate how the carossel of emotions combine his lack of mystery in real life. The moral of the story itself is about why Christmas has such 'mystery' for many who care to celebrate it. Unlike Scrooge, the true hero identifies with Scrooge in order to define what characterizes Christmas can only be done as Scrooge renews his mystery that explores what Christmas really signifies. Perhaps, Scrooge although not 'himself' per se acts as the solution to those that lack clarity to act.

Such a story reminds me of how lucky I am to be here with my family, my sister Marta and our parents. This year, Tanya helped me remind myself of this important time of year.

I do see how special Christmas is for some people though not most would care to admit. I'm thinking about how for others unlike Scrooge fail to commit to any amount of significance behind the spirit of Christmas. Therefore, for people that fail to act like Scrooge forget what Christmas truly means.

I suppose it is easy to overlook such people that neglect the spirit of Christmas, create their own world-views see it as a fairy-tale without considering the value of how Christmas is typical of finding Scrooge.

This year, I found my Scrooge. It is a process of renewal.

It is a step forward.

There are those that will displace the meaning of Christmas, strictly adopt the rules of consumership "marketing Christmas" as though it mirculously or magically saves them. These people (as there are many) fail to find Scrooge as the kind of thinking it takes to be in the spirit of Christmas.

As we joined together at my parents house on Bannatyne, I discovered how little others have learned in identifying with Christmas. Instead, from forming a type of purpose thought, "Christmas is here - it only comes once a year." It was sad to see. I also found out how naive people associate Christmas with tradition, escape into their own warped cacoons and prefer to celebrate with racoons rummage through garbage? Like I said, this was said to see. The truth is, it did not - it will not - spoil what I've been taught. That is the key.

You cannot change the world, unless you decide to be the difference maker. I was proud to be with my family and know the Christmas I have inside.

Last week, when I attended a Christmas gathering, the entire atmosphere was neglected of anything that Christmas for me is about. Now, a week later those same people were supposed to meet us for Christmas.

As we gathered earlier in the day, we discovered that one of those who were supposed to attend declined the invitation. We can call him The Scrooge.. The Scrooge decided to make a marriage proposal to "the future" Mrs. Scrooge. However, this is not to be confused with as a story about Christmas. Remember this as a story about ignorance. Mr. Scrooge might have proposed, but he'd never have the full-meaning of what Christmas actually means. The Scrooge is in a world divided without the meaning of Christmas. Therefore, he feels as though he exists bigger than Christmas. In fact, he chose to propose in New York because the present - to be future - Mrs. Scrooge actually believes that she's bigger than Christmas too.

I realize that for the Scrooges of the world, have no concept of the word Christmas or for that matter what it fails to demonstrate. As for the future Mr./Mrs. Scrooge, they'll always be obsessed with the rest of the worlds Scrooges.

I can honestly say, my house is A Scrooge-Free Zone.

Amen. ~

If only indiscretion

The name says it all;
no threat in what I honor!
The best?
On such short periods of rain.
In both worlds: the best of both worlds.
No threat in what I honor.
You cannot control others decisions vs.
those which of are hardly worth it.
How the fire burns as I turn,
changing in time.

Permission Slipped

When I think of something with vulgarity:
I laugh out loud as if it's funny but not -
false in its reality.
Fake - fake?
It might have something to do with;
off-chance something makes you feel badly about yourself.
However, it only feels like something awkward has happened!
Take it easy - but take it.
The fact you've been taken for granted,
isn't meant to amuse me.
Disrespect and perjury.
My beauty is inconspicuous -
inauspicious this reaction.
No secret is there.

Purging Test

Once you keep trusting me;
the volume increases.
Once you make me a habit,
the speed increases.
Once you make me natural,
the presentation becomes perfect.
The method of a science in natural selection,
divine intervention.
And the revelation of time,
my permission.
My decision for a freer inspiration.
There is no secret to success,
its only key is in the discipline to honor such truth -
of eternity.
- Reject.

Paralyzed Threshold

The need to accomplish something is life,
is not limited by;
but limited to those that often give advice -
need it most?

Cabbage Rolls of a failed ambition

This Christmas I see my mom doing what she's always done since I've known her. . . my mom will keep giving everything she has to give. Tanya, is inviting me to attend this Chirstmas Eve after I work at her house. I think this is the most I've ever wanted. It reminds me of Cabbage Rolls, you can only want more of them they're so good!

Not in saving face

The passion of choices:
choices!
Symbolic of models in turn.
I indulge;
in the love for chocolate.
I haven't lost track of time.
Despised, by the way you've acted.
Aren't you a sight for sore eyes.
Am I over-reacting,
unplugged from vanity.
My misdirected anger a
- purity of the heart is to will one thing. -
For old time sake.

Greatness lies not in being strong. But in the right use of strength. - Henry Ward Bucher

In the new year

I have decided to seek full time employment and quit working at Safeway. The progress shall continue as I 'zero' in - in search of another opportunity suited to my personal goals.

Intelligence is the presence of virtue not of thought. - I wrote this phrase about 10 years ago. It meant the same thing then as it does now, only its meaning has changed in me.

An emmanation of no sour grapes

A lot of ammunition doesn't exactly make a defenseless person stronger. As was the case of an ugly greedy man and the blinded woman.

Nearly 5 years ago you'd have thought, "How special of the blinded woman to give such false impression of herself. She'd almost make you believe she's blinded." It was around that time,
the ugly greedy man became seduced.

About 5 years after you see an ugly greedy man and the blinded woman without any remorse for their actions.

It reminds me of where all the time has come: not where-has-it-gone? You begin to realize how much time has played an important role in your own life. That while those others haven't a clue about what it means to actually see!

What this tells you is that through the emancipation of your own nature. It is a lens. You are able to see what others cannot. That is truly a gift you possess.

That throughout that time you have become something worthwhile, not outspoken, but thought-provoking in your intellect.

As the story begins to unfold for both the greedy ugly man and the blinded woman it ends in tragedy for both of them.

You know how it feels, what it means to see - everything. Unfortunately, as for the ugly greedy man and the blinded woman, they cannot - see - everything. It seems that as time moves on, it goes right past the blinded woman and the greedy ugly man. The story is without a plot. The blinded woman must move aimlessly throughout the story with a greedy ugly man. They have no recollection of the story, and in time they forget how to move within the story.

The tragic tale turned graphic, when the greedy blinded man had his eyes cut out and the blinded woman had her ears ripped off. The metaphor for each of these mutilations is regarding how the blinded woman took her hearing for granted. After all - if a blind person neglects to use their hearing - their one true source of gods gift - then she has lost meaning. As for the greedy ugly man, let him parish the thought of a life not worth living is a case of mistaken identity - as he acts condescending toward those around him for materialistic purposes. The blinded woman forgot how to hear, she cannot be guided by an ugly greedy man. Therefore, god took her ears away and gave them to someone far more capable of moving within the story.

Both of these inferior individuals, have no imagination, and even less character. Although, the purpose of this is to make certain - no matter how unsure - the ugly greedy man and the blinded woman have no place in the story. They both are figments of imagining spoiled or selfish endeavors, that remind us in the story how important the 'soul' is. The nature of the soul is in not "selling-out" per se to neither the ugly greedy man or the blinded woman. It is important to recognize these characters possess either false inhibitions. Its characteristically unproven of them that everyone else can see through it - with the exception of the blinded woman and ugly greedy man - make everyone else suffer for it. The moral of the story is that the characteristics the blinded woman and ugly greedy man possess are really what they are unable to see for themselves.

Amidst the element of surprise, the ugly greedy man is short-sighted and the blinded woman doesn't know everyone else realize how deaf she is.

None of this is entertaining for those others who can see.

As the blinded woman and the ugly greedy man are leaving, you can investigate some of the thoughts others are having. Such as those who were prevented from having fun, for example, begin to picture the ugly greedy man and the blinded woman naked. As opposed to when they entered the party, the ugly greedy man and the blinded woman never really showed up. They only arrived "fashionably late" considering they have no awareness of time within the story. It just goes to show you how tolerable people can be when they see those without natural defenses as we began this lovely story.

However, the thought of a naked ugly greedy and blinded woman will eventually wear off . They essentially serve no purpose in laughter, since they do not arouse the sense even - for a minute.

The truth is that the ugly greedy man and blinded woman are fully aware of how inept the others feel toward them. Yes, they actually choose to live their life the way they do. It is sad - very saddening in fact. It is that kind of knowledge that they lead others to believe they have defenses, and in doing so figure it impacts the rest of the group. How wrong of the poor old ugly greedy man and blinded woman.

An endearing message to the ugly greedy man and blinded woman such as, "Persias ser burro." - which from the Portuguese translates into - you are an idiot. That would be directed to the ugly greedy man. The blinded woman, for all her taste and pleasure, defends the ugly greedy mans honor - since he lacks the eternal spirit - or what the majority with masculinity call testicles. The blinded woman acknowledges how deaf she is of hearing, and chooses to ignore how mentally unstable she really is, and for that matter disguises herself. The blinded woman never had any interest in getting naked herself, because the blinded woman rather keep herself up on a pedestal. The blinded woman is blinded by evil for a reason - she masks herself in order to keep control of what any situation the blinded woman can manipulate. For example, "I don't intend to allow the ugly greedy man to speak for both of us, because we're equally as unattractive and unflattering. I can't hear and he looks horrible when he's naked. It balances out perfectly."

The ugly greedy man is seriously challenged. Perhaps it speaks to the contempt of most who are like the ugly greedy man, after all, in a room full of zealots how many would raise there hand if asked, "How many of you are bigots?" Then, the reply one might offer could be, "One too many." Which, is clearly the case between ugly greedy man and the blinded woman. Perhaps, it also speaks of a turkey dressed in costume, such as ugly greedy mans wardrobe, that the first thing out of the closet makes a turkey look like the oven is its only destiny.

As for the tragic ending to the story, ugly greedy man and the blinded woman boarded the earliest flight they could for New York. The Musicals off Broadway might intrigue the blinded woman and ugly greedy man, everybody knows that Musicals were only created as a result of charity. Most people who want to forget about the rest of the world should watch more musicals, since musicals are only made to inspire the desperate hollow space that ugly greedy man and the blinded woman have. Have fun in New York, but leave your greed at the door.

The best part is about the fact both ugly greedy man and the blinded woman enjoy masochists. As they each arrogantly cared for nothing ugly greedy man left to New York with a sulk behind the blinded woman who followed ugly greedy man not-so-grown-up pouty yet immature face.

The ambition of meaning

There was something about last night that really told me something? It did.

You can't 'change' anyone else!

The good news is: Tanya is about to embark on a new path as she starts her position working at a bank. I'm sure she'll learn quickly, since she's exceptionally smart.

It was about 5 years ago, when I first read the books titled, "Feel The Fear and Do It Anyway" and "Happiness Is A Choice". It was 5 years ago during the Christmas season, that around that time I realized how to value my true potential. From then on, the crystalization of my thoughts are caused.

My journey has taken a form recently, because, I've witnessed how little or insignificant people mistake ambition with greed.

Tanya possesses ambition, with honesty and a true sense of what success manifests.

Uniform mentality

Tomorrow I don't work again. Thank goodness. After tonight, I don't expect much of what I say next to be completely understood. This story is about a Christmas dinner I attended with my family. The rest of the story is in a context of how I felt being there.

I hadn't anticipated the evening as I thought I would. A person I despise, would be in attendance, and I'm only grateful Tanya came with me. It was about 5 years ago, I stopped my relationship and had enough of the alleged individual. I will never forget the last time I saw him. It was about 2 years ago, on my birthday, when he stood behind a friend of his acting as though 6 feet tall?

No matter how much I despised him then or now; my determination held firm. I would not spoil this evening by embarrassing myself or my family and especially not my girlfriend. After all, I do have dignity. My integrity is greater than the patience I need in proving anything of myself to a person not worthy of it. I demonstrated tolerance instead, and I think it showed. I examined my behavior the way I believe it meant that it leaves dogma.

I acted myself, without overreacting in place of discouragement or second-guessing my nature.

Although some may mistake this for weakness on my part, on the contrary, I took control of the condescending inhibition not without giving myself a chance. I am not a sell-out!

Anal Retentive Zealots

Working at my Safeway is a rather anal retentive environment. My explanation is simple: it's as though a nation of amerites? Here I am musing the rational thought processes of blaming as I am all but used to myself, confessing my victim's impact statement. Instead, I realize it is not a family they want me to be a part of. What they want from me, is something they can't have. . . my very soul tells me to 'stop blaming' and start by accepting the roles associated within the company's hierarchy. There are a handful of people that work at Safeway who aren't of the family mentality, but amerites in their anal retentive nature.

I feel there is a blend of tyranny within the ranks. One of the store managers, who leads the colony of amerites, not "accidentally" but deliberately disqualifies my lack of better judgment (for offering from it.) It is a state of denial currently I am in facing. When I see this monster, I say it's sour grapes, instead of blaming the usual suspect - myself! -

My attitude has shifted in the experience, while working at Safeway and categorically singling out the anal retentive foolery I mask it;

a) as a happy-occasion in doing my job.
b) leading by example
c) knowing full well these amerites falsely label me in their belief I want to own-the-place

However, what my attitude and behavior exemplify, does not make it an intolerable resistance involved.

Upon such banal opportunities

On this happiest of happy occassions,
the smell of a christmas tree. . .
- its scent quickly reminds me how I've -
cut my losses.
Time, came and went!
An anonymous criminal?
That: the fire in me.
Gravity in motion;
like a candle flickers in my eye.
Only the act in decieving loses all meaning,
which I trace back.
I'll not neglect my own defenses,
for the purpose of living a lie.

The future presents itself

As the models are examined,
like a coupon book in hand. . .
I place the scissors directly
over the dotted lines.
It helps as they guide me,
to cut a straight line.
The thought of obsession?
The metaphor of an electrical switch!
As you can't change what's - what;
I can only make a difference.
There: I refused.
You, nothing dared.

The generalized other

There are no weaknesses involved in what you expose to others; once you exploit yourself.
Only, once you've blamed yourself have you asked to betray your generalized other. Your generalized other is the extension from yourself - to anyone - others cannot see.

What if drinking your favorite beverage is your greatest 'weakness'? Imagine, if you will sacrifice not drinking that beverage, what if not drinking it became your greatest weakness? Would you still consume the beverage? You probably would make the choice most vulnerable to you.

Experience is powerful

There is no shame in falling down - the only shame is in getting back up. . . and it is glorious.

If you want that people respect you, not because you "want" their respect per se - but that a person is respected unconditionally. The difference being: if others fall into a category, but fails to acknowledge people in the same reciprocal manner. . . in other words they want superficial unequivocal "respect" - not because they've earned it - but demanded or expected the unattainable.

Hair App. Thursday - 2pm

Tanya and I are happy together. Not that what I say, should it be confused with sounding like an old married couple?

The true nature of this post, has no relevance, only some sort of prize offered to me for sharing my beliefs!

That is the true nature of my post: that I've become a confident human being. That is the prize.

Fish Net Stockings

The timing isn't off, quite.
The maturity is inescapable.
My sweetness is potentially sickening.
My predicatbility is almost as gentle.
Bruises - not in the least.

Giving and Receiving

I'm taken.
Play hard to get.
My confidence
an all time
highest or lowest.
The glass half-full
or half-empty.
Digressed, such is the fact from
gravity in spoiling my narration.
In the popular opinion of many -
not all impregnated in thought are.
There is no duress
in vital-signs; which
of yours is junk?
I prefer: no sarcasm!
The jealous monster's closet,
no normal shame leads me behind the closed door.

Inexpensive Crackers

I enjoy the taste of expensive crackers;
I bought them, cheap.
However:
STOP GIVE ME ORDERS!
Insubordinate clown?

Present Day Dogma

Chocolates and things;
rotten (expired) challenge.
Buckets of tears;
piles of socks . . .
pails of laughter.
Rough:
around the edges.
Tough on spinach.

Nothing uninspired.

Silk like heaven.

Money bags?

Princess!

I don't deserve
the baby thorown out
with the bathwater.

I find to be breathtaking
what most people, don't.

Sorry

Headless horses in volume.
A code blue of trifecta.
The human nature of emotion.
No risk?
The derby's nature ran wild on far-gone;
apology.
Time to eat.
Time in the plam of your hand,
safe and ripe:
ready to entertain!
Trapped in heat all to important.
Both a sheppard and in angels
that no mistake.
Misguided judgment.
Misinformed interpretations.
Direction of choices.
No hurt surprise,
worth in saving my breath over.
A class for consideration,
that no avoiding guilt.
Giggling for points.
Volunatry actions.
And involuntary apathy.
I am not a victim
of hell close to
the reigns of fire.

Categorical Change in Observation

1 -You both can of can't pretend flaws that do exist in us all, don't make you more or less then perfect and no more or less than imperfect.

People that strive for excellence / increase their full potential / capacity for understanding and compassion, heighten their awareness in learning new things about themselves and the world we live in, accept the values we create in society as we work together independently as well as in groups. However, not all will become as tolerant or accomplish those things in life that others do achieve for the same circumstances. Therefore, we develop defense mechanisms we're capable of inhibiting emotions, or fail to fully accept embracing, thus empathize with those negative traits. Instead, we rather conceal those in the mistake that our inferiority is unworthy of becoming part in your identity. We become afraid to express our weakness openly and regrettably use them as security blankets. . . when in fact you own the good and the bad as positive characteristics. When you attribute yourself and with respecting others, you demand the best possible "you" in life that only you reveal, all without limiting yourself, your self worth, or your own reputation in comparison. You will benefit in the attitude of a cost to compromise. No price is better then, you.

2 - You can switch 'on' or 'off' the way you think and behave; but not if you believe change is something you'll control or influence in others exhibited "for-you".

Criminal White Noise

Hurry-up?
Yes - yes!
While, the meter is running. . .
cab-fare's are high.
It encourages us to buy.
I'll pay you in candy canes, sir.
An assorted variety of wonderful candy canes,
delicious and sweet.
All about chocolate Christmas bears,
and almonds for charity-like-cherries
full of flavor.
Sounds like a deal;
but I insist.
You must:
accept my payment method.
I leave you no risk.
I intend you no harm.
You see me as the slave in time.
I recede into memory.
I work from memory.
Working from it,
I've already worked out the fine print.
Christmas cards that read,
would you rather drive a Buick -
or a Le sabre.
- Would you like Pepsi,
or do you not prefer Coca-Cola.
You MUST have a choice,
than the less you settle for.
An unhealthy obsession, perhaps.
That the will of gods-will.
I'm travelling on route to the North Pole,
flying south.
I worked it into memory.
I worked from memory.
My Christmas Wish for this year - 2006 -
is a hug from big old Santa Clause himself.
Why must he retreat into the evaporation of a chimney.
That this state of the virus is an incredible smell of irony.
The present state of the virus, is a curious obsession.
For maximum results of a stoic vanity,
undressed not 'naked' only cannot be repeated.
If, naked not "too good to be true".
I keep an eye out on the state of the virus.
Success, comes naturally to me,
not all those as opportunistic per se.
I do not enjoy the company of such,
"strange opportunists"
or how they'd act like.
Ambition - as is in the nature I acquire - of an ambitious independence,
independence - for all my fruit in achievement - forms an independant ambition.
It is this virtue I possess.
My candid future.
No ulterior motivation, from a necessary curiosity.
All I seek to that end.
No indifference to compatibility,
desire in change,
or playing with shoe polish.
A shinning example I've defined myself.
An example of decision with incompatible-opportunists
who've masked their emotions,
hidden beneath the flaw.
That, their apparition is an illusion trapped in thought
because they've fear you see right through
their 'imperfection'.
I kept my eye on the status of the virus.
No more.
All that I intended in such peace.

Feeling sad and blue? Don't wipe out what resemble your emotions best. Face the reality of every situation, and reflect on your innermost thoughts. Just a simple reminder never to stop believing in yourself. - (Circa, 2006) - Marco Almeida

"Survivor Guilt"

The day I turned 18, I was involved in an almost fatal car accident. The thought seems like yesterday; it was a moment I virtually escaped lucky to be alive. As I try to put these thoughts into perspective, today, I'm willing to say I've accomplished myself. Last year in finishing my university degree, and now working full time between 2 part time jobs. One is with Safeway and the other with my parents. The objectives are quite different: my job at Safeway, being, a type of playground for 'kids' that are my age when I first started university and held down a job part-time. As I can relate to that, I cannot relate to the fact these same "young adults" who're aspiring students in university, use Safeway as a place to parallel their habits at school. These employees, don't see themselves as employee's but rather call Safeway (as I referred the term: a playground). For their lack shaped identity, I can empathize with the construction of how seeing the world through their eyes deserves some credit. However, I am also a leader fo my own destiny, and my patience doesn't run thin per se. . . but its enlightened me. It tells me how far I've come. It reminds me of the person I've become, while going through university and the time and effort I invested into it. It took some of that energy in my experience and made things count.

As I prepare myself for my future, I do not wish to waste equality as an issue. The value I see in myself, I protect, with my family who've helped me realize my full potential.

I often forget why happiness is a choice? I'm quick to add how people, generally speaking, bury themselves, and their flaws. . . but no one is perfect! I tell myself to unplug the fear of isolation, threatens me. If I challenge it, I will do things necessary to keep it positive. Instead to digging a grave, and taking my sense of shame with me, I can release it. In order to reveal my true self, I must take the challenge in not burying the negative thoughts I may or may not consider seriously.

Bering self-motivated through ADHD, is a dedication I owe to myself with great success. I ask myself, to talk about making choices what is the cause behind making those choices. The influence I create over decisions in my everyday life are exteremely important to me.

As I prepare myself in moving forward, there is a sense of appealing to ignorance in others that have affected me. Most times, I've been misunderstood in feeling misjudged or treated unfairly.
Some examples I describe of are selfish desires, vaguely interpreted in their meanings, but nevertheless I can admit.

It was at Christmas with a family style gathering, that we were all invited to attend. I arrived with my parents and my sister to a friends house, which unfortunately didn't make me feel welcome. The last time I saw this person, was on my birthday, when we were in the same location at a night club. The individual in question did know it was my birthday, but didn't care to acknowledge me. The previous Christmas was when I saw that same unbenownst subject; with farmiliar face of another female from a New Year's Eve party whom I recognized was in attendance. The 2 left the house unannounced in a perturbed fashion.

The result of this leads me to believe how change in my life has later altered my perceptions of these events in time.

What once seemed trivial to me, now I understand how these are experiences that make me a better person. What once consumed me to the core I've reconciled in spirit within.

Little Hypothesis

I keep myself plugged into a mystery of sorts? I'm not trying to overcompensate. . . in this case.
Quite simply, I have my sense of privacy in life that matters most to me in what I've accomplished. It is a very fine line between fantasy and reality, which I speak of. Therefore, through the destruction and fear of war people are going through in the world today, my place in this life is secure. I can feel safe. I have made choices - some good but none bad - were mistakes that've costed nothing. I learned to create and establish myself. In a consumer-branded holiday that Christmas has become, I'm proud to admit the little things count to me, being, a true sense of what this time of year means. I haven't lost it, nor will I ever.

My feelings and sensitivity as I am, I do accept, and I can embrace those parts that make me who I am. I don't anticipate or neglect myself in a manner of thinking. I care to demonstrate equality in things, without being manipulated or made unaware.

In the future of no excuse

What it feels like to love yourself. The feeling I get because Tanya is with me, is unconditional love. Today, while I was working at Safeway, "Personel from produce phone on Line 1, please." I answer in a hurried pace, "Hello." The other voice sounded as if to demoralize, as though a possessed demon might be cursing back for my poor edicate? I started working at Safeway about six months ago. Funny - funny how things work out.

Japanese Haiku Dolls of Duality

My interest of intent is to share flowers.
And after hours in my vestibule of thought;
thoughts that cycle -
touch and go?
Where my thoughts carry words:
instructions of my own voice!
A nature that monikers
in the duration of time. . .
I change the subject.
I share my flaws,
- a personality so distinct in my character.
I don't hide behind
my insecurities.
After hours, in my vestibule of moniker
the duration of time I changed the subject.
AGAIN.
I'm the centipede.
It is in my style.
I don't enjoy drinking coke
if I have to buy it from
point of purchase.
I pay to the inhibition
of a tambourine's sound.
I play like a man.
I make not an easy victim.
Nor am I irresponsible, pretentious or unresponsive
to accidental tripping of mistakes I've encountered.
All in the effort to keep my head up,
on guard and set free.
I please in moccasins.
As I take my fall from heaven back to a future time.
I have a deep affection for diamonds,
that qualifies in contradiction.
As I collected monster's from crisis.
In this collection of monster's and musical dolls,
I spent far to much time in collecting.
IT became a rather natural habit,
in creating the ideally perfect habitat.
I habituated myself within every external circumstance.
In response to demoralization,
degraded,
or devaluing my chance for freedom.
Defaced of patronization.
Immune to temptation.
Sharing in appreciation as I care to demonstrate,
such this is knowledge capable.
But I spoke too soon in a rush,
can you believe my ineligible luck.
'88' times to be exact,
in quiet words.
From quality I pick and choose my battles.
A refined search for truth in the supply,
of nothing more important.
It is not how you win or lose,
but how you play the game.
A mentality of choice.
A renaissance of agency,
danger and opportunity
to instill the fear from no ordinary complacency.
A kind of driven purpose.
The noble lie.
Monkey see,
monkey do keep secret.
The tables keep turning,
the chairs spinning.
Interrogating such beauty. . .
"Mirror-mirror on the wall" I claimed to have none of it,
without an insurgent of proof for such logic.
Such is being interrogated of beauty in the eye of the beholder.
Such beauty for a freedom in choosing.
Freedom is choice.
Is a choice not 'freedom' per se,
that infuriates the mind of an inner psyche.
I'm obsessing over what answered freedom have I chosen.
In this nest of broken dreams we dance.
In this choice of freedom, no favoritism rests.
However, I must not obsess for an answer.
The most insecure of human thoughts,
are flaws based on emotion.
Yet, there are many thoughts imposed.
Implying case in pain, death or destruction.
Therefore, there are many more important things in nature.
That - that to determine the duality.
I possess no instinct for destruction.
I soon speak, so soon to be spoken.

Casa Almeida

The time, many-many moments I shared. . .
when I once lived on 443 Elgin Ave.
in Winnipeg.
There, I would sleep by our Christmas Tree.
With lights.
And a warm place we called home.
My sister and I.
We'd wait for the man with a beard,
and a happy face.
The resemblence of an entire lifetime.

Renewed of confidence

My soul emanates in the direction
of the star I
was born.
Not one thing other,
but only from which you
are born.
I am there,
not in isolated
alienation.
It is my spirit! -
Rules that only symbolically apply;
- good luck?
As I am made aware,
all these are judgements
that I'm walking through the fire.
An less than over-confident hinted smile I'm leader.
From ear to ear my teeth shinning brightly.
The controversial gypsy pure of sense.
The terrifying defintion safe in quicksand.
A travelling psychic,
an attached ear to companion me in narration,
that nothing will discriminate against
me.
True skills,
carefully choosing your friends wisely.
Not selling out.
A sense of humor.
I will not snub a sunset made of stone.
Naive sterotypes come across only as
Marie Antoinette.

A healthy attitude is contagious but don't wait to catch it from others. Be a carrier. - unknown

Scarface: not based on the movie

For all immortal flesh sealed wounds!
The hypocrites lack of self-control?
However, for face value. . .
- I do not seek a slave mentality.
I followed rules to make it here. -
Such opposing forces;
made for very little anxiety.
I've expressed such a sarcasm of delight,
in survival instinct these words.
Whistling along to the tune of longevity.
Frozen next to me,
in memory
of
inhibitions.

The silence of patronization

How foreign are my inhibitions?
That the rest conceal my true olive-like. . .
taste!
The promise of something better has been
my most request.

Of no empty contradictions;
or illusory objects.

My confident nature is not pretended in fate.

Excellence is not a skill. It is an attitude. - Ralph Marston