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Home > Archive > Abuse recovery > December 2004 > Clarification (re: empathy and fears)
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Clarification (re: empathy and fears)
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| ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com 2004-12-16, 11:06 am |
| smiths wrote:
>so if you love someone you eat them?
Not exactly.
You incorporate the best about them into yourself, so that you can have
them with you permanently.
"If someone you love has been taken from you, the way to have them live
on is to never stop loving them" - James O'Barr
And here's one of mine:
======================
Mene, Tekel, Uparsin.
Mene: Numbered.
The number of my loves was few but each brought me to heaven.
A gentle spirit with a beautiful mind and an elegant body, now a yoga
teacher imparting her inner magnificence to world.
A sexy little creature, exciting, misanthropic and brimming with
insight.
A tortured soul with dozens of faces and personalities, introspective
and poetic and now dead at 25.
And two luminous spirits, hearts full of light and creative passion,
producing beautiful artwork and enriching the lives around them with
their resplendor.
Tekel: Weighed.
My heart has been weighed and found heavy with memories.
When Michelle and I ran at 5 in the morning through the woods to the
riverside, and I held her topless on a rock outcropping as we watched
the sun rise.
When Layo sang "can't bring me down" and danced up and down and I
kissed her all over her face.
When Michele undressed on the side of the lake and I penetrated her,
and her skin had marks of pine needles when she stood up.
When Lisbeth missed her meetings at work so that we could climb trees
and jump over streams and play with the clouds.
When Julia swam behind me and let me lean back into her and said "Let
me be your ocean" and I asked if I could marry her and she said
"Maybe," then swam away and came back and said, "I mean yes."
Uparsin: Divided.
I am divided among my loves and have given all of them pieces of
mewhile retaining inside me their residue.
It is said that people keep objects of their loved ones to keep a
memory of them alive.
I keep pieces of my loves - they live in me and I live in them, an
interlocking hyperdimensional union that resembles the Holy Trinity and
interconnectivity of Buddha and the Universe.
And I in them, them in me, create a unity that is divided so that it
can be reuinited; weighed so that it be rendered weightless; and
numbered so that through it infinity can be achieved.
| |
| thanatos@coldmail.nu 2004-12-16, 7:06 pm |
| ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com wrote:
> I keep pieces of my loves - they live in me and I live in them, an
> interlocking hyperdimensional union that resembles the Holy Trinity
and
> interconnectivity of Buddha and the Universe.
You really ought to get some help, Ilya.
| |
| lovetap 2004-12-16, 7:06 pm |
| i think jeffrey dahmer kept pieces of his loves too, didn't he?
you're one crazy XXXX, ilya. merry whatevercrazyXXXXscelebrate and
happy new year.
| |
| ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com 2004-12-17, 11:06 am |
|
lovetap wrote:
> i think jeffrey dahmer kept pieces of his loves too, didn't he?
It is a feature of alcoholic and drug-addicted mind to be unable to see
metaphors and take everything literally.
> you're one crazy XXXX, ilya. merry whatevercrazyXXXXscelebrate and
> happy new year.
"The men who want to find out what a woman is like inside are the ones
who woo chicks with the line 'I want to see what your insides look
like.'"
| |
| lovetap 2004-12-17, 7:07 pm |
|
ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com wrote:
> lovetap wrote:
>
> It is a feature of alcoholic and drug-addicted mind to be unable to
see
> metaphors and take everything literally.
yeah, blah blah blah. it's a feature of a whimpering pussy to be unable
to take a little sarcasm.
has it ever occurred to you that there are people here who are
extremely well versed in the art of metaphor and simply can't stand to
see you employ it so poorly?
| |
| ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com 2004-12-17, 7:07 pm |
|
lovetap wrote:
> ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com wrote:
> see
>
> yeah, blah blah blah. it's a feature of a whimpering pussy to be
unable
> to take a little sarcasm.
>
> has it ever occurred to you that there are people here who are
> extremely well versed in the art of metaphor and simply can't stand
to
> see you employ it so poorly?
Show me your art of metaphor, monkey-boy.
| |
| lovetap 2004-12-17, 7:07 pm |
| "Ilya Shambat, sputtering like the tired, red orifice of Verbal
DiarrheaVille."
how's that? ;)
| |
| ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com 2004-12-17, 7:07 pm |
|
lovetap wrote:
> "Ilya Shambat, sputtering like the tired, red orifice of Verbal
> DiarrheaVille."
>
> how's that? ;)
Into the heart of darkness,
Viciousness and despair -
Into the very Tartarus -
Enters the prince of Air.
Ceiling is bleak and starless.
Nobody knows your name.
Inside the heart of darkness
Flickers an open flame.
Everywhere, creeps and scoundrels
Feeding upon the souls.
Under the heart of darkness,
Broken glass and coals.
Think that I might take flight, less
I also burn to death.
But through the heart of darkness
I must create a path.
Something ignites and startles
Amid the sulfur fumes.
Inside the heart of darkness
Torment of souls resumes.
Demons and fiends and gargoyles
Crowd me on every side
As through the heart of darkness
I take a tourist ride.
Skin catches fire and sparkles
And from it pours hot blood.
Within heart of darkness,
Boiling and ruddy flood.
"Have you lost all your marbles?"
"If I did, would I care?"
Inside the heart of darkness
I can't tell here from there.
Place is unmapped and chartless.
All roads lead to Rome -
That is, to heart of darkness -
And from it rises foam.
Nothing is seen apart; yes,
Mirrors on every wall
Reflect the heart of darkness
At everyone and all.
Evil has many partners
And many a disguise.
Look in the heart of darkness
And train your ears and eyes.
You cannot tell apart us,
Me and the souls on fire.
It burns, the heart of darkness,
Outside, inside, and higher.
Where do I stand or start? Yes,
Write with a piece of chalk
Map of the heart of darkness
Upon a lotus stalk -
Lotus that, like most marvels,
Grows in the thickest mud
And through the heart of darkness
Reaches to heart of God -
There will be no more markers
Upon my path, as I
Burn through the heart of darkness
Into the open sky.
Ilya Shambat.
| |
| lovetap 2004-12-17, 7:07 pm |
| and then what? 
| |
| ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com 2004-12-17, 7:07 pm |
|
lovetap wrote:
> and then what?
Then?
Spread the love, dude, spread the love.
| |
| lovetap 2004-12-17, 7:07 pm |
| what you are spreading isn't love, ilya.
in fact, if that is what you call love, i think many people would
rather you spread an STD.
| |
| ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com 2004-12-17, 7:07 pm |
|
lovetap wrote:
> what you are spreading isn't love, ilya.
>
> in fact, if that is what you call love, i think many people would
> rather you spread an STD.
Really.
I'll find my love in the ocean
Mermaid-like, she will call
Her tenderness and devotion
Nurturing one and all
Over the crashing billows
Ether-like, she will roam
Reclining as if on pillows
On incandescent foam
On the backs of playing dolphins
In the call of the whales
Raising the sunfish orphans
Petting sharks on the scales
Constructing on the corals
Palaces and enclaves
Settling the fights and quarrels
Under and over the waves -
I'll find my love in the mountains
Peaks of the Tian Shan
Her magnificent countenance
Like glaciers reflecting the sun
Basking in wind and sunlight
Clearing the air of dust
>From sunrise and until twilight
Making the beauty last
I'll find my love in the tundra
Under the permafrost
Where would she be, I'll wonder
As I am wandering lost
Petting the polar bears
Giving them her sweet light
Lost to all worldly cares
Bringing the Earth delight
I'll find my love in the Congo
In heart of the Abyss
Seeing the fear and wrong and
Turning it into bliss
I'll find my love in the cloud
Splashing in endless blue
Vanquishing every doubt
Making the dreams come true
I'll find my love in the thunder
Rumbling through autumn air
Turning the mind from blunder
And spirit from despair
I'll find my love in the cosmos -
Heart of the Milky Way -
Playing with laws and causes
Turning the night to day
I'll find my love everywhere
And before I die
I'll send her name as a prayer
Into the clear blue sky.
| |
| The Entire Population of Liechtenstein 2004-12-17, 7:07 pm |
|
ilya_shambat2...@yahoo.com wrote:
> Basking in wind and sunlight
> Clearing the air of dust
> Making the beauty last
I just did a search on "Wilhelmina Stitch" and came up with a couple of
links, but they're barely more than tasters. Figured you'd like.
http://www.geocities.com/Paris/5810/poem2.html
http://www.newtestamentclass.com/poems/poem_09.html
I wish I hadn't thrown those old books of hers away when I was a
teenager. Might've been worth something now on ebay.
"Watch the gruesome shadows lift, chased away by Laughter's cheer." Now
if that ain't art...
| |
| lovetap 2004-12-17, 7:07 pm |
| really, truly.
| |
| lovetap 2004-12-20, 7:07 pm |
|
ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com wrote:
> lovetap wrote:
>
> It is a feature of alcoholic and drug-addicted mind to be unable to
see
> metaphors and take everything literally.
yeah, blah blah blah. it's a feature of a whimpering pussy to be unable
to take a little sarcasm.
has it ever occurred to you that there are people here who are
extremely well versed in the art of metaphor and simply can't stand to
see you employ it so poorly?
| |
| ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com 2004-12-20, 7:07 pm |
|
lovetap wrote:
> ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com wrote:
> see
>
> yeah, blah blah blah. it's a feature of a whimpering pussy to be
unable
> to take a little sarcasm.
>
> has it ever occurred to you that there are people here who are
> extremely well versed in the art of metaphor and simply can't stand
to
> see you employ it so poorly?
Show me your art of metaphor, monkey-boy.
| |
| lovetap 2004-12-20, 7:07 pm |
| "Ilya Shambat, sputtering like the tired, red orifice of Verbal
DiarrheaVille."
how's that? ;)
| |
| ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com 2004-12-20, 7:07 pm |
|
lovetap wrote:
> "Ilya Shambat, sputtering like the tired, red orifice of Verbal
> DiarrheaVille."
>
> how's that? ;)
Into the heart of darkness,
Viciousness and despair -
Into the very Tartarus -
Enters the prince of Air.
Ceiling is bleak and starless.
Nobody knows your name.
Inside the heart of darkness
Flickers an open flame.
Everywhere, creeps and scoundrels
Feeding upon the souls.
Under the heart of darkness,
Broken glass and coals.
Think that I might take flight, less
I also burn to death.
But through the heart of darkness
I must create a path.
Something ignites and startles
Amid the sulfur fumes.
Inside the heart of darkness
Torment of souls resumes.
Demons and fiends and gargoyles
Crowd me on every side
As through the heart of darkness
I take a tourist ride.
Skin catches fire and sparkles
And from it pours hot blood.
Within heart of darkness,
Boiling and ruddy flood.
"Have you lost all your marbles?"
"If I did, would I care?"
Inside the heart of darkness
I can't tell here from there.
Place is unmapped and chartless.
All roads lead to Rome -
That is, to heart of darkness -
And from it rises foam.
Nothing is seen apart; yes,
Mirrors on every wall
Reflect the heart of darkness
At everyone and all.
Evil has many partners
And many a disguise.
Look in the heart of darkness
And train your ears and eyes.
You cannot tell apart us,
Me and the souls on fire.
It burns, the heart of darkness,
Outside, inside, and higher.
Where do I stand or start? Yes,
Write with a piece of chalk
Map of the heart of darkness
Upon a lotus stalk -
Lotus that, like most marvels,
Grows in the thickest mud
And through the heart of darkness
Reaches to heart of God -
There will be no more markers
Upon my path, as I
Burn through the heart of darkness
Into the open sky.
Ilya Shambat.
| |
| ilya_shambat2004@yahoo.com 2004-12-20, 7:07 pm |
|
lovetap wrote:
> and then what?
Then?
Spread the love, dude, spread the love.
| |
| lovetap 2004-12-20, 7:07 pm |
| and then what?
| |
| The Entire Population of Liechtenstein 2004-12-20, 7:07 pm |
|
ilya_shambat2...@yahoo.com wrote:
> Basking in wind and sunlight
> Clearing the air of dust
> Making the beauty last
I just did a search on "Wilhelmina Stitch" and came up with a couple of
links, but they're barely more than tasters. Figured you'd like.
http://www.geocities.com/Paris/5810/poem2.html
http://www.newtestamentclass.com/poems/poem_09.html
I wish I hadn't thrown those old books of hers away when I was a
teenager. Might've been worth something now on ebay.
"Watch the gruesome shadows lift, chased away by Laughter's cheer." Now
if that ain't art...
| |
| lovetap 2004-12-20, 7:07 pm |
| really, truly.
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