My Crib's Hell

It's Tuesday afternoon. More precisely, it's a quarter after one. I face to the left, while lying on the sofa, and I see my bedroom door half-way open. Gosh! My bedroom is insanely small. Through that hatch I see my bed that is made and all right... However, on top of it, there are clean clothes waiting to be folded and messy bed sheets too. The bed is placed right next to the window and the windowsill is being used as a jewelry, candy, and other stuff shelf. In fact, there are fake jewelries everywhere in the room. There is also a small wardrobe that for being extremely small its doors don't get to close tight. I can't even fit all clothes I've got in there. Most of my clothing is hanging in a sort of a store hanger. Actually it is a piece of junk I've found dumped on a downtown sidewalk. That hanger was originally a greeting card display which was left out from a stationary store. As soon as I saw it, I figured it could be being used just as a hanger. There are shoes all over the floor too. My bedroom is the physical evidence of the chaos theory. Every single object in it is sitting where it is not supposed to. This whole mess disturbs me real bad. Hey! I forgot to mention a chest of drawers too. Man! That chest of drawers... I share it with Roberto. The bottom drawers are mine. My drawers of that chest are all broken and, ironically, they are my only drawers in the room. This is really ridiculous! But the mess doest not stop there. I also managed to fit an old computer desk and a swimming pool plastic chair in this tiny room as well. Have I mentioned that my bedroom is really small? On the computer desk, you will find pretty much anything you can imagine: dirty clothes, a useless cellphone, two good ones, two alarm clocks, a disk man, a micro tape recorder (for writer's reminders), a case of coloring pencils made in Germany, books, more fake jewelries, more dirty clothes... Ah! ENOUGH! This is scaring the hell out of me already. I've heard from somewhere that the way your crib looks or it is organized represents the way your life is or it shows how your brain has been functioning. Well, taking that into account makes me feel so much better. What a relief! My bedroom is not upside down because of my mental disability and incapacity to categorize, sort out, and put away my belongings. No! It is not my laziness and carelessness that are pushing me not to get organized. It is all hidden in my psyche. I don't actually need a chambermaid to help me out on that. I only need therapy. The messy room is just my disturbed mind transcending through my house objects. Good grief! To the next step, I'll just need to believe in fung shuei. This was what I needed! Come on! Excuse me! Helloooo! I must move my ass and put my stuff away without making bones about it. My bedroom is just not me. It's bloody disgusting, for Christ's sake. It is just not acceptable. I don't really appreciate sleeping in a room like that. I'm simply terribly disappointed with myself. :-(

still copying and pasting... too much in my head now

Overheads
by a blogger friend

You’ve forced me into love
With every inch of your skin
With every single skeleton left in your empty closets
With bats swooping along overheads
With ever sorrow sigh
Force me into nothing new
Force me into hating you
Cause I’m sick of waking up to every rising sun
Wondering why you're not there
One more moment by your side
One more chance to have your hands intertwined with mine
Before you ever left
I could have told you how much I really still cared
But airports and plan rides
Have their way of blocking my words and admitting everything I need to say
Oh I know there’s always something to blame
Right now I could sit here
I could sulk over every moment I could've said "hi"
Or every moment I could've sat by you’re side
But that would just be a waste of time
I hope this was worth getting up for
Everything is worth waking up for
Darkened rooms
Dreary skies
They're addicted to overcast
Soften lips
Licked with grace
There kissed with painful times
They want silence: the meaning of broken hearts
Holding on tight
I stayed up embraced to the notebook that holds my thoughts
Conveying them all to the words
That controls every element of my feeling
Why does it have to be?
That I can’t stop grabbing a hold every word you put down in ink
to smudge the words
That I can’t stop myself to seek
To find everything you ever wanted to find
I need to stop myself to care
So please stop caring

Smiling hurts

There are a few things that are helping me place some smile upon my face which are...: Beckett fiction // Art-art-A R T // Linguistics // Wine // German exercises // and my writing pad.

How do you know if you're addicted to porn?

I know these kind of topics can be really serious and stuff, but I can't help to notice its delicate touch of hilarity. I've located this test to find out whether you are or not addicted to pornography. I couldn't stop laughing at it, so I had to post it.

"The following questions are excerpted and adapted from Hope and Recovery-A Twelve Step Guide for Healing From Compulsive Sexual Behavior. These questions do not constitute a standardized test designed to diagnose addiction. Those who answer yes to many of these questions will find that they have common experiences with pornography addicts. It is the hope of the authors of these questions that those who answer "Yes" to any of these questions will carefully consider the effects their sexual thoughts and behaviors have on their lives today. Those who do have concerns about their sexual thoughts and behaviors need to know that they can get help and support.

Answer Yes or No to:

1)Do you sense that your sexual thoughts and/or behaviors are causing problems in your life?

2)Have sexual thoughts interfered with your ability to function at work or at school?

3)Do you worry that your sexual thoughts and/or behaviors are more powerful than you are?

4)Do you sometimes think that you are the only person who has certain sexual thoughts or engages in certain sexual behaviors?

5)Do you fail to meet commitments or fail to carry out responsibilities because of your involvement with pornography?

6)Do you struggle to control or completely stop your thinking about or viewing pornography?

7)Do you view pornography in order to escape, deny, or numb your feelings?

8)Do you think about sex more than you would like to?

9)Do you spend more money than you can afford to spend on pornography? (kkkkk...)

10)Does it seem as though there is another person or force inside of you that drives you to pornography?

11)Do you have two standards of fidelity -- one for yourself and one for your spouse or partner?

12)Do you feel empty or shameful after viewing or masturbating using pornography?

13)Have you ever promised yourself that you would never again view pornography?

14)Do you use pornography to deal with, deny, or avoid problems in your life?

15)Do you risk legal problems in order to view pornography?

16)Do you anxiously anticipate or fear trips out of town because of what you think you might do sexually while you're away?

17)When you have child care responsibilities, do you put a higher priority on masturbating or being sexual than you do on the welfare of the child(ren) in your care?

18)Do your sexual thoughts and/or behaviors interfere with your spiritual or religious life? Do your sexual thoughts and/or behaviors cause you to believe that you don't deserve to have a religious or spiritual life?

19)Have you lost a job or risked losing a job because of your involvement with pornography?

20)Do you scan printed material (novels, newspapers, magazines) or change channels on the television set just to find something that will stimulate you sexually?

21)Do you regularly view pornography or engage in fantasies involving self-abuse or other kinds of physical abuse?

22)Do you dig through other people's garbage to find pornography?

23)Would you rather masturbate than be sexual with a partner?

24)Do you drive around unfamiliar neighborhoods (cruise) hoping to find places where pornography is available? (Lord help me...my stomach is hurting!)

25)Do you look at pornography or masturbate while driving? (Ok! Does anyone have painkillers? I'm about to die here!)

26)Have you replaced a collection of pornographic material after destroying one collection and vowing never to purchase pornography again?

27)Has an important relationship in your life ended because of your inability to stop looking at pornography?"

This test was found on this link!

Wishes

by Laila Chris
I wish I were gone
I wish I could write for real
I wish my friends were around
I wish they never lied to me
I wish I hadn't drown in this high tide
I wish so many things
I also wish that those many things weren't needed...
I wish I were taller
I wish I had more pleasures in life
I wish life hadn't abandoned me in the ocean
I wish the ocean were gray
I wish I could hide better my filthiness
I wish I believed in supernatural forces
I wish God believed in me
I wish so many things
I also wish that those things weren't too many
I wish I were smarter
I wish I didn't disappoint that much
I wish I could find all cures
I wish my fingers tips answered faster
I wish those answers had been enough
I wish so many things
I also wish that some of those things were tangible
I wish I were Lispector

This is Clarice Lispector, someone I won't ever be like...

I haven't been back yet... Just copying and pasting good stuff

I've found this post on someone else's blog. The author allowed me to publish it here... According to my opinion, some truth about love, divine love, unconditional love, and being loved was said in this text through authentic and clear words. So, it is worth reading it. Unlike it seems, I haven't been back on blogging yet. My life has been upside-down. Too much confusion in this poet's mind. Too much dust piled up on my left shelf. I have got to boost my inner strength and overcome the tempst. God will help me not to forget to write down COFFEE on my grocery shopping list.

"Do you know what it feels like to be loved? Not because you are returning love or because of some kind of exchange, as in “Love me and I will love you!” but just to be loved for no other reason then that you exist. I recently had a conversation with a young lady who has just discovered this. We agreed that it is daunting. There is no expectation, no understanding, no agreement, just love. She keeps looking for the catch and there is none. For most of us, our relationships tend to revolve around agreements, e.g. ; I will live with you if you will live with me and reflect who I am in the manner that I expect. That is how most relationships are. However, when someone says they love you with no expectation of return, that is, or can be, intimidating. It kind of puts you in the position of wondering what is going on. Are they hustling me? Is there something I don’t understand here? And you might look over your shoulder and wonder if maybe this person got the wrong guy/girl. What is funny is that a lot of people will deliberately do something to push the person who is doing the loving away because it just is too much to deal with. And they will do this pushing away quite unconsciously. So what can we do to accept Love in our lives?

The first and foremost step is to recognize that, despite our many flaws - all of whom show up at these moments - we are essentially lovable. This may be the biggest hurdle to get over, that we are loved even though we are quite convinced that we do not deserve it. It has nothing to do with what you deserve and has everything to do with Divine recognition. Something about you stirs an essential response in the person who is loving you and they find it in themselves to acknowledge it. In the case of a spiritual teacher or someone in that category this sort of thing is more or less expected though it can be none the less daunting. When it comes from an individual who is shining the searchlight of their recognition directly upon you personally – well that can be quite uncomfortable.

In the case of my young friend it was almost terrifying. She kept telling me that no one in her life had ever allowed her to be who she is, and that may be key.

People who express love to others almost always do so with some kind of demand. It can be subtle but it will almost always be there. Think about your own expressions. Do you say, “I love you,” with an expectation of hearing it back in return? Do you say it from an overwhelming emotion of deep recognition of the soul of the person before you or is it more in the line of some kind of need for acknowledgment. This can be true even of a mother telling a child they love them, though that does tend to be closer to unconditional. I suspect that, for most of us, any expression of unconditional love has to be preceded by a deep understanding of our own flaws and a willingness to be totally vulnerable with no expectation of any kind of response or return. Which should give us a profound clue as to the true nature of the Divine Being or the Thinking Universe or however we accept the Over soul.

Love & Blessings, Musawwir"

www.needsometimealone.com

This link's got a smile out of me even though I haven't been much OK these days... http://www.voicesnet.org/poetrydisplay.aspx?poemid=95853 I'll be back soon... Hopefully.

I normally write my thoughts, madness, and anxieties, but this time I've decided to rely on music. That video got me because I love the band and the story behind it couldn't be funnier. Some of you may like it or not. I do! I'll be back here in a couple of days or maybe weeks. I've got some important issues to work on. See you all later! Now, let me have some fun.

THAT "YO LA TENGO" VIDEO HAS BEEN REMOVED

days of our lives (lol)

Today's Saturday. It feels like those lazy Saturdays. I normally can't wait for the weekend, however when weekend's arrived, I do wish it were a Tuesday.

I love Tuesdays. This is the day when my cleaning lady comes by. She helps me do the dishes, laundry, and more. She cares for animals, especially cats, just like me. Wherever she goes in the house, my kitty follows her; it is incredible how much Tibby likes her company. Her name's Odete, btw.

I appreciate Tuesdays rather than any other day of the week not just for that, there are more reasons. I guess it is because this is the day that I am tired the least. I normally teach my best classes on Tuesdays. Well, I don't mean that on the other days my classes suck, I just don't feel the same enthusiasm like I do on Tuesdays.

Mardi, Martes, Dienstag, मंगलवार, Terça-Feira is my favorite day of the week no matter how weird this may sound. In Hebrew, the days of the week are simply numbered, except for the 7th, which is the Sabbath (Shabbat). That means I could start enjoying number "3" as well... 3 is really an awesome number. It does make sense now.

While the languages of Western Europe came up with names for the days of the week based upon the names of the naked eye planets, which included the Sun and the Moon, Portuguese culture went on against that trend. The days of the week in my language are ordinal numbered words, more closely related to the Mediterranean style. Tuesday = TERÇA-FEIRA.

On the other hand, Tuesday doesn't sound anything like Mars. Actually, Tuesday is named after Tiw, a god of law, but it is also said to be a god of war, which would match up to Mars. Yuck, Laila!!! Who wants to know about those things??? Being honest here, that's basically what I study every day, so this sort of subjects do get my attention a great deal.

I know this post has become lame and stuff. Who in heavens would write about days of the week? Right, I agree. Only a creepo like me could do such a thing. It takes guts to publish a text about it, doesn't it? Or maybe not. It's not about guts. It takes to be a poet to stop to analyze about a so simple subject: TUESDAY.

The worst is that today's not Tuesday. Can I say that "the best thing about being a poet is that we can turn any day as our favorite one"? Tuesday is the official day of self-portraits too. See? One more reason to make this Saturday look more like my style.

"I just love these lazy fake Tuesdays..."

Jules's February Game

In order to be part of Jules's February game, I decided to post this thing here. You'll eventually figure out that this was a comment I had published some time ago at someone else's blog. I believe it deserves to be turned into a whole new entry for my spot because I simply crack up every time I read it. Here it is. Those words were my comments on Rain's post about her irritants. It is true that I sort of didn't follow the game rules. The thing is that I didn't retrieve an old post from my "archives" as Jules had stablished so I am breaking the rules literally... but what are rules made for???


Laila said...
Super, Rain! That's the kind of post that gets my attention. Because of it, you are linked to my spot. I simply love making lists.

Ten things that I hate... Hum! Let me see! Here I go:

1)Having to stop at a gas station to fill up the tank just right before going to a party or restaurants. I'm normally starving to death prior the munchtime. Why can't we fill the tank on the way back?

2)Students that miss classes and don't excuse on that.

3)Hate doing the dishes, the laundry, the cleaning... you name it.

4)Hate having periods. I've got the worst pms. I wanna reborn a man - a hairy one - soaked in testosterone so that there is not a slight chance of wishing to have those sex changes.

5)Hate soups when I am not sick. But when I am sick and that is the only thing I'm allowed to eat, so then I love it.

6)Hate when my computer shuts down by its own wish... it's because I sometimes hit accidently a key which is located right next to the 'enter' and 'delete' buttons. I had just done that while typing the introduction to this comment. So therefore I am typing key by key carefully and skillfully in order to avoid getting a nervous breakdown.

7)I hate when my hubby forgets to do something. He doesn't make lists. He doesn't write reminder notes. He doesn't set his cell or computer alarms to go off and this way he could remember to have whatever is needed to be done.

8)Hate when people who know me try to call my attention on the streets or malls by whistling or making those weird sounds. I know they mostly intend to chat a be nice, but why can't they shout "Laila"?

9)Hate seeing garbage on the floor - specially in public places. What's up with those piggies who can't walk extra yards just to dump their trash into a wastebasket???? Would they throw their used toilet paper on the bathroom floor if the trashcan were placed far from the bowl???

10)Hate having zitts on my butt - but that is a too personal hatred which may not concern the general and average blog reader!!!

Life without poetry would never make sense

As I have always been crazy about world poetry, I could not miss the chance to post this Russian poem that once and ever has made my personal history. I love it. I love it without limits - no exceptions. There are no flaws in it. Someone may be thinking:" Gosh! She is just exaggerating..." Honestly, I don't quite think so - It is just perfect.

Untitled and unfinished

1.

She loves me—loves me not.
My hands I pick
and having broken my fingers
fling away.
So the first daisy-heads
one happens to flick
are plucked,
and guessing,
scattered into May.
Let a cut and shave
reveal my grey hairs.
Let the silver of the years
ring out endlessly !
Shameful common sense –
I hope, I swear –
Will never come
to me.

2.

It’s already two.
No doubt, you’ve gone to sleep.
In the night
The Milky Way
with silver filigrees.
I don’t hurry,
and there is no point in me
waking and disturbing you
with express telegrams.

3.

The sea goes to weep.
The sea goes to sleep.
As they say,
the incident has petered out.
The love boat of life
has crashed on philistine reefs
You and I
are quits.
No need to reiterate
mutual injuries,
troubles
and griefs.

4.

D’you see,
In the world what a quiet sleeps.
Night tributes the sky
with silver constellations.
In such an hour as this,
one rises and speaks
to eras,
history,
and world creation.

5.

I know the power of words, I know words’ toxins.
They’re not the kind applauded by the boxes.
From words like these coffins burst from the earth
and on their own four oaken legs stride forth.
It happens they reject you, unpublished, unprinted.
But saddle-girths tightening words gallop ahead.
See how the centuries ring and trains crawl
to lick poetry’s calloused hands.

I know the power of words. Seeming trifles that fall
like petals beneath the heel-taps of dance.
But man with his soul, his lips, his bones…


by Vladimir Mayakovsky 1894-1930

I didn't kill Kenny... I swear!

Hehehehe... I loved my "South Park" image created by my dearest student Felipe. He couldn't depict me better through this figure:

"What's the big fucking deal, biootch???" by Cartman

Testimony of a Kidnapped Cat

A FURY TALEby Tibby Farinelli
I came to Laila's house almost a year ago. In fact, I didn't arrive here alone at first. I came in a shoe box that had some holes poked. I shared that box with my brother. We spent some hours together there but then we took different paths. He was adopted by Marciano - one of Laila's student. I got to stay in. Speaking of my brother, I haven't seen him since then, but I don't really miss him. Cats are raised to become independent beings. Well... Independent to some extent...

Laila's been a great owner. Laila and Roberto are really wonderful to me. They feed me, take me to our family vet, shower me, clean my litter box constantly, and even give me medicines that are needed to provide me a healthy lifestyle. Besides being a nice Siamese cat and all, I can't hide the fact that I am this curious animal that have those urges to venture for the sick pleasure of different smells and textures.

God! I can't see a door, a window, cabinets, or drawers semi or wide open - I will always try to walk out, fit me in, and I'll do all that by using my sneaky ways. Last Thursday morning, I had my last attempt. Roberto had brought Laila breakfast in a bag and left the front door not well shut. A-ha! I couldn't resist. I had been craving to play in the yard for days. I had a blast.

There were butterflies, bees, flies, beetles, flowers... awh! And the grass? Oh man, the grass dew touching my fur refreshed me. Roberto and Laila seemed to have forgotten me for some minutes (breakfast time) - so I decided to challenge myself. "What if I try to cross the street? Interesting!" You know, my owners rent this huge school/house which is located on one of the busiest avenues in town. There are cars, buses, vans, motorcycles, bikers passing by all the time... Ah! Let us not forget the pedestrians! Hey! Pedestrians? Yeah!

While I was trying to go across the avenue, this strange person (sorry readers, but due to the trauma I went through, the image of this person is very blurry in my memory, so I can't tell whether this person was a man or a lady... whether he/she was a child or an elderly)... so, this strange "individual" called my attention and convinced me to be petted. In a matter of seconds, I was in this person's arms being taken to some place that I wasn't familiar with. I tried to scratch and growl in order to protect me, but all in vain. This "human" was actually kidnapping me. I could not understand his/her reasons for having done that, I just know that I was taken from my place to somewhere else.

My owners gave me a collar where it was printed my name on, my home address and telephone number... there was even the school logo on that orange collar - as most of you know, I am a school mascot and many kids who study there enjoy playing with me. So, how come that "crook" did not send me back home? Of course, because he/she was a crook. Just simple as that. The kidnapper skillfully removed my collar and left me somewhere downtown. I was dropped off at a place that I cannot recall. After walking for so many hours, I winded up at a weird spot where I could see cars, kids, people that I didn't know who were going back and forth... Gee! I felt lost and abandoned. I was hopeless.

Later on, I was told that that place was a parking lot of some sort of commercial building. I would look everywhere at all directions trying to find any familiar face, trying to hear any familiar noise or recognize smells... And everything was so different for me. I thought that my owners didn't love me anymore. I asked myself: "where's my pink "HELLO KITTY" bowl of cat food?", "where's my scratcher?", "where's my fresh water?", and "what about my toys???" OH NO!

In that very morning I was kidnapped, Marciano (my brother's owner) had visited Laila and Roberto. He said he had been missing me so it was worth stopping by at Laila's. But I was not there. My owner told him that the school was gloomy without me. Marciano felt that too. He was sorry for that terrible situation. At that time, I had been missed for 12 hours. And I would spend 17 hours more on the streets downtown completely devastated. I walked and walked hoping to find my home without much headway. I had to hide from other cats and other possible mean humans. I was getting hungry and thirsty more and more.

I was about to have a breakdown when I finally found that parking lot I'd mentioned before and someone from there offered me food and some compassion. But little could that person do. My identification collar had been removed. I was hungry to death but I didn't feel like eating that food. After all, that was not my bowl; that guy was not my owner; that was not my place. I just felt like sleeping. After lunch time, I got up slowly, yawned, stretched like I always do after long hours of cat deep sleep, then I realized some people had gathered around me. I understood they were asking whose cat I was. "She belongs to nobody from around here", that parking lot guy said. I was then grabbed and placed on the right shoulder of a red-headed guy whom I didn't recognize at first. I confess that I wanted to scratch his back with my sharp claws, but he had said my name:"Calm down, Tibby. You're safe now!"

Marciano had found me. My brother's owner was my hero then. For some strange coincidence, he needed to catch a bus from a bus-stop that was located right in front of that very parking lot where I was. And the parking lot was a couple of miles from home. He looked at me from across the street and noticed that I could be Tibby - Laila's missing cat. And that cat was me. He brought me home on foot because the poor guy would not be allowed to get on a bus holding a kitty (I just hate prejudice, folks!). He sent me home safe and sound. And... I did scratch him once or twice on the way... you know, that is a natural self-defense mechanism I've got. It is pretty hard to control it. As soon as I arrived home, Laila held me tight. She hugged me, kissed me, and cried like she was the one who had gotten lost. I think that that was a human reaction related to affection. "Humans, strange material!"

Some changes in the house have been requested. Just because of this terrible event, she's fencing the yard properly and has kept a fat eye on me. Now, my walkabouts include my personal area and that's all. She's also made me read a list of cat duties, like I'd mean them, so that I can become a better kitty for her and Roberto. The list is right below. Check it out:

The 10-step plan to becoming a better cat

#1)I will not perch myself on my humans chest
and stare intently at her all through the night
and I will stop attacking her soft feet,
just because it will soon be daylight.

#2)I will not put my paws in the fish tank,
just to see if the fishy wants to "play"
and if I find any critters while outside,
OUTSIDE is where I'm going to let them stay.

#3)I'll learn how to relax at the vet's office
so everyone will say, " what a nice cat."
Then maybe the will erase what's on my
record, like "mean, a biter and a brat!"

#4)I will not hiss and growl for no reason
or puff up my body twice it's size just for fun.
Especially while my human is watching
a horror movie, cause it just makes her run!

#5)I will stop chewing on her houseplants,
especially those that makes me so sick
and if I vomit up something like a hairball,
I'll do it where she can't step in it and yell, "icky!"

#6)I will not stuff myself into the bird feeder
and expect all the birds just to fly in
and I won't ever chase any more chickens,
'cause they pecked my tail hairless, I can't win.

#7)I will not fall asleep on the stair's step,
because my dear human can trip and fall
and I will try to make a effort to come running,
instead of ignoring my name when she calls.

#8)I will not scratch the children of a lawyer,
no matter if they wool me and pull my tail.
and speaking of scratching, no more on sofas
well, not both claws, maybe just ONE nail.

#9)Hamsters and guinea pigs are the kid's pets,
they are not considered the "other" white meat
and remember, that bugs are NOT for eating,
maybe I can STILL have a cockroach for a treat.

#10)I will never tease the dogs while in the window,
if I fall from the sill, I won't blame anyone
and if the dog hits the wall while chasing me,
I will try not to laugh at him or make fun.

And as for the kitty litter, I will remember
that it is SUPPOSED to stay INSIDE the box,
NOT scattered all outside on the floor...( no
matter how much I enjoy doing it!

© by Rochelle Stanowski

And I took the chance to come up with my own 11Th step which is:

#11)I'll never be a nice kitty to strangers,
especially when I notice there is harm involved.
I am totally allowed to attack! FUCK YEAH!
Or else their souls won't regret having bothered!!!

PS: The kid on that picture who's holding me is Juliano Lampert, another Laila's student. She will certainly publish Marciano's picture as soon as he comes back to visit us. I don't know what could have happened to these folks without me!!!

GUESS WHO'S BACK???

I'll be back later today to share with you all the details of Tibby's saga! For now, she needs to sleep and relaaaaax. She'd like to thank for the prayers and the positive thoughts which helped her return home safe and sound!

God Bless Your Guys' Hearts.

...