admiral william “husker’ adama
mine :
category : ::sob::, amuserings & musings
comments : nada mucho
mine :
mine :
category : ::sob::, amuserings & musings
The Cylons were created by man
They rebelled
They evolved
They look and feel human
Some are programmed to think they are human
There are many copies
And they have a plan
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mine :
They rebelled
They evolved
They look and feel human
Some are programmed to think they are human
There are many copies
And they have a plan
unless you’ve been living under a rock or are a godless heathen or something, you’ve heard of battlestar galactica. unless you are completely devoid of taste or intelligence, you’ve watched battlestar galactica.
tonight, tonight is the end of an era, motherfuckers. and i am not holdin’ it together all that well. five years, five long years…i cannot believe it’s all coming to an end. and of course, from the moment i saw the mini series, from season one, we’ve known the end is nigh. even ron moore has said repeatedly that this is one story to tell that will have a beginning, middle, and end…and then it will be over. but that doesn’t mean i want to see it go. and of course, i know it can’t have a simpsons-like run…but a world without battlestar galactica? is that a world i want to live in?
i just don’t know.
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category : ::sob::, mehz0rz
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because as bad as it sounds, my mind was occupied by other things at the time. i wasn’t necessarily distracted so much as putting it off, i suppose. too busy thinking about how small he was and how badly i wanted him to feel better and how much i would give to make everything ok. everything back the way it was…the way it was when the world was ok.
i never said good-bye because that is final. it is ending a chapter and slamming the book shut and turning out the lights and being finally and completely over, and i could not do that. of all the things i can and have done in my life, i have to say that i am just not strong enough for some. and could not bring myself to say it. the words stopped in my throat, choked back by the way the world was squeezing in on us, crushing us all down. ghost words swimming in the back of my throat, in a sea of tears. bitter words.
it’s been a while…27,843,200 seconds; 630,720 minutes; 10,512 hours; 62 weeks; 14 months; 1 year 2 months 10 days…and every hurt is just as fresh as ever. i can close my eyes and re-live every single moment right down to the nanosecond and when i open them the world is bright, stark and thrumming with pain that has not lessened one instance since then.
but it is never about what was left unsaid, the words that some people say should be spoken. it would not have changed anything, it would not have stopped anything…it would have been a cold, false comfort in a world where there is none.
i never said good-bye…
because i was too busy saying i love you.
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category : ::sob::
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i’m trying.
i’m trying really hard.
i’m trying really hard not to cry.
i’m trying really hard not to cry today…
because.
because i’m
because i’m afraid
because i’m afraid that once i start
i won’t be able to stop.
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category : ::sob::, mehz0rz
comments : nada mucho
mine :
I remember you as you were in the last autumn.
You were the grey beret and the still heart.
In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on.
And the leaves fell in the water of your soul.
Clasping my arms like a climbing plant
the leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace.
Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning.
Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul.
I feel your eyes traveling, and the autumn is far off:
Grey beret, voice of a bird, heart like a house
Towards which my deep longings migrated
And my kisses fell, happy as embers.
Sky from a ship. Field from the hills:
Your memory is made of light, of smoke, of a still pond!
Beyond your eyes, farther on, the evenings were blazing.
Dry autumn leaves revolved in your soul.
august is over, and with the end of the month comes a heavy sorrow that i had not prepared myself for. the dawn of autumn brings about a season of change, that no matter how much i dread, i am not able to prepare myself for.
avoidance seems to be working. sunday i spent all day sprawled out, plastered within myself by a prevailing ache. nothing and no one could make it stop, and all i wanted to do was squeeze my eyes shut and block out the world, to disappear.
that is my greatest wish: to disappear. shut my brain off, close out the rest of the world, and fade away. when everything is too much, too hard, too raw…i wish to vanish.
and, okay, so maybe that’s not the most mature way of dealing with things and i probably completely ruined the boy’s weekend in the process but…
it hurts.
there’s a handful of days that simply hurt.
and as the summer winds down, i just don’t know how i’m going to deal with the fall, the winter…and everything that goes with it.
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category : ::sob::
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today i’m staring down the barrel of an entirely different gun. before, i was thinking how completely unfathomable it was to have time limited in such a fashion…how unbefuckinglievably small that amount of time was…beyond unfair, beyond terrifying, beyond anything i could imagine.
at the time.
it’s funny how life has a way of taking your worst fears, your worst imaginable scenarios and taking them apart and making them even worse.
today time is mocking me in an entirely different fashion.
before, all i could see and all i could think of was that 6 months was in no way, shape, or fashion anywhere remotely near ENOUGH. and then i learned, then i found out…no matter how awful such a limit sounded to me at the time, i had no idea how bad it could really be. i had no idea just how little time there was…but i found out.
now, all i can see and all i can think of is that 6 months is woefully, heartbreakingly, painfully too long. i am…bereft. jaded, jilted and crushed and i have gone too long without…the worst part is, this is only bound to get worse. today it feels like too long since…
far, far too long.
but tomorrow will bring no reprieve, tomorrow only ticks and tocks away the seconds that make every fucking thing worse. because it’s only going to get longer. and there’s not a fucking thing i can do about it.
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