Lianna,
For reasons beyond me, I can only remember you with the rising sun of the summer solstice and with the certainty of the cold winter, I could only remain silent. Warmth as it is has gone now, only to find that I could never live without it. Certain as the waves of bright light running with the ocean, with the silent rush of wind that can almost take you away with the heavens under your feet, so it is that your voice haunts my every waking moment and if only I could bash it off my head, I would be all the more at peace; alone, true, but at peace.
The red shades upon the summer sunset could only drive me mad; the touch of your lips, I can still feel, with your warmth against my heart. I could never let you go. With the sun?s descent, I can only stare at the distance, waiting for the moment when the sky would finally fall to darkness. The nights glimmer could never compare to your smile that I could never erase in my mind, though I always wished that I could just hurt myself enough to forget it. With the fullness of the blue moon, I could never let you go.
With the waning moments of the day, and upon the strike of midnight, I know I will never be strong enough to bear the pain. Why would you love me when you are betrothed to another? I only knew this as your duty, and mine to stay away.
I?m sorry.
I will not be at your wedding.
I am a coward for not seeing you on the final day I could touch your lips, but I will not. If I could never have you, I will not settle for anything less. A loaded sidearm upon my table, but I have no strength to take it, to bring it to my head.
I love you too much.
To take my own life would be selfish and so I will live with the endless envy all the days of my life. I will grow bitter, that is the ends of the course I will take, and everyone else will know me as an irritant to their lives, but they will never know the reason.
I read once that an action must be done out of duty in order to have any moral worth and that even if it is done for mere happiness, it is a selfish task. That the man with nothing else to live for, with the sorrow weighing down in his heart and still he pushes himself to live is the man rightful to live. This pitiful existence will drive me mad, but my soul will never rest if the last thing I did was to hurt you.
I will find my final pleasure at the end of a lit cigar and at the bottom of a shot glass.
Malakai
A Letter that Never Found Its Way
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A Letter that Never Found Its Way
A man is not a man until he has accessed his raw untamed energy and takes pleasure to his capacity to fight and defend himself. Only then can he transform his blind rage into power to commit himself, to handle tensions and to make difficult decisions. Inner security also develops. It is based on his realization that whatever goes wrong, he can get help from his inner resources, from the basic energy of his aggression.
http://whatdowomenwant.blogs.friendster.com/madness/
http://whatdowomenwant.blogs.friendster.com/madness/
