Tag Archives: passion

LOOKING FOR YOU

Source: online, unknown

Dearest,

Some would fight for love. I don’t have that as-noble-as-is-shameful aspiration. I am writing to find you. When I used to watch you write, I never quite understood it when you told me it calmed you. Well, maybe because I could not imagine you ruffled in the first instance. You said writing helped you collect your thoughts.

I don’t collect, neither am I quite collected.

I am writing to find you.

Where are you since you have been gone? Where do people like you go? Into the arms of someone else? Who can satisfy the appetites of people like you? Can even someone like you do that? I know I pushed you away. And I know the hurt in itself could drive you into the arms of another in a fit of rebound, yes? Or, are you beyond frailties? I like to think what we shared could mean so much to you to have affected you that way. Apparently, I am not beyond selfishness. Or, maybe that is the way the experience some call love ought to be. That what partly made it special was knowing that I was responsible for you and you vulnerable to me. How sick is that?

Is there any point to this? Why should I want you back? What is to stop this cycle from repeating itself again? People argue breakup-makeup cycles are bad. Others say one could learn from past mistakes and redo things better. What if the explanation is simpler than that? That we are meant to be, and part of what happens is we grow from knowing that we are bound to end up with each other again –the sense of the inevitability. That generally should make sense to you. It should comfort you that: the fact we keep ending up back together should mean that we are meant to be –the sense of predestination, certainty and rightness of decision. The proof that a force beyond natural must want us to be together.

Or, have we become an old love? The kind that just gives off smokes like a locomotive, which can never aspire to be a spaceship giving off fire. You know such crafts are not practicable on this earth’s ground where we live, right? Why not enjoy the familiarity that we have. Why not gain from growing into each other. Or, does that make us like poles which repel?

People argue a little drama now and then is good. Does breaking up sound little to you? Should one deliberately start a drama not knowing if it had the capacity to escalate into a break? How does one perfectly control the situation? Would someone in love be so calculating and manipulative of love itself no less?

I know we are generally a complicated lot as humans. We criticise some for making issues complicated. Yet we somehow deep inside enjoy complications in life. We say it makes us feel alive.

But, please, believe me when I say I want to find you. It’s not about finding love as an experience. I want you. And this desire is without complication or another shade of meaning. It is as plain as my thoughts, as my words.

It is as wonderfully calm as I feel when writing. When writing this.

Don’t make me wait forever. The waiting game does not necessarily breed passion. It can finally kill whatever spark is left.

Please…

I wait to hear from you.

 

Yours,

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S T R U C K ! ! !

English: African Lion and Eland Antelope skele...

English: African Lion and Eland Antelope skeleton diorama to be displayed in the Museum of Osteology. Photo by Jay Villemarette (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So hear
You know I am already a fool
When it comes to you
I stalk you like a haunter
A haunter ill-prepared
To apprehend the victim
So that each time
I come close to you
I am all amped up
Adrenaline pouring through my blood
As I prepare to hop on you
And claim you for myself
But at the climax of my anxiety
I am reminded that
There really is no way to bring it through
This lack makes me burn hotter with sickening desire

For a moment
You look in my direction
Just in time to see me on fire
Oh darn! I reek of burns
I try to run away
But the trail of smoke betrays me wickedly
You try to reach for me
But, again, I think
What will be the end to it
What happens after you catch up to me
Stand and stare me in the face
So I run
Adrenaline oozing through my sweat
A strong pheromone
On someone dreading attention
And you chase me
Why you do I don’t know
But I won’t even dare to ask that
If and when you should catch up with me

I just run
Like a foolish lion
Who faced a horned antelope
To discover late
That he hadn’t grown any tooth or claw!

The Cheetah And Lamb Saga

It’s been going on for a while today.

The cheetah at the lamb’s tail. But, it’d appear he is not hungry, because he’d stride up close to the lamb during the chase, take a little bite and watch with keenness how the lamb reacts. After, he’d step down his pace to allow the lamb recoup.

He favoured the tail at first. Since it wasn’t very painful, the lamb was able to recover easily and adjust to the experience. Then he moved up close and personal as he threw a clawed limb at the lamb’s side cracking a rib close to the lamb’s heart. Thankfully, the lamb’s heart was spared, the cheetah thought. It’d be a premature end to his fun. Now the lamb was beginning to understand as it felt the pain. At a time, the lamb saw the cheetah draw back. He was tired of the game. But, suddenly it felt the cheetah breathing down its neck where it stopped to rest. The cheetah had caught up with it again. The suddenness added more shock to the baseline fear of the whole experience. The lamb leapt up in horror. It was wrong. The cheetah knew his cards well and had upped his game.

Why wouldn’t the lamb just give up? Was its survival instinct that potent, or was the cheetah just playing its psyche just right. Give some hope, then also a little fear (leaving the lamb with a net gain of hope). Repeat the cycle many more times till the lamb gets used to having a little hope left. Then, in one quick clean move, dash the accumulated hopes.

The cheetah paused to rest again. Or, at least so to make the lamb think. Suddenly the cheetah saw two all-white eyes, stark, glaring at him above two rows of all-white teeth, huge, baring. The lamb knocked the cheetah quickly with a hoofed limb to the cheetah’s forehead sending him sprawling, out from under the tree where the cheetah was lounging.

In time, the lamb turned on the cheetah and gives him a run for his sanity.

“Inspiration is a male on heat!”
-JARCSH

BACKGROUND: It could be painful when you call yourself an artist, yet you can’t always seem to capture all you want or wish to capture and express properly. Inspiration would come on strong on you, making you feel warm all over and your head/mind bursting with aggressively taunting bits and pieces of imagination.

Initially, you could manage to live a normal life, undisturbed by days when you cannot express your art. Then, after getting used to making fine works of art -music, writing, graphics, theatre,… it starts becoming a part of you to wanna capture and express EVERYTHING that pops into your mind. Days when it’s organised; days when it’s random; nights you can’t sleep yet not much results to show. Yet, as strong and loud as inspiration is, it doesn’t always wait for you achieve orgasm. It comes on, drops all it has to drop, and leaps off you. Leaves you virtually stranded in the dark. High and dry. And cold. Please, pray you can quickly gather what bits you can, and perhaps your audience may enjoy it well enough not to notice you had to sweat using your own wits to piece the many parts together into a masterpiece.

I am not gonna advise any artist reading this to turn on his/her inspiration, but you know it takes a lot to stride at par with this mischievous cheetah called inspiration.

Thank you.