Honest Words

What if we are born onto this earth
As fractured souls
In order to search for the components
That would make us whole?
Perhaps we are not meant to
Judge ourselves and each other
By the things we exclude
And do not do
But by what we embrace
And choose to include.
Do we each not deserve the chance
To live, to love, to desire
For with all our hearts
The keys that will unlock the hiding place
Of our missing parts
What if the greatest gift our creator gave us
Was imperfection?
The ability to pick and choose who we are
How we think
What we feel
Why do we choose instead to pick away
At cryptic messages and hypotheticals
For a truth that we can call our faith?
We all take sides saying everyone else is wrong
But they too are singing the same song
When all our lives give in to the light
Tell me, which ones will be right?

Writer's Resolve

I cannot say for certain
That I will be a success
I do not know if my decision
Really is the best
I'm not quite sure my talent
Will take me where I want to go
Especially when I'm told it isn't enough
It's all about who you know
Sometimes I feel like I'm on a fool's errand
Choosing to waste my time away
At times I feel I'm just being stubborn
Rebelling against the shit they all say
There are days when my self-esteem
Has the consistency of glass
And though it's partly because I fear the future
I'm also haunted by my past

But then I tell myself to stop.

My greatest talent is my insight
Into what most choose not to see
To shackled minds and doubt-ridden souls
I alone have the key
I can ignite a powderkeg of emotion
With my subtly biting words
And I will continue to create new works
Until my voice is felt and heard
But even then I will only improve
And only when I breathe my last breath
Will I, Jali, the writer
Give in to a quiet death
But I promise you, what I leave behind
Will continue to blaze a trail
That will scream it isn't wrong to be different
And that it isn't a crime to fail

The Tenacity!!!!!

http://encyclopediadramatica.com/Wimmins

I have to say that the article you will be taken to by the link above has to be the funniest thing i ever read. Not because of the content, which I find outrageous to the umpth degree, but the fact that someone, somewhere had the time (no matter how serious they may have been) to create this. Those of you with poor senses of humor, or heightened senses of oversensitivity, remember this: they're only talking about you if think they are.

This 'Soldier of Love' is LONG overdue!

I never, ever thought this day would finally come. So I'm on Myspace checking out music when I just happen to scroll down the page.......and lo and behold, discover, Sade is coming out with a new album on February 8th! Entitled "Soldier of Love", this album will surely be full of gems that can contend with the likes of "Jezebel", "Your Love Is King", and "Smooth Operator". Don't know who Sade is? Shame on you. Look her up, and have a listen.

Now, there's been alot of negativity surrounding Megan Fox. Mostly she has the worst case of diarrhea in a mouth that has been seen in a long time. HOWEVER. It's quite easy to deal with girls that talk like that and look like THIS. Deep conversation, not their forte. Everything else? Fair game.

Kool Art: Viva La Sarcasm #1

Now I don't know about you, but I love sarcasm. It's blunt, offensive, and will easily go over most people's heads. The only thing I love more than sarcasm, is sarcasm on a T-shirt. Hence the above image.

Awakened

She drifted
Along a stone pathway
Shrouded in a fog
Hearing whispers of the world around her
But not listening
Inhaling the cold, empty air
But not breathing
She just floated along
Blank stare and slack mouth
Heading towards nowhere
While existing in everywhere
I asked my mother if she could understand me
She just nodded
I told her that I loved her
Her lips curled up
But not into a smile
Merely a motion remembered from happy times
When life was her own and not sealed in the box
Of the man who once held her heart
She had told him she was done three months before
And still he refused to walk out the door
So she half-existed; a forced possession
Trapped in the hole of her chronic depression...

Now, I couldn't tell you the cause of what happened next
But her eyes suddenly focused.
The fog was no longer present in her eyes
And the blood in her veins seemed to come to life
More than that, she smiled
Not a motion recalled from happier times
But a smile that was genuine and alive.
And she spoke in the most beautiful sound in my world,
"I'm tired of being a prisoner. And I want to be free."