tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79711549843366202832024-03-12T18:41:33.668-06:00...Beautiful Lies...-- Pretty Little Liarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08516519746383083962noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7971154984336620283.post-77590439891834264332009-06-01T23:20:00.003-06:002009-06-01T23:30:43.951-06:00Fear and Change<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When your heart starts racing and your hands start shaking, you know that the fear has set in. Fear? Yes…fear. Fear that your world is about to change and you don’t know how to stop it. Fear that you might not want to stop it but you don’t know who you will be or where you will be if you don’t. So your heart races and your hands shake…and you know, without a doubt, that something has to be done. You have to decide, soon, maybe in the next instant, and once that decision has been made it can’t be taken back. So what do you do? Do you embrace the fear and let it seep through you, let it soak into the bone and mix with your marrow? Or do you close yourself off and run, run as fast as you can in the other direction because that change, the unknown change, might be too much, it might be soul shaking and earth shattering?<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Fear:</span></strong> a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid.<br /><br />Robert Frost wrote ‘Desert Places’ in 1936 and it ends saying:<br /></span><br /><blockquote><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">…<br />They cannot scare me with their empty spaces<br />Between stars –on stars where no human race is.<br />I have it in me so much nearer home<br />To scare myself with my own desert places.</span></blockquote><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Change:</span></strong> to become different<br /><br />In ‘The Black Cottage’ Robert Frost writes as a priest and says: </span><br /><blockquote><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...<br />For, dear me, why abandon a belief<br />Merely because it ceases to be true.<br />Cling to it long enough, and not a doubt<br />It will turn true again, for so<br />it goes.<br />Most of the change we think we see in life<br />Is due to truths<br />being in and out of favour.<br /></span></blockquote>-- Pretty Little Liarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08516519746383083962noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7971154984336620283.post-31183122470278031102009-05-09T04:00:00.001-06:002009-05-09T04:32:50.126-06:00In The Dark<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">In the dark there’s a creak and it’s closing in. In the dark, I can’t move, I can’t breathe, and the creak, it’s closing in, getting closer.<br /><br />Nothing…it stopped, the creak stopped. What does that mean? What was it?<br /><br />…the silence…”Make it come back!” I finally scream through the dark. My voice bounces off the walls of what must be an empty room and slowly it all fades back into silence…into the dark.<br /><br />I can’t take another moment, my body’s dying and my mind is starting to go numb. This darkness, this silence, it’s going to kill me. …and then the creak…it’s back, in the dark, right behind me. My mind begins racing again and this makes me feel more alive in the dark, all alone…at least I think. But then there’s the creak, right behind me. No longer getting closer but not moving away, just a slow steady creak. One after another; not a tap, but a creak, in the cold wooden floor that’s all around me.<br /><br />I slide my fingers slowly over the wood beneath and around my body, small soothing motions while I lay in the dark listening to the creak. As my body begins to relax I come to the realization that I should be fighting this. I don’t know where I am, who brought me here or why. And for a second I start to panic, my heart begins to race and a hundred torturous thoughts sprint through my head…but then the creak…it calms me. My pulse slows and all the thoughts of the things that could happen fade away.<br /><br />I allow the creak to wrap around me, making me feel at peace, at peace with being alone…in the dark. Eventually all thought fades away…everything just fades away…except the creak in the dark where I lie. </span>-- Pretty Little Liarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08516519746383083962noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7971154984336620283.post-13105458269768782852009-05-04T22:59:00.005-06:002009-05-04T23:03:42.676-06:00Heart-Attack's Prayer<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">How can I describe what it’s like to have your heart stop, for just an instant...to have it completely stop?<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Your breath catches and everything starts to blur. In that instant your mind races faster than you ever thought was possible. You see everything you wished you would have done and your ears ring with shouts of things you wish you would have said. And in your head you scream at the very top of your lungs for another chance because God you know you can make it better!<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">In those few moments when your heart stops you pray so steadily and so hard for another chance. You BEG and PLEAD for that chance. You can make it better, you will be better, you’ll do ANYTHING….<br /><br />…and then you gasp and your heart starts its steady thud thud again. It’s strange because the last few seconds seem like a fog and you can barely remember what happened or why it happened…but you know that something profound has occurred, or at least you think so. …but what was it? …were you supposed to do something now? Change something? After a moments thought you decide that nothing really did happen and that you must simply be very tired or stressed, over worked, under paid…and it doesn’t matter…life just goes on.<br /><br />Who knows though…unfortunately next time you might not be so lucky…</span>-- Pretty Little Liarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08516519746383083962noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7971154984336620283.post-20532943729533838622008-04-21T23:21:00.001-06:002008-04-22T00:30:29.235-06:00A Dream within a Dream<div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Edgar Allen Poe wrote in 1827 :</span> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Take this kiss upon the brow!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">And, in parting from you now,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Thus much let me avow - </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">You are not wrong, who deem</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">That my days have been a dream;</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Yet if Hope has flown away</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">In a night, or in a day,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">In a vision, or in none,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><em>All</em> that we see or seem</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Is but a dream within a dream.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">I stand amid the roar</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">Of a surf-tormented shore,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">And I hold within my hand</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">Grains of the golden sand -</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">How few! yet how they creep</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">Through my fingers to the deep,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">While I weep - while I weep!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">O God! can I not grasp</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">Them with a tighter clasp?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">O God! can I not save</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><em>One</em> from the pitiless wave?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">Is <em>all</em> that we see or seem</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">But a dream within a dream?</span></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Things come and go so quickly; life is like a dream. It tends to be the good things that go to quickly, like a good dream. While the things that we wish would just go away are like nightmares that come back to haunt you...Sometimes even haunting you in your wakeful hours...</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"></span></div>-- Pretty Little Liarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08516519746383083962noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7971154984336620283.post-10241598380149423862008-04-18T23:22:00.000-06:002008-04-22T00:21:09.427-06:00...the beginning...<span style="font-family:courier new;">Lets start by saying</span> <em>you don't know me.</em> <span style="font-family:courier new;">Through things I might say you might start to think you know me or have known me, but remember,</span> <em>you don't.</em> <span style="font-family:courier new;">You don't know where I've</span> <em>been</em>, <span style="font-family:courier new;">what I've</span> <em>seen</em>, <span style="font-family:courier new;">or what I</span> <em>feel.</em> <span style="font-family:courier new;">And just like me, you don't know where I'll go, what I'll see, or how I'll feel</span> <em>tomorrow</em>.<br /><br />I<span style="font-family:courier new;"> don't mean to sound so</span> <em>forboding</em> <span style="font-family:courier new;">but I don't want you, the reader, to think you can expect anything. I don't want you to think,</span> <em>not even for an instant</em>, <span style="font-family:courier new;">you know me and you know what today will bring.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">You might have wondered what a blog called '...Beautiful Lies...' was all about; now I'll give you the best answer I can...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Everytime you finish reading what I have written for you that day or week, I want you to stop and ask yourself,</span> <em>"is that true?"</em><span style="font-family:courier new;"> or</span><em> "did that happen?"</em> <span style="font-family:courier new;">I'm not saying I'm writing you a mystery novel through blogs. I assure you; some of what I write will be</span> <em>real</em>, <em>true</em>, <span style="font-family:courier new;">and </span><em>factua</em>l. <span style="font-family:courier new;">What I wont assure you of is, what.</span>-- Pretty Little Liarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08516519746383083962noreply@blogger.com0