Can I get this type of love?
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
You have two wolves in you, both dependant on you... Which one do you feed?

My friend learned this from one of her professors and passed it along to me...
There was a conversation between a grandfather and his grandson.
He tells his grandson that he has two wolves in him at war..
One wolf of anger, hate, etc... and the other of kindness, love, etc...
So the grandson asks who wins the war...
and the grandfather says "the one you feed."
You control the extent of you emotions.
If one wolf dies there is only one left.
Let the happiness in you die and the love and kindness will leave with it.
If you choose to let go of the anger and hate, the joy and gratitude you hold onto will triumph..
Friday, May 28, 2010
..arson
How the FUCK do I not give a FUCK?
First. second. THIRD.
Playing with the fire I lit and thought I understood.
First the fire was lit for me.
second fire flickered but never grew.
THIRD sizzled, smoked, shot sparks but no flame was emitted.
First I wanted to learn. THIRD makes me crave to forget it.
How the fuck do I not care that it ended before it began?
Sick arson misunderstood until the fire sparks out of your hand.
How the FUCK do I not give a FUCK if that fire burned my skin?
Fire lit to warm my heart but ended smoking my vision in the end
Spark skimmed my fingers, grazed my chest and burrowed in mind
No tears to end the spark.
My vision left un-blind
Bright yellow, orange, sometimes scorching white
To crave a crave is sick until you get it in your sight
Questioning the failed ignite, asking if you really wish it would
Holding a torch to a spark as if the burn misunderstood.
First. second. THIRD.
Playing with the fire I lit and thought I understood.
First the fire was lit for me.
second fire flickered but never grew.
THIRD sizzled, smoked, shot sparks but no flame was emitted.
First I wanted to learn. THIRD makes me crave to forget it.
How the fuck do I not care that it ended before it began?
Sick arson misunderstood until the fire sparks out of your hand.
How the FUCK do I not give a FUCK if that fire burned my skin?
Fire lit to warm my heart but ended smoking my vision in the end
Spark skimmed my fingers, grazed my chest and burrowed in mind
No tears to end the spark.
My vision left un-blind
Bright yellow, orange, sometimes scorching white
To crave a crave is sick until you get it in your sight
Questioning the failed ignite, asking if you really wish it would
Holding a torch to a spark as if the burn misunderstood.
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