"If you're looking for the truth stop looking. You won't find it here. You will only find what really happened"
Usually, I’m the one behind the microphone. Today, I’ll be recording some other voices.
Therefore, I put on my motivational hoodie.
My people skills and my social competence always have been my best traits.
“You are like him”, she said, “You always remind me of him”.
And after she was gone there still was him.
Far in the distance, but nevertheless there.
Existent. At least I thought so.
Until today.
Now there’s only the rain.
Far in the distance.
And me.
Five roses bought for Valentines
And one of them’s for you.
Five roses given to my loves
The love, though, was not true.
Five oaths I swore that very day
They all were works of art.
Five oaths with sugar-coated smiles
Not one was from the heart.
Five kisses on five mouths I gave
And one of them was thine.
Five kisses - four of them were bland
The fifth, though, was divine.
Five roses bought for Valentines.
Five oaths I swore that day.
Five kisses given on five mouths.
All five I did betray.
- Numbers
“No”, you say?
I don’t believe you.
Don’t get mad!
I don’t say that you’re a liar.
“Lying” means to know one thing
but then say the other.
I know that you, indeed,
Have meet him.
More than once.
Because he was there.
And he will be there.
At each and every
Of the crossroads
Of your life.
It is where he is.
It is where he stands.
It is where he waits.
And this is all he does:
Offering choices.
No matter if you believe me or not,
The only honest answer to my question
Would have been:
You made your choice, though.
And when I say “we”, I mean you, dear reader and me. In this deal, it is about the meaning of the writings (and the other content) on this blog.
Only about the content I made myself, of course. Not the content that I - for example - reblogged or will reblog in the future. Because that content is not mine. I would never dare to carve deals with you concerning other people’s content.
Oh… In case this all sounds familiar, you might have read a vaguely similar text on my side-blog. It is indeed only vaguely similar. Because my side-blog is about “other people”. And also, it is in German. This blog is about me. And it is in English. Big difference.
Let’s talk about the deal, though: As mentioned, the deal concerns the meaning of all my own writings and all my own other content that put on this blog.
By reading/watching/listening/looking at it you need to be aware that nothing of it is the truth. That is the deal. Everything you will find here is nothing more (and also nothing less) than simply an accurate, meticulously constructed account of what really happened.
And we all know - you know this and I know this - the truth, and what really happened are sometimes largely different aspects of life. The truth is bigger than reality. Because reality can be subjective. Or can be perceived subjectively. Because we create it ourselves.
While the truth - on the other hand - exists outside of it all.
With this clarification made: I report back from my social-media break, I hope you all are well! I want to bid you welcome to my little space on the interwebs, remind you that you are a wonderful person. That you are loved. That you are special. And also that we all - together - can make 2022 (and the years to follow) to something special.
Because that is what we owe to ourselves.
No matter of the real reality
I noticed with quite a bit of shock that my long-time Tumblr-friend, the Master of the Macabre, Ambrose Harte is missing on my list of “Sunday Poems”.
I had to change that. Immediately. So, I read one of my favourite of Ambrose’s poems, the wonderfully dark and eerie “The Soul Collector". And this poem certainly won’t be the last one I’ll read.
All my “Sunday Poems” found on my YouTube channel in this playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLzwdqN_pqJncmI52cpbyoHYhE_1jZ1QFp
find Ambrose’s blogs here: @ambroseharte @scatteredthoughts2 and - in case you don’t already do - give him a follow (or two) while you’re at it. His poetry is amazing
Thank you, Ambrose for your “carte blanche” :)
Trying to drown my thoughts with music
Blasting loudly from the speakers
Can't find my way through the whispers
United voices emerge from the silent void
Ancient forest spirits sing of a tale as old as time
Read these poems if you haven't read them already! It's incredible what you wrote using my verses! Thank you all so much. I just love to see that I can inspire others and their writing inspires me. Maybe I should share my unfinished verses more often here so you can hijack them. What do you think?
Thank you for this callenge, @lexiklecksi!
I loved the other poems, too!
“You know what they say, don’t you? ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions’. But it doesn’t mean what they tell you”, he said, “It’s not about the good things they planned on doing but didn’t.
It is exactly about what they actually did.”
“I don’t understand”, I answered.
“Of course, you don’t!”, he replied and raised his glass to his lips, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and every paving block was carefully and meticulously put there, piece by piece by all those ‘good people’.
It is a long and winding road. A road of bones, and tears, and blood, and screams of terror and pain. And the smell of burning flesh.
A road of misery, my friend, built by those who ‘just mean well’, and who never managed to wash the blood off their hands, no matter how hard they tried. No matter how much time and effort they put into distraction and denial”
He leaned back, and a sinister gleam, flashed up in his eyes.
“All the misery on this godforsaken planet was brought to this world by people who "just meant well”, who believed… no! Who “KNEW” they are the good ones. The righteous ones. And who “KNEW” all the others are not.
We all will have to pay a price. That’s for sure”
“Every morning
when I look into the mirror
I look at myself
and I say:
You are beautiful!
And I am.
In the mornings.
Before people start to annoy me.
We all need self-love!”
… she said. And it made me laugh.
It was so honest
and genuine
and true.
You all know THAT person, don't you?
And I don't mean the guy in the picture, I mean the person the guy in the picture is talking about.
The "Sunday Poem"... Today with a poem about your co-worker. And also my co-worker. Basically, everyone's co-worker:
"The Disagreeable Man" by W. S. Gilbert
All the Sunday poems here (click the word "here")
Oh, and here’s my last “Sunday poem”
There will (probably) be some changes on my YouTube channel. I will - of course - continue reading books. I am not so sure whether there will be two books at the same time. Since there were more and more questions about short-stories, I might (MIGHT!!!) stick to one book (a chapter every other day) and do one short-story reading per week… at least this is something that had been going through my mind. I also had some suggestions regarding German texts… Yes, there will be some, sooner or later. Probably sooner ;) But also probably on a different channel. I don’t like to mix things
