Welcome one and all.
To those who have spent time at my last blog, and to those snoops that have wanted to see what I’m saying about them behind their back.
HI! *big wave*
Isn't sarcasm a bitch?
Just LIKE ME!
No no no...
This is nothing but truth, the name is Pura (Pure)
Let me just give you a quick run down on who I am,
For starters my former blog (to confirm to those who think they know who this is) is *REMOVED*.tblog.com
I had two best friends, two big reasons to grow and be brilliant, one of them no longer wants to speak to me or be associated with me at all… I love him, I respect that he doesn’t want to know me; if that makes him satisfied I will no longer be known to him.
I have lied to him, about my other best friend, who I will speak of (no doubt) in no less then a paragraphs time.
I love him enough to understand he is meant for differing realms to me, this is not my dilemma.
Am in love, quite frankly I am head over heels for a girl in *GRRRR* Grove, she’s an ex girlfriend, from 2-3 months ago. She was my other best friend (I keep forgetting I must speak in past tense).
Who as of now thinks... not, highly of me, for I lied to her.
Not in such a sense as to tell her the opposite of the truth but not to tell her the whole truth.
My past as of now is her present and she asks for help from me, to get over me.
And… In order to stop her hurting I must be cruel and be hated to save who I love from more tear drenched shirts, self-destructive ‘hook-ups’ and knives.
In other words, To help the one I love I must die a little to set her free.
I’ve got two words for it, True Love.
I am not pulling out the Heroic card, no, I’m not going for the sympathy dollar.
This is the truth; it’s the fate I have been handed…
Or rather, it seems as though I have been beaten with the silver platter then had it sat on my chest while the being more powerful then man stands on my chest and drops this fate on to the platter… from a great height.
But I realise this is just what I deserve and in all honesty, I am not feeling as much as I should towards it.
I feel as though I am partially numb, little needles pulling tears from my eyes. Pins made of guilt, shame, self-pity, longing, and loneliness.
I should stop feeling ashamed, for this is my past, but I am not ashamed of my wrong doings, but of how it has affected what I am now and what it has done to two of the most beautiful people I know.
They will hurt me. Maybe I’m crying because I’m fearing.
They say they don’t believe in revenge but I know everyone does, consciously or not everyone is going to take revenge on those that have hurt them.
It may not be their intention to hurt me, but they will, one or both of them will hurt me and then I will know they don’t care. But in more words.
“This shouldn’t be affecting you so much, it’s really not that big of a thing, get over it”
A quote from the past.
It’s my choice to use this quote, but when the numbers of both teams aren’t equal I can’t win.
I will rise.
I will rise up.
And over this.
You can hurt me, hit me as you please, for you believe I deserve it, But I know something you don’t anymore.
I can become more then this petty argument this reflection of my past may be moving me like a skeleton to you but I can only see it holding a puppet you created. I’m standing away to the right, watching you sitting on the ground laughing and pulling the strings of the past to make this dummy dance but I am safe from your subconscious revenge.
I don’t need to stoop to your level, I don’t need to feel sorry for either of you and I don’t need to be the lost little kid you seem to think I am.
I am a dark person.
I find little inconveniences hilarious.
Like somebody’s milk leaking through their bag.
It’s just how I enjoy.
All of that aside, I am still crying, weeping for loss, confusion and change.
I love both of you, So much.
I hope in time you can forgive my past for, as I have managed to do myself, you have the capacity to do so, Prove to me, and more so yourself, wether you are good or bad people.
I’ll be waiting, standing still, waiting for the dust to settle.
“And everything seemed to be going so well.” – Dwight (Sin City)
You’ve saved me on countless occasions.
You still saved and you suffered.
You, Suffered in silence to help me.
But, I can’t bow to you, I love you, but you yourself said I can no longer lick the sweetness, I came to.
I miss your mouth,
I miss your lips,
I miss the 5AM nights,
I miss the good times and the bad times,
I miss our closeness,
I’m missing a part of me,
You took it, I didn’t remove it,
Now it’s gone and I am left sitting, wallowing in my fading, heavy heart.
While you sit, hands on the wheel, able to turn in every direction,
Into the fourth dimension and back into the second.
Eyes wide, scared, terrified that I may be chasing after you asking for my pieces back and in turn a part of you.
I can’t chase, I’m crippled, but you know I will always long for you,
This isn’t something that heals, that a few stiches or a transplant can repair.
I’m allergic to any painkiller you bring to me.
I will sit and strain and wince at the obvious pain, while,
You lay in your mind un-noticing of what I feel as well.
We are Tragic.
We are Romantic.
We are in Love.
We are locked together til the walls crumble.
And then what?
Do we shake hands call truce then walk in different directions.
Will we ever see the love we still have but can’t embrace?
Will you be in my heart forever, like futures?
Must I be the martyr for this disastrous display of passion?
Maybe this is our eulogy…
I wish I didn’t have to say it was, while we lie on our deathbed.
Who’s going to read it?
Who will come to the funeral?
Where will we be buried?
Is it really terminal?
Do we have to die…?
Why am I still feeling that although I need to move away from this group, I am guilty, I am immature and I am not strong?
I’m just running.
This isn’t how it should happen, but who am I to judge fate.
I am just another silly little monkey questioning humanity of humans.
What is humanity?
If humanity’s meaning is charity but also people. Doesn’t that make it an oxymoron of its own definition?
We are not a kind race, we live through other people, no one is special everyone is someone else’s bitch.
But I know people that aren’t like that, but only because they are a result of being used.
And being all used up.
I’m the newest recruit.
What I find so hard about this is to stay strong,
Words can hit hard when you’re young and emotional.
But fuck knows I won’t let myself be so easily controlled.
I used to think it was mentally, but it’s emotional to.
I am stronger then manipulation,
I won’t say sorry to make people feel better,
I won’t weep for someone who feels bad,
I won’t yell because someone wants me to.
I will say sorry to better myself,
I will cry for an emotion of my own.
I will yell to get through to someone.
I’m building an air-conditioned unbreakable structure,
No one will hurt me,
If I have to hate, so be it.
My teeth are showing,
I was grinning but now, if you look closely you’ll see, my teeth are bared.
My claws are out and I have back up,
I have friends.
Friends I might not always need, because I know that dependence is a downfall.
I know what weakness is,
I know what mine is,
You can’t see them,
I can stand guard all night long.
Call me ‘Thick’, Call me ‘Stupid’.
Be sarcastic I encourage it.
Prove to me how strong I can be,
Test my limits.
Because I can smell that bittersweet hypocrisy, it’s billowing out like a putrid puff of pollution.
I can taste your fear of yourself; I know you feel small to me now,
I am the bogeyman,
It took so long for you to gather the guts to stand up and say this.
Yet you seem to stammer it out like a man with a gun pointed at him.
You are weak.
I am not.
Stop being pathetic,
Stop bitching about me,
Say more then on the surface,
Stop contradicting yourself.
Talk less like a human,
Talk like a person,
And I’ll stop treating you like the fool you are being.
I’m suggesting this as a friend, not an enemy.
All you are doing is dwelling, a dangerous pastime.
Stop being scared, stop fearing me.
“Monkey killing monkey, killing monkey over a piece of land”
That’s the philosophy you are following and you don’t even realise it.
When you stand at a distance.
Things are much bigger.
A person is still the same height,
But what lingers above their head is huge.
Well it lingers,
Yes and wether it is projected or not,
its the image everyone looks at.
I am no different to the others,
I'll always see a persons projected image first,
I differ to some,
With observing comes knowledge and a little more sadness,
As everything i find out is wrong is a former belief.
Everything that was right,
I wish it had the opposite effect.
But all that i hear
is a mutter "Told ya"
This blog will not be about sadness,
This won't be full of talk of disease.
Not like before, can't go back again.
I'm a cold river rock rock.
I am volatile.
Throw me in the fire and i will warm, but keep me there too long and i will explode.
I'll be back later,
I wish this year would be new, but there is school work from the past.
Seriously, I don't care about imaginary journeys.
I don’t want schoolwork that breaks the boundaries here.
I’m quite content with arithmetic and IPT,
Then I can be a drone,
And not have to put this thought into, because I can’t do it.
I just can not, put that kind of thought into an essay or a speech.
I can’t have a take on this.
And because I am not strong enough to just go along with it,
I will get a bad UAI,
I will not get to go for my Primary school teaching degree,
I just can’t do this English work,
Drama – Fine
Music – Ok,
IPT – More then Ok,
Maths – Simplicity,
English – “I’m a fucking whore filling your head with complete bullshit”
All this intense thinking about something I don’t really care about,
Makes one reluctant to do any work whatsoever.