Vermilion

It's rare that I'll ever post a song. There's only a few songs that ever could explain how i feel about anything. This is one of them, one of the few...

She seemed dressed in all of me, stretched across my shame.

All the torment and the pain

Leaked through and covered me

I'd do anything to have her to myself

Just to have her for myself

Now I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do when she makes me sane.

...

She is everything to me

The unrequited dream

A song that no one sings

The unattainable, She's a myth that I have to believe in

All I need to make it real is one more reason

I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do when she makes me sad.

...

But I won't let this build up inside of me

I won't let this build up inside of me

I won't let this build up inside of me

I won't let this build up inside of me

...

A catch in my throat choke

Torn into pieces

I won't, no!

I don't wanna be this...

...

But I won't let this build up inside of me

I won't let this build up inside of me

I won't let this build up inside of me

I won't let this build up inside of me

...

She isn't real

I can't make her real

She isn't real

I can't make her real

Working Once More

I love how I have the most time to post while I'm at work. It's not like I'm a time waster or anything but I find the most spare time in which I could be doing nothing else at my dear workspace here at the college.

There's no messages to return, no photocopying to do, there's a bit of reading I could brush up on but I can leave that for any old day...

I'm glad I'm being paid to send words into the void of cyberspace...

- Chow

I'm just so tired

University blues for sure...

There's a lot to do and only just enough time to get it all done. i wish i had just a little time between assignments and essays . I'd like to have a few straight days to feel like a regular human being for a while. The Christmas break will have at least two essays and assignments so i should be able to get some sleep then. Until that point I suppose I'll be a very tired individual.

Andre...

He came so highly recomended...

Insomniacs anonymous here I come. I no long rise early, I rise late and sleep early.

... I shine yearly.


- Andre

Coffee

I've been reading, It's one of those things that i do sometimes.

I read an essay in a book of mine called "A Turkish Discourse on Coffee."

Back in the day, about 1529 a.d. there were Coffee bars in Istanbul. Laws were decreed against it, people were executed for drinking it. Most of the places that served it were places of refuge for rebels, free thinkers, and scoundrels. The more laws that the Turkish Sultans pitted against its use the more and more popular it became. Drinking coffee was an act of rebellion.
The drink was attributed to the rise of murders in the city, from slaves to nobles. It was declared that it was the drink of drug addicts, who found it a life giving thing, and they were willing to die for a cup.

Perspective

"And what will you be having tonight sir?" the rotund waiter asked politely in an unmistakably french accent.

The critic stared into the eyes of the Waiter, cold, black pools of merciless ink, deep like how one thinks of canyons. "Perspective," replied the critic in a voice not hiding the guile it possessed. "I would like some perspective."

Work, Work, Work

Woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head...
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup, and looking up, I noticed I was late...
Got my coat and grabbed my hat, made the class in seconds flat...
Sat down in the lounge, had a smoke, then somebody spoke and I went into a dream...

A day in the life...

A word for the devil

Scowl at all those who do not believe in the devil, because in that knowledge, the devil will smile.

It is not your option to, or to not, believe in him. It is irrelevant what you believe of him, for he believes in you.

Companions

A woman lost her only son and this caused her great pain and she carried the body of her son around the village looking for someone who had a potion to bring him back to life. Someone told her that Buddha has such a potion. She found Buddha at his retreat and asked him if he had such a potion. He said that yes he does. She asked if there was any herbs she could collect to aid in it's making. Buddha said that he needed some mustard seeds. She said she would collect some mustard seeds. As she was leaving Buddha said the seeds need to come from a household that has never known death. The woman said she would find these seeds. Every home she visited had the seeds to give her, but every home had experienced death at one time. In one a mother, in another a daughter, in another a servant, and in another a husband. Finally the woman realized that no one goes through life without experiencing the pain of death. At this time she let them take the body of her son and bury him. She returned to Buddha to thank him for reminding her of this simple fact. Buddha said the realization that everyone experiences the pain of death did not ease the pain of her loss, it eased the suffering of her holding on.

- Buddhist Parable

Post for the Day

Give me a sec......................

I'm having a burito...........................

Well, technically it's a wrap..............................

.................. A turkey wrap....................

............................. with lettuce

........... and tomato

... it's pretty good

Chimera

chi·me·ra also chi·mae·ra (kī-mîr'ə, kĭ-) n.

1. An organism, organ, or part consisting of two or more tissues of different genetic composition, produced as a result of organ transplant, grafting, or genetic engineering.
   
2. A substance, such as an antibody, created from the proteins or genes or two different species.
   
3. An individual who has received a transplant of genetically and immunologically different tissue.
   
4. A fanciful mental illusion or fabrication.

• [Middle English chimere, Chimera, from Old French, from Latin chimaera, from Greek khimaira, chimera, she-goat.]