Amongst the Thorns, She Fights!

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Fine Wine

Soft supple like a new babe’s bottom
the contours of your waist feels to my touch.
No sharp angle, no jutting sword
that springs out at you while you duel and jaunt
Round and shapely like a graceful pear
the curves of your hips call out to me in sight.
No box of secret, just a woman’s tale that wish-washes
when she walks seducing my eyes and the coils of my soul.
Strong and mighty like am amazon princesses,
the swift moves of your legs mesmerise the inner sanctum of my mind
No stilts of wood, just flesh and glory
that makes a manhood jolt as heels add to the magnificence of these two combined.
A marvel of the true world, a figure of 8,
the epitome of an hourglass slinking through time
to capture a life worth living, knowing and savouring
like expensive wine of a distinguished time.

Celebrating women…

Journeying On…

Driving endlessly toward the target,
twenty-thirty minutes due north,
in a blinded sea of fog without a purpose,
just a location set on course to a place where we must get to or else fate will have no mercy.

You were destined to be there,
destined to have gotten into that car,
destined to know those very things to say,
destined to know which buttons to push.

Co-ordinates set and ready to go,
the road was marred with potholes,
scars of tales of survival for those who secretly passed down words of wisdom
and to the longing of those who wished to tread this path least trodden.

And now you are on your way passing those very Sequoia trees,
mansions of natures telling tales of centuries past,
secrets of success or sorrow,
but nevertheless wisdom and knowledge that many do seek.

Whilst you journey
in your comfortable cocoon of air condition,
you will find yourself at a destination once unknown to you.
One travelled a mile too many to count.

A worthy destination,
a locale close to your heart,
one that will change your life,
the future.

And when you arrive your past will realise,
that lessons learnt was that of a life lived
with a purpose to an unnamed destination
that has now a label with your initials and a surname to match yours.

You have arrived,
your legacy has been made in those very potholes,
in the road taken, in the glory of the vessel,
in the black box of your passage through time.

Fate decided,
and you answered its call,
dutifully and naturally you conquered
and now its time to move on.

Life is a journey. That’s all I can say.

Full Moon Wonders

Looking up what to do you see on a clear midnight blue sky? Where the yellow moon blazes against the darkness; whilst it shines on you stare on, your eyes glazing over without blinking not even for a moment?

Do you see the millions of stars, that sparkle like gold, glitter, and blink at you like beautiful bright eyes, and as you take it all in? Do you see yourself lost in this endless dark pool that envelopes you from within?

As you breathe, do you feel it on the back of your spine the thought of who might be looking up above with you yet a million miles away sharing the same thought as you did?

Who in a million, billion, and trillion miles could it be? Who could capture the same thought, the same memory and make it theirs, yours, ours and wonder what you might be wondering, feeling what you are now feeling?

Then in a fleeting glance, a blink of an eye, that thought is gone but only to be replaced by another so powerful. One with that yearning to meet this other person, who may or might not be your twin in thought and mind.

Someone who is lonely or someone who loves a full moon night, one without the clouds to hide its beauteous sight. Someone who is clearly different from the rest, one that will stop and admire what doesn’t tickle the rest.

With hope in your heart, and love fleeing in your eyes, hoping you’ll find someone to share the woe in your heart.  Hoping to make something beautiful shine with all its might, like the orb above.

Her broken heart with yours, to make one that is new, one that is whole, one that will change the world and make it glow, incandescently, like the moon that stares you at you now, above like a guardian wishing you well.

Image Credit : darkmatter257

Dedicate to T, you’re that rare yellow orb against my midnight sky, and in you I find, home.

Oh Woe to me. Pain hath become mine once more!

Oh it’s that time again, when I’ve been rendered an invalid (well this time for a shorter period). I have pulled ligaments in my foot. What is it with me and ligaments? They sure don’t like me. First I broke my ACL, now I’ve pulled my foot’s ligaments. Oh Murphy. You such are a bastard, you know that?

Sigh, this is what happened. I have a black kitten, called Kahlua (I named him this cos of the fact that my last black cat was named Cognac, and I wanted to have a set of alcohol-named black cats. So anyways, this Kahlua bites. He does it with love (I hope he does), but he does bite and they sting especially when he goes for your ankles and the soft skin that trace over your veins and such.

He lunged at me to bite my ankle, I jumped back. when I came crashing down on the ground, my left foot had turned and I came crashing down on the foot sideways, with all my weight on it and I heard the insides of my foot go “screeeeccchh”. Pain, searing pain was all I felt. I was home alone, except for the cat who circled me. I felt like prey. But it didn’t bite me, maybe it sensed my pain. Nevertheless, I couldn’t get up, and I couldn’t get to my phone, so I did what I was supposed to do. First aid! I crawled on my belly to the kitchen, used my strength to hoist myself up to the freezer, grabbed the ice trays and I came down again, and I started slamming the trays downwards to unlodge the ice cubes from the tray. I placed on ice cub on the quickly-swelling-foot and then looked around for a bag. Thankfully, there was a bag around. I put more ice into the bag and applied the bag on the swollen left foot. I hopped on my good leg to the sofa and lay there with a bag on my foot for an hour. That’s when my foot felt better so I hopped around to find my phone and a bandage and then I started making calls and tweeting incessantly about the pain.

I tried to ride the wave of pain out, but 3 hours later, the pain magnified. It was time to go to the doctor. And painfully (alone), I made my way down the stairs, and waited for Tharindu’s driver to come take me to the hospital, hobbled in and hobbled out, every step as painful (or more) than the last. Got to the  of Park Hospital, a lovely smiling Dr. Yapa greeted me and he poked, I yelped, and so he told me, your ankle is fine, however the arch of your foot, not so much. You’ve bent it inwards with the fall and you’ve pulled your ligaments throughout. Sigh. He had an attendant (also smiling) apply this numbing gel, which didn’t numb me at all. I think I have tolerance to all these things. And then prescribed me lots of painkillers and a gel to apply, and we had another chat about this other medical worry I had and sent me off. I thanked him profusely. And I wobbled to the pharmacy and off home.

No one at home again, so I hobbled upstairs and got into bed. I had to eat to take the meds. All “after meals” meds, they were. So I made an egg sandwich, hobbling on my good foot, wincing in pain when a wrong move sent searing red-hot pain down to my nerve endings and giving me a headache.  So I ate it in silence, and then hobbled to bed, took my medication, wondered who taught the nurse at Park Hospital to bandage dress patients cos it wasnt right. Waited for the meds to kick in. It took my tummy 3 hours. 3 hours I waited for the bloody meds to kick in. After that I was drugged and glorious. Euphoric about the diminished pain and I went off to dream about two people that I rather not discuss. All I can say is my mind is very very weird.

That is all.

Also, watch where you go. And remember that you are NOT a cat and you don’t always land (correctly) on all fours(or twos). Sigh.

Joygasmic Food: Panna Cotta [Dessert]

So today, I had a rather bad migraine, and I was working and when I was “working” I stumbled upon this dear dear site which had a beautiful picture of something rather delicious. Now, as of late my stomach and I have allied ourselves together against a greater force, which is really my body, and we are at war. One wants to diet, while the other wants to eat, eat and EAT. We eat to live, right? RIGHT! Anyways, this rather delicious piece caught my eye and I thought I’d share the image and the recipe (which was there as well), with you guys.

Enjoy!!!

Ingredients:

3 cups cream

1 package (1/4 ounce) unflavored gelatin

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/2 cup sugar

Directions:

1. Put 1 cup cream in a medium saucepan and sprinkle gelatin over it; let sit for 5 minutes. Turn heat to low and cook, stirring, until gelatin dissolves completely.

2. Add remaining cream and sugar to gelatin mixture and heat gently, just until sugar dissolves; add vanilla.

3. Pour mixture into 4 large or 6 small custard cups. Chill until set, about 4 hours. Serve in cups, or dip cups in hot water for about 10 seconds, then invert onto plates. Serve within 24 hours.

*By the way, for our topping we used warmed strawberry jam sprinkled with pomegranate seeds….so easy and really delicious!

Source: OnceWed

Life’s Many Presents

Life gives you many presents. Sometimes, those presents could include the new BB you’ve been eyeing, or the lovely stripper shoes that you’ve craving for or even socks. Now, despite not really wanting/appreciating what life gave you, you should accept those socks graciously and don them because you’ve just made your feet quite deliriously happy. One person coals, is a another mans gold!

One of those days

There are days that all I want to do is work, work, and work some more, because frankly, all I really want to do is be busy, and stay busy and not really deal with the woes of my mind, my heart (well maybe not my heart, because it’s a party and then some with my Thar), and surroundings. The surrounding woes my mind, and that brings me down, like a house of cards. Today wasn’t such a day, and my mind is constantly being weighed down by all the thoughts that run through my head, where I have come to point I can’t speak. I simply cannot put a sentence together, because the voices in my head (I have 7 and they have names – Pav (the dominant personality), Portia, Piper, Page, Penelope, Prudence and Phoebe) are always speaking to each other, either ranting, conversing or simply consoling (which seem to be occurring more and more as of late).  Anyways, whatever it is, it has affected me to the point where I zip and go on lock-down, and if I am in company, all I can do is listen (pretend or try extremely hard to listen (because let’s face it, when you’re listening to 7 voices in your head, do you really thing and 8th or even 9th voice coming through my ear drums will get past? I didn’t think so!)). I spaced out a few times during social gatherings and this is normally with my Thar’s friends because it normally happens in the nights. At most of the time, I really do try to listen but like I said, as of late, something has taken over me and I just can’t seem to figure out why it’s affecting my vocal cords, my thinking processes and why when I do open my mouth to say something, a)my speech dyslexia makes a comeback b)my pronunciation ends up being butchered and c) my vocabulary has gone on hiatus. It’s not pretty and I don’t enjoy it, because I am at times a perfectionist (and stubborn to boot) and when things don’t go my way or something hasn’t been done in the proper way, I sometimes get royally annoyed (even if it is with myself – yes, I am too hard on myself, but do people ever learn unless they are hard on themselves?).

 

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A house is not home!

They say that life is hard, but how hard is it to live inside this home, no one apart from the very people who live here will truly know.

There is never a day that goes by without voices being raised, people getting hurt and dreams being shredded into little pieces. First by hands, then put into a shredder and then stabbed with an ice pick. Yes, my dreams have gone through that. They lie in minuscule pieces on the floor and I look upon them with grief.

They say that families are supposed to take care of you, and I suppose they do. But that care always comes at a cost and that is when a certain individual flips, a monster makes an entrance, we get flamed and scorched good. Crispy, if you will.

It is at times like these that I want to run away from home, but I can’t because I’d be leaving behind people I can’t really take with me. And that makes me want to cry and cry and cry. Crying never solves anything, but at least the agony that my heart feels right now, would dissolve into the salty water and the weight of these problems will ease, at least a little. But I sometimes think, does it really? I don’t think so, but at least I can pretend that it will.

Nothing is ever good enough, and we are never good enough. No matter what is said and done, things never get resolved and we just continue in this cycle of life and hate.

Let’s say that my life is 90% Misery and 10% where I’m trying to maintain my sanity when I live under this roof, and I preoccupy myself by hiding behind text books and my faithful laptop. When I’m not within the confines of these walls, I’m 90% deliriously happy and 10% carefree! I might sound like a bitch for saying this, but without my closest friends, I don’t think I could survive this long in this crazy so called ‘Home’. Because this isn’t a home, it’s my own personal prison, and the mother is the Prison Warden. With constant threats, never knowing what tomorrow might bring, the only solace I know is that the people who I have found my peace with will still be around when dawn breaks. For that I’m thankful.

It’s been awhile…

…. since I’ve been down this road. I was having a chat with Teddy, when it suddenly hit me what today was.

A year ago to this day, I remember I cut my hair short, a page-boy bob. After growing out my hair to a length never achieved before, I cut it, because the reminders that the hair had for me were too many. And after months of letting it be, it was gone. I knew I missed in that moment, I knew I longed to feel it between my fingers, I longed to play with it again and be able to smell that fruity scent I was so familiar with it. And more than the memories, I knew I had been rash and hasty, and done away my hair and not dealing with the person at hand. I was never the confrontational person, at least till now.

I remember why I cut it and I remember the tears I cried that same morning (for different and more horrible reasons), when I hastily made my way to the salon. “I want it gone”  I told them and silently to myself “…like all those bad memories.

I remember, and yet it feels so long ago. The months that followed afterward were just as tearful, just as painful as that day that I cut my hair, only one year ago.

Oh, but it’s over now and my hair has grown back. Not to its former glory, but it’s getting there. And in that time, I must say, its been a roller-coaster of ups and down.

The last six months have been wonderful. Hell, despite the torture I endured I’ve learnt some great things, like the following;

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If only…

– If I were a season, I would be Summer
– If I were a month, I would be April
– If I were a day of the week, I would be Friday
– If I were a time of day, I would be the Sunset
– If I were a planet, I would be Mars
– If I were a tree, I would be a Mahogany
– If I were a flower, I would be a Lily
– If I were a fruit, I would be a Grape
– If I were a land animal, I would be a White Serbian Tiger
– If I were a sea animal, I would be a Dolphin
– If I were a bird, I would be a Phoenix
– If I were a kind of weather, I would be the Sunny yet drizzling type
– If I were a musical instrument, I would be the drums
– If I were a color, I would be Purple
– If I were a facial expression, I would be a blissfully happy yet goofy smile
– If I were an emotion, I would be the overpowered with happiness kind
– If I were a sound, I would be the sound of soft waves crashing onto land
– If I were a car, I would be a BMW or a Ferrari
– If I were a food, I would be anything Italian
– If I were a place, I would be a tropical private island
– If I were a flavor, I would be Coffee
– If I were a scent, I would be that of Lavender
– If I were an object, I would be Fluffy
– If I were a body part, I would be the Eyes.
– If I were a song, I would be like nothing you’ve heard before
– If I were a pair of shoes, I would be a pair of low heeled sneakers
– If I were a fairytale, I would be Beauty & the Beast.
– If I were a holiday, I would be Christmas.
– If I were a nut, I would be an Almond.

Sunset by AntiSpy