Christina Perri - Jar of Hearts Official Video

Heart For Sale

What is love

I close my eyes and whisper your name. Having sprayed your cologne on my pillow, sometimes it eases the pain.

How I hate myself for loving you, knowing that I really never had you. I realize the game, I am aware of how it is played.

I can ignore the broken heart, I can distract myself with other things but I cannot erase the memories of all the places we have been.

A stab, a prick, torn apart. The memories are relentless, abusive and abrasive. Mocking me, taunting me, a reminder of all you did.

I am angry at myself, at you and at a heart that is unconditional. I am sad for you, for me, for having been defeated by my own love for someone proven unworthy.

Not the first. I know how the game is played. I am sure it will be played again. A new cast, a new script that changes day, by day.

I have seen beyond the words that defined what I thought we were once all about.

So tell me, what is love?

Peaceful Slumber

I watch their faces and put stories to their lives; the nameless who pass by. Sincere and beaten smiles, those lost in their own thoughts, the angry and the sad. I watch them all, wondering where they are going and from where they came.

I catch the glances and see the eyes filled with questions. I soak in the emotion. Souls so bare and so guarded.

Often wondering why I carry the weight of nameless others. Wishing I could change the challenges and obstacles they face - in their life story that I have created. My heart breaks for the tears and frowns of strangers, for beggars and fools.

I often imagine what it will be like when the journey ends. I close my eyes and imagine emptiness, silence. I remove thoughts, emotions, dreams. I forget happiness and heartbreak.

I still don't have an answer, although every day brings us closer to the knowledge we seek - but do not want to be part of.

I guess I did not care before I was here and I likely will not care when I am gone.

A peaceful slumber.

A love Poem

Let me be the one that inspires you to love, to release your fears like a prisoner set free from the chains that bind them.

My eyes, a window opening and my voice a whisper calling you forth.

Let my touch lift your consciousness - so that we may fly free of time, of body, of limitations.

Let me inspire you to love, for as long as I live, my love is already yours....

A flame lit before the begining of time, one with creation.

Even should you forget me.

I imagine love

I imagine love as a dandelion.  Bright and welcoming, shining with an intensity like the sun. 

For a time.

As its' cycle completes and the brightness fades, a transformation takes place.

What once was love, is now many seeds or possibilities waiting to be picked and blown into the wind.

What was once love will take root and love will blossom again; for someone else to find.

Is it any more of a blessing to find one to last a lifetime?  Or to be part of experiencing love through the ones we pick along our journey?  Each seed holds with it new possibilities, new life, further adventures.

Does the seed remember the flower it came from?  Does it ever miss it's home?

I imagine love as laughter, but see it in tears.  All delicate in their own way, all as fragile as the dandelion gone to seed.

אהבתי אותך יותר מאשר האהבה עצמה

Sanctuary

Diligo est Silens Veneratio

I feel there comes a time when disclosure, if for no other purpose than closure, becomes a necessary rite.  While there is nothing to be gained, or lost, by such an idea ... it serves to seal the soul and to dispell any doubt or wonder.  It is the embodiement of honor, love and when all is done: silence.

While I titled this post Sanctuary, I also want to call it "156 Friends whom I do not truly know."  The meaning behind that will be known by those to whom it matters.  Moreso, I understand your weakness and your strengths.

I will start this post, this last post on such matters, with this:  I have loved you since the moment I saw you and even before then, when the scent of chrome filled the air... before you were even visible.  I have loved you when you lied, deceived and left me broken.  Indeed, I have always loved you and continue to, yet even love has its' limitations in a physical manifestation.  So now, I have decided, to love you silently - from a distance - where you can no longer hurt me nor lie to me.  Yet, it hurts me all the same.

Most people who read my blog or follow me on FaceBook are aware of my relationship situation.  They have seen my random comments, my displeasures, my hurt and my anger.  Truthfully, I regret the hateful and personal attacks I have made.  I do, however, stand behind them.  They were provoked and while I could have risen above, pain leaves little in the way of being a better man.  It is hard for me to see (or hear) half-truths and not react.  I want and will get the justice I feel is deserved for all that has been done.  It is truth I want - though there may be a different side (or perception) to every story.. there is always and only one truth.

Let common sense be your guide.

I am not innocent.  No one ever is.  I have made decisions and done things which compromise my integrity, my better judgment and at times my own heart.  Yet, I can stand fast to the fact that my world revolved around this one person entirely, without exception, until I began to learn that they were not as true to me.

From there, the more I learned of their own ill behavior, I too cheated.  I became the exact thing that I hated so much in others.  Until one day, when we both had a moment of clarity and all was layed out on the table.  At that moment, our relationship began to feel more solid.  I bent my own rules and tried my hand at a relationship which allowed moments of what I considered inappropriate behavior shielded by rules and boundaries.

It did not work.  Rules were not followed and their behavior continued, without my knowledge, while I was away working.  Which is fine, as I never wanted an open relationship to begin with - the thought is repulsive in any normal state of mind.

As the lies continued, I became more distant.  Every lie caught was always 'the last lie,' until the next one that was unearthed and that too became 'the last lie/'  It became obvious that me, our pets, our relationship and the time we had invested in each other was not more important than the random encounters and 'friends' made during a hook-up. 

I have often been told, by my ex, that had I let them 'have friends' they would never have cheated.  It's a concept I find funny and depressing at once.  I never stopped anyone from having friends, however, you tend to go into a relationship with friends you had before -- and then you tend to make friends while IN a relationship from common acquantainces, work and so forth.  NOT from online sites which are geared towards casual sexual encounters, yet that is what they chose in large amounts.

I guess had they not destroyed my faith and my ability to trust them, things wouldn't have been so harsh.  They are quick to forget the cause of the things they complain about.  The things they did which created those situations.

I was hopeful, when I purchased my home, that things would be better.  I remember the conversation clearly: do NOT disrespect my home, trick in my home, etc.  If that is the case, break up and move on. 

It is, however, exactly what they did.  So many people in my home, SLEEPING in my home, having sex with my boyfriend in my home and even his talking to me while his tricks were in my home.  Now, the home I worked so hard for three years to accomplish disgusts me and reminds me of nothing more than my boyfriends poor choices.  Thank you for ruining a happy time in my life.

What is most painful... is that they did not care anouth about me, nor themselves, to have protected sex.  How would you feel if you knew your boyfriend had been barebacked by two HIV positive people, without your knowledge and then was trying to have anal sex with you when you were intoxicated. 

Every day.... I have to worry and wonder what six month or a year may bring.  I have gone 39 years without a single STD and now, every day, I have to worry because of a choice that I did not make.

Yet, I hear about their cries of a 'psycho' ex-boyfriend and how much they 'miss me' or are having a hard time 'getting over me.'  They tell stories of how horrible I was to obtain a restraining order (yet they fail to mention how they've stalked me) and they talk of me 'jocking;' their phone -- yet they are the ones who continued to call and beg me to take them back....  while still telling lies.

They tell bits and pieces of the whole in an attempt to make people feel sorry for and provide support to them.  It angers me, regardless if it should or not.  Stop telling lies and focus on the truth; at least than, if nothing more, they would be respectable.

What is most sad is that despite it all.... I love them and I miss them.  My dogs miss them and how it breaks my heart each time the dogs look, wait and anticipate their return.  Sometimes, I do the same thing.

The truth of the matter is, when you are sorry or remorseful for something you have done that you shouldn't; you do not continue to repeat the same actions (and certainly not for years).  You do not immediately run back and do the things which caused you to lose what you cared so much for and you do something to prove your intentions.

Nothing was ever done and again my heart broke.

So while stories are told as a rally cry....  I sit putting pieces back together of a life and home that is empty.  I sit and try to rationalize the four empty years that I have invested in someone that treated me as nothing more than a means to an end ..... I worry about the long term impact on my health, because of them and throughout it all I miss them and still love them. 

Believing in people, loving them with all of yourself and not giving up on any one is how I was raised.  It is who I am.  It is what I believe, even when the person who I care for throws petty slurs and comments about my family..or more directly about my deceased mother.  Even still...

So, this is it.  The last comment, discussion, rambling.  This is all that will be said about my last relationship.  It is sealed, done and yes, my heart breaks and hurts... my heart is lonely all the same.  However, I have lost more important things in my life -- I can survive anything.  Just as I survive daily anxiety and panic attacks from the stress that I experience every day due to this broken relationship.

So do not ask me about my ex, do not tell me about picking sides, or that he emailed you talking shit about me.  I do not care.  I do not care what he says, what lies or possible truths he may mention or who he makes plans with.  It is no longer my concern.

The truth always comes out, in the end and does not require any other intervention. Let common sense be your guide.

I removed them for a reason and I tried again, but still I ended it.

And my heart is broken, empty, lonely....

But I was not important enough then or weeks ago.  The truth remains, there was no love and that is more hurtful than anything else.

So there is no more drama, he said or she said, it is about action and common sense. 

I have washed my hands of it. It hurts......  :(



It's just a little bit funny...

I have a lot of free time at the moment.  My work has slowed down, which gives me the opportunity to enjoy my new home - unfortunately it also means I don't have a paycheck.  Either way, I am sure things will work  out - they always seem to - so I keep on trying.

Even for a lot of free time, despite my desperate search for a local job in this shark market, I have a sense of being overwhelmed.  If it isn't my anxiety, which my ex-boyfriend's lies and behavior tend to keep rather peaked, its my dogs... God love them, they are such sweethearts but the one has had to go and it breaks my heart.

I just can't manage it all alone.  It's a lot of work to manage a house, a disorder, a job search and to fight with a heart that is somewhat cracked (certainly not broken) along with a steady stream of lies and promises.

There was a time when I would have taken my ex back.  Despite the dirty things he has done to me throughout our relationship.  From leaving me stranded in various states, using me, living off me, cheating on me, disrespecting me... I even tried the 'semi-open-relationship' route ... but that didn't work either, because he was still a whore outside of our 'rules.'  Plus, that wasn't the mindset going into the relationship.  It was not what I wanted and according to him (all revealed as lies now) it wasn't what he wanted either.

I forgave more than any sane person would have.  I am not even certain why I did.  I think it's a combination of time invested, caring for someone, being worried for them and also wanting to believe in them.

That is probably the top answer:  wanting to believe.  Don't we all want to believe in someone?  To think that the promises and talk you hear is true ... with depth, passion and meaning?  I know I did and even though I knew it wasn't, I hoped it was.

Now, even as they stalk people on my facebook (lol-pointless process nonetheless), while they immediately resort back to the same behavior that helped end our relationship, as they failed to prove themselves in any sense (even though they begged and pleaded for a chance to)... as everything negative about them is the same as it always has been and always will be...  they send me texts and voice mails about how much they love me, miss me and want to be with me.  It's a twisted little game; if I were able to assume they were on alcohol or drugs it would make more sense, but unfortunately that is not the case.

They expect those words will get them back where they were.  I don't blame them, if I could live in someones house who is hardly ever around, pay money here and there when I can - just to have it spent back on me and turn their house into my own personal brothel.... I guess I'd miss it too above sleeping on someones sofa in the ghetto.

But love....  it's an empty word and one they are not educated about enough to say.

To add insult to injury, as well as to peak my anxiety and excite my rage, to allow a third party to disrespect me?  That is where the line is drawn.  You choose in life who and what matters most to you -- for many years they decided that was tricks, acquaintances and fair weathered 'friends.'  -- but never me.

And although all these people existed... it was only I that was ever there for them; it was me who was important when they needed something they they or someone else couldn't provide.  Still, they were never there for me.  Not once in the course of our relationship, even when they could, did they ever do - give - fulfill a promise - anything.... for me.  ((sigh)) hindsight is 20/20

Love is not a simple word,  it is an action.  Just as caring, loyalty, respect are all actions. 

His words were empty and always proven to be false.  It is no longer a surprise, a pain, a loss... it's a disappointment and time wasted that I can recover.

Who will show those words in action, as much as I can?

Paparazzi

I've always said that I never wanted to be one of the pretty people or part of the popular scene of look-a-likes and act-a-likes. Nor have I wanted to be the coked up, muscleboy in the spotlight. Popular for no reason, like a Paris Hilton with a cock.

Maybe that's not completely true and just a self defense mechanism. Just a way to let go of younger ambitions that now, years later, are dusty and incomplete.

I've been blessed to know many people, to have my thirty minutes of fame - while some have only 15 or non, to have incredible friends and been to incredible places. Yet, when all is said and done, I am sitting here alone.

I have never understood why some men are so taken by me. With just one conversation, their universe is me. How flattering it feels and how it kept me up high when I was younger. I guess I was more popular than I thought.

Yet, when all is said and done, I am sitting here alone.

I've tried to be what others wanted, bent myself to keep people happy, I've been passive, aggressive, angry and a lover. I've played bad boy and innocent - even took on the role of boy and girl.

I have used sex as control. While you snorted coke, I was being held down and penetrated to feel my high.

Who I was changed day by day. A script written for the people or circumstances I was in - never me on the surface.

Now I sit here alone. Alone I am comforted, I know who I am now. My heart not broken by choices or mistakes - I feel free.

Even still.. I have saved you a seat, next to me. Ever hopeful still.

- What Are You Doing New Year's Eve Diana Krall ? -

Mysteries

In the silence of my mind I can hear your whispers, like a soft rain, reminding me of who I am.

Your voice, much like a beacon to lost ships, leading me back to the person I was and scoulding me gently for having lost sight of what I had once held so important.

Displacing the illusion that only life can hold truth and opening my eyes to the mysteries that exist beyond what can be seen or touched.

Suddenly, what once were secrets begin to unfold around me like a thousand stars dancing. Each point of light speaking answers to questions only my heart remembers.

In the silence, in the darkness, in the void created by a broken heart my tears are mine alone and through them the strength to face the chaos each new day may bring.

Learn to say Good Bye.

God has offered us comfort, in our most painful moments, with promises we know to be true:

That good byes said today, will be joyful reunions tomorrow;
That broken hearts are temporary
and love eternal.

God has given us memories, whispers of those we love, so they are never too far -- even, if for a time, they are untouchable.

Down the rabbit hole

"Remember your Creator before the silver cord is cut, or the golden bowl is broken, or the pitcher shattered at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the well." -- Ecclesiastes 12:6

I lay in the darkness, waiting for sleep that does not come. My anxious desires betray me, as I stare through closed eyes into the void. Watching the colors dance, like stars, in the sky mocking me for being grounded.

I wait and welcome the sensations as they slowly begin to take over. As my body begins to vibrate and the roaring of oceans fill my mind. I try to move, but cannot. Paralyzed, I smile inwardly knowing that soon I will be free.

I think of the stars that I saw, which have now fled to another place and suddenly I can sense the rush of air as it passes around me. I keep distant my fear of the darkness, the speed, the sound and I think of you.

Now, in a room without walls, I am sitting across from you and we are talking - in silence. I can see you clearly as we discuss the many things I never had the chance to say. I am happy to know that the end is truly another begining.

All too quickly, you begin to fade as the distance between us becomes greater. I reach out, but find nothing. I tell myself that I will remember, I won't let myself forget... not again.

As the alarm clock rings... I try to remember my strange, but familiar, dream and cannot.

Once again, I forgot.

The Source of Life

How long can you continue to race against the pain? How far can you run before you fall, before you succumb, to the fears that wait to overtake you.

To throw you.
To break you.

How many peaceful nights can you toss and wake in panic. How many tears can you cry, when no one else is watching you.

What does it take to accept the unknown and to let go.

Let go.

Let go of the suffering, the pain, the questions.

How many illusions can you weave, that you lay as bricks of a fortress to guard you.

I search for you, your existance. I want to know the truth of the mystery, the play, whose script we read from daily.

Your voice has grown softer. I fight to hear you clearly. How cruel can memories be, when your heart is already broken.

I am

I am wondering about mysteries; about the visions that exist in hallucinations, in the darkness of fears and in the void of moments lost. I am wondering about creation and if I have always been there. From the beginning.. watching as a spirit dancing in a sea of souls yearning for home.

Looking in the mirror I can see the images of my past, who I was, who I have become and who I wanted to be. I wanted you to love me, to hate me, to worship me, to fill me with hopes and dreams.

Drunken in the chaos I created, I yelled for help. I reached out my hand to be your support, your guide. To free you from fear and sadness. I lifted you, with hopes that it would give me strength to lift myself from the thorns. I accepted your pain, but emptiness was still all I had.

In the stillness, in my peace, I have let my ego go. In the silence, in my minds eye, I see clearly.

Listen to me, let my stories fill your mind with visions. I am here just for that, for you, to feed your soul and hold you up wrapped in the suns light.

I am here. As I always have been, as I always will be. Created and creator. The pureness of love.

Frozen

I have tried to write this one post so many times it has become frustrating. There are so many thoughts, emotions, memories... everything is just jumbled together. How do I put order to such a random array?

I made it out of Kansas (thank God) and am now back in Florida. It is nice to be back, but a lot of the 'magic' that made me love the state seems to be missing. It is either missing, or my perceptions and expectations have changed. I have not quite figured out which it is.

Memories of my mother come and go. I find myself fighting to remember her voice, her common quotes. Trying to piece together memories, promises and understand that my questions will have to go unanswered for now. I have come to understand my ability to compartmentalize emotions without thinking. It has been an effective self defense mechanism, but nothing comes without a price. Sometimes I have to ask myself if the price for feigned peace of mind is worth it.

Lately I struggle with feelings of being trapped and motionless. My life seems stagnant and that is something it has never been. Is this the effect of growing old? If so, I want no part of it. A fading star... excitement transforming into unsettled tranquility. Like standing in a crowd that slowly begins to dissolve. What point is there in living an unquestioned, unacknowledged life?

I try to have faith, I try to find answers but for every answer I think I find only more questions appear. I cannot help but wonder, from my own life experiences, what if we have gotten it all wrong? What if our belief systems are mistaken?

What if God were as close as our next dream?

The comfort of routine

I had a friend ask me recently why I collected so many books, or I think to be more exact, if I was building a library. I found it interesting that I never really stopped to consider why I was doing it, although I knew I had some basic reasons. I find comfort in them, regardless if I pick them up to read or not. I find and value a sense of wisdom that comes before the idea of being 'politically correct,' and I like to think that I am protecting memories or ideas from disappearing.

The truth of the matter is I wanted to share them with my mother. Of course all the other reasons are valid, but the motivation was to sit and talk about them with her.

I continue to do it and I am sure that somewhere it's just because my nature is to spend money (not your average jew) but it's also a routine now. A routine I continue because it gives me comfort... because I was doing it to share with someone else.

Something is missing and I notice it every time I look in the mirror. My eyes don't look alive anymore, there is a void and darkness that is physically obvious.

I don't even think I know how to grieve openly. It's been so long since I allowed myself to do that. I believe strength is required to survive and the ability to overcome any obstacle and move forward, without delay, is necessary to avoid falling prey to pain.

You certainly can't think straight, support others, or maintain your focus when you're weak and lost in despair.

I cannot even cry and I want to. I feel it, but nothing comes out. I try and remember her voice and it is like a whisper now.... it hasn't even been that long. If people could hear me repeating the things she said to me, so often, in my mind - over and over - they would think I was truly psychotic.

I am so afraid I'll forget.

I daydream of taking my mother places and doing things with her that I knew she would enjoy. Things that she didn't have the chance to enjoy for so long. I daydream of helping her, of watching her regain her sense of self and value... of her being who she was before it was lost.

It doesn't last for long and then I see her lying on the floor barely conscious... I imagine her fear as she hears the paramedics and is rushed into the hospital. I imagine the pain and stress on her body as her heart fails and as she is brought 'back to life.'

I sense the pain in being unable to speak, or move. I can feel trapped myself, as if I was there. I can imagine her screaming in her mind...trying so hard to speak....as she hears the doctors, the crying, the voices all announcing her departure.

Most of all, I can feel her heart breaking as they sat the phone next to her so she could possibly hear me on the speaker .. telling her that I was driving, as fast as I could, to get there and to just hold on. I would do something to make it better.

I lost something at 10:47am on April 24th....I feel the void that it left every moment of every day.

It is not a void that time, kind words, beautiful cliches, or happy memories will fix or fill.

When my mother's heart failed, for the last time, mine left to find her.

Voices

It's been a month, plus some, since my mother passed away. I cannot exactly say how I am doing. I am doing what any one can do, I assume, I am simply moving forward and trying to stay sane despite all the thoughts, questions and hurt.

Some days are better than others.

I just wish I had a saved voicemail, a letter, a video... something other than pictures to help me remember her. I wish her face while she lay in the coffin wasn't my last solid visual of her.

I keep replaying in my mind, over and over, the words she would always say to me. At first, I heard them as if she spoke them. Her tone so clear in my mind.

But my memory isn't as strong as I would like it to be and slowly the voices begin to fade. So I hold onto them as hard as I can.. repeating over and over the phrases she said with so much love.

The voices have changed; no longer her they are my own.

I learned a long time ago to be strong despite what was happening to me. It became easy for me to pretend that everything is fine, when in the publics eye. Finding quick moments, alone, to quickly feel pain before putting it away again...

Life must go on, eh?

Sometimes it becomes so hard to fight the feelings of regret, anger, hurt and longing to have them back. So many things I would do differently, if only I knew you wouldn't be here right now. If I had known the voices would fade.

A friend, with very good intentions, told me that when people close to them die they view it as 'another angel' watching over them. That idea helps them to cope. If only I could be so easily comforted by the thoughts of angels and being watched over by people no longer here....

I am not so easily comforted.

Sometimes I wish I was alone... away from everything and everyone. I want to scream, fight, cry. I want to hear her voice, not mine, I want to understand.

Sleep gives me hope... I hope for dreams, motion picture memories, something to give a false sense of a different reality...but even dreams are limited for what hope do you have when you know reality will throw you back down when you awake.

It isn't easy... despite what you see.

Don't be dismayed at goodbyes...

"Don't be dismayed at goodbyes.

A farewell is necessary before meeting again,and meeting again after moments or lifetimes is certain for those who are friends." -- Richard Bach, Illusions.

I will never forget when I first read Illusions and Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach; those two books were my shelter at a time when I felt lost and afraid. It seemed to be so full of wisdom and the words wrapped themselves around me, like a protective blanket. In those words I felt invulnerable.

As I grew older, those same words were what I pulled from when it came time to offer comfort to others. Especially the phrase above, my catch all -- Something to say, when silence was the best option, but not the right option.

On Friday, April 24 2009 my mother passed away, unexpectedly. Now I struggle with regret, guilt, 'what if?' and the knowledge that I cannot change the fact that she is dead. What comfort do words offer now... I see past the illusion that any words, no matter how well they mean, can offer comfort to such a loss.

"Soon I will come visit you."

"Soon we will spend some time together."

"No, don't come visit just yet, we'll plan something soon."

"I love you."

There are many things that haunt me with my mother's passing. I knew her loneliness and depression. I knew how, above all people, she trusted me to always be there for her and keep her safe. I knew her fears, her hopelessness and her desire for life. I knew she wanted out of the pit that held her captive.

"Now, as my heart breaks, I have learned how long soon can become. Not as quick as necessary, not as comforting as once thought.

I have learned that life should not be about soon, but now. That each moment is precious, each second irreplaceable.

That as quickly as your heart beats, it can break."

My mother died a month before her sixty third birthday. She died unhappy, lonely and with a feeling of worthlessness. She died an unnecessary death and while it is not the 'proper' thing to say... her death was rooted in neglect, because had we cared more... showed more... helped more... loved more than perhaps she would have found the strength to overcome her demons. We did not and neither did she.

"What memories do I have? That while others said 'soon,' 'maybe,' or 'no' my mother always said 'yes.'

That she, unlike so many others, would sacrifice herself - without thought - to see someone she cared for happy.

She would do without, so you did not have to."

Death does not make a person become a saint and there is no one that I know who is perfect. However, what I can say is that my mother's flaws were over shadowed by her heart. A beautiful person, full of love and compassion who never learned to let go of all the hurt that life had brought her way. Her hurts turned to disease and when it was time for my brother and I to take care of the person who gave up herself to take care of us... we did a little, but not enough.

People would say that we did everything we could. They would say that you cannot blame yourself, you cannot feel guilty. I say fuck them and their petty cliche, fuck them and their chorus of "she wouldn't have changed," fuck them and their empty words of her being in a 'better place.' Who the fuck are they to say what is better or what is enough? I do feel guilty, I do blame myself and I am angry... I am so fucking angry at myself and all the people around me who could have cared more and didn't.

"So many people said they had forgotten how beautiful my mother was. So many people... why had they forgotten?

They did not forget how beautiful she was - they had simply forgotten her.

They forgot about friendships, they forgot to be there for someone in need.

They forgot the importance of love, support and intervention to lift someone lost in depression.

They forgot to care."

It has been over two weeks since she passed away and I still feel numb. I've tried to keep my mind occupied, simply to delay the process of coming to terms with her being gone. I still pick up my phone, with the thought to call her and then realize how I cannot. I hear her voice in my mind and have conversations about all the things I wanted to do for her. I don't want her gone, because I do not know where she is.

I am okay as long as I keep my mind occupied.

I've lost my mother, my friend, the person who has always cared for me and who I could tell anything to. I lost her before I could do all the things I wanted to ... because I was too busy with my own life. Too selfish and lost in my own world to hear her small cries for help.

I wonder if she knows how much I love her, how much regret my brother feels and how much my heart is breaking?

I hope that as you read this you take another look at your relationship with your parents. That you take the time to consider those that are lonely, hurt or fighting demons of their own. If that situation exists in your life, perhaps you may want to think of what difference a little more love may make.

Time doesn't always mend a broken heart.

There will come a time to conquer

I pride myself on my lack of interest in television. I do not watch it, as a rule, and I very rarely listen to news broadcasts or the radio. Luckily, I have movies, IPod and computerized entertainment to occupy me. When work isn't doing it for me.

While I agree, to a limited degree, with the 'ignorance is bliss' mentality - I cannot help but feel a strange sensation of tension when (in that rare moment) I take the time to play catch up on world events.

As powers shift and change, alliances become distant and countries that the majority of people never think about pick up pace in a race to flex their military muscle... I see history completing it's circle and ready to launch a new lesson our way.

I remember growing up with the threat of a nucleur war and having fall out shelters. I also remember when war became a distant thought and was limited to countries that had no direct impact on our safety.

While I never put much thought into it; it crosses my mind a bit more frequent now. Without going into the cause, such as population expansion or resource acquisition, I believe that war is an unavoidable reality. Not so much a question of "if," but "when."

I don't mean war that we read about and sit feeling sorry for the countless innocent people who live daily with the fear of bombings and invasions; but to ourselves, here. Could the American people handle the psychological impact of a missle wiping a city off the map?

Doubtful. We've been blessed (and cursed) by not having to ever deal with such realities. Pearl Harbor and September 11th being our closest encounter with such an experience -- and while we were fortunate to have a technology to end one 'war,' at an unfortunate cost, we are far from being the only nation able to show a demonstrated force today.

It is sad that peace is so hard to acquire and that tolerance tends to only last a short while. However, I guess that is just the nature of being human in a world filled with such diversity.

It worries me, though and it is my 'prediction' that as we watch situations unfold we will begin to see it take a direction straight towards us.