Symptoms of Cretinism

I didn't write this, someone else did. ============ From thebestpageintheuniverse.net - "MORE lies girls have told me." "All I want is a nice guy that will make me feel special, that will listen to me and love me forever..." Lie. She left off the part about "and a guy that will have plenty of raunchy sex with me because that's all most girls are really looking for, but we're too shallow to admit that to you because we want to keep this 'virgin-girl' image we have going on and we don't want to sound too slutty, so we're going to pretend that all the nice guys we've met so far haven't fit the bill when in reality, they've treated us infinitely better than any guy we could ever hope to meet at a club downtown." I've said this before and I'll say it again: GIRLS DON'T WANT NICE GUYS. END OF STORY. I know there are SOME out there that do... the ratio of honest girls that want nice guys to sleazy girls that a...

Mind Trick Jamie Cullum I missed the opportunity to get you babe to stay with me. Never thought, I'd regret the excuses that I've made like a song, it will fade If there's music in the night, And it's really, really right, It's the only thing I need. it intoxicates your mind All your troubles left behind So come on and take my lead. it's not just me who feels it music plays a mind trick watch me forget about missing you So I put my feelings out to dry love, one day again, I'll have to try. falling out, making up it seems such a silly game why do I never gain? If there's music in the night, And it's really, really right, It's the only thing I need. it intoxicates your mind All your troubles left behind So come on and take my lead. it's not just me who feels it music plays a mind trick watch me forget about missing you If there's music in the night, And it's really, really right, It's the only thing I need. it intoxicates your mind ...

There is a quality to the silence of night. It is something I cannot directly point a finger on, for some reason. Suffice to say that it is a deep and profound stillness, a restful and peaceful quiet. Not like being dead, although since I am, obviously, not deceased at the moment, I cannot say for sure. But what is death but death, and end to a finite existence, a period to a sentence? Death simply is what it is, and nothing more. In contrast, there is an immeasurable feeling to the hours after dark. I find myself swallowed up by it; it is more than it is, largely undefined and seemingly endless. It is so different from the day -- the night -- not so much in terms of the presence of the sun in the sky, not to mention the sweltering and unmerciful heat that beats down on everyone after dawn, or in the volume of people awake and about their businesses, but in the way it is less complicated, simple, and yet utterly unfathomable. It is past midnight, and it is good to be away from the dist...

Today is a day for sad songs and despair. Today I revel in my absolute cheesiness and melancholy, because I am, deep inside the hard shell I build around me, a soft and sensitive creature. You poke me and I die. Today is a day of rejections, remembered and realized; of abandonment, past and foreseen. Today I remember all my broken hearts – I always make a new one out of the left-over pieces, and it’s never the same. I remember words said and deeds done, I remember the choices made. It’s always the remembering that’s hard. Funny how I run out of words now - it’s probably because this isn’t the first time I’ve said these kinds of things. But I never knew too many words in the first place. Maybe it would have been easier if I had the gift of gab or if I were blessed with the ability to make grandiose soliloquies and literary expositions, but my ignorance roots me to the dead soil I stand in, so much remains unsaid, undefined. They claw and clamor and groan for release, these things that c...

Michael Caine: What did you do on your birthday? Clive Owen: Nothing. Michael Caine: Aw, come on, you must have done something. Clive Owen: Nothing, seriously. It was just another day. Woke up, felt like shit, went to work, felt like shit. - Children of Men Or something to that effect. ========= What’s in a birthday? Of course, the terribly cliché answer that’s sure to come out of nearly everyone’s mouth would be that birthdays tell you that you got another year, and that you should be thankful. Okay, I agree, to a certain degree. But in this world where more than 50% of drivers on the streets either suffer from “I am god, move aside” or “This is the Fast and the Furious in real life” syndrome – which is bound to get you in some sort of traffic accident that involves your mode of transportation, your bodily self, or both, sooner or later; where you can get stabbed at any time because you have a cellphone just like everybody else, but / and / or the stabber is high and you are the sorry...