Colleo_Keane's Xanga

Fable of the Discontent

Sun, 24 Dec 2006 00:41:46 GMT

To hate life

What a strange pace to be in.

Well, more discontent than anything…

What’s the point? Why am I here?

Why?

Is there too much pain? Do I feel abandoned?

No, not abandoned, no real pain either. Then why?

Uncertainty I guess. Contradictions…

Looking for meaning in a life filled with purpose.

Waiting a friend in a room full of people.

Voicing out against hypocrisy and knowing you are a hypocrite.

Being sad when you should be happy.

Wanting to be loved while knowing you are.

Looking for the touch that is just inches away.

Why do I feel this way? I don’t know…

It’s not as bad as it was. I know she loves me.

Why do it still hurt?

Why do I still hurt…

Friday, December 08, 2006

Fri, 08 Dec 2006 17:21:55 GMT

I'll have part 3 soon enough. There is no part I. This is an updated version...

Aegri somnia

(A sick mans dreams)

Part II

A long pregnant pause followed. He looked up over the bottle of Jack at the blank faces across from him, hoping to find some meaning in there vacant gazes. The place almost as run down as the poor bastards that shared its company. The bar was made out of dark oak and was scratched and warped from years of squalor. The stools cradled your bottom rather nicely, but your legs had an impeccable tendency to go numb after a few hours. They were comfortable, but not comfortable enough to allow the alkies to fall asleep on them. Probably the only positive thing you could really say about it was that the glasses were clean. He stared at the bottle of Captain Morgan® next to him and realizing how smug the captain looked, he turned the bottle away since he was in no mood for company.

            “My wife…” he muttered to an audience of one. She wasn’t his wife, never was, but with how long it had lasted she might as well have been. She still… He took another drink, feeling the apathy he yearned for flowing into his veins. “My God, what have I done?”
            He placed his hands onto his now swollen, burning eyes. Resting his forehead on the table, he gripped the back of his skull with his trembling hands as he felt another wave of pain flow through his body. He never knew when the pain was coming anymore. He could be doing the most simple of tasks when a torrent of torment would sweep over him. It felt like a pickax was being driven into his all ready dark and shriveled heart. The pain was not what truly bothering him though. What truly overwhelmed him was the emptiness. In the space that existed between the moments of agony, he could feel nothing. No joy, anger…nothing. It was like being asleep for years and waking up in hell.
            Did anyone understand the pain he was in?

            No… not even her. She couldn’t…could she?
            For a moment, the image of her weeping flashed through his mind. She looked up at him with those beautiful brown eyes, now sick and empty, the expression on her face capable of shattering even the brightest day.
            His stomach wrenched as the pain welled up inside of him so strongly he nearly threw up. Tears burst forth from his already throbbing eyes, adding salt to an already gaping wound. He tried to cry out but the pain lodged itself in his throat. The bones in his wrists ached as a deep shudder of anguish tore through his body.
            “My God, what have I done?”

With a pool of salty tears forming on the table, he continued to sit, his face in a caustic puddle; one hand on the bottle and the other gripping his aching stomach. He begged for contact; a kiss, an embrace… He would do anything to simply rest his hand on her face and wipe away her…

“Shut up.” he whimpered to himself as he took another swig from the bottle, not even bothering to pour the tainted liquid into a glass. Every articulation in his body felt like it was fragmenting apart as he felt another wave sweep over him. “Kill me,” he selfishly pleaded, “please…kill me”

“What the hell have I done…?”

She said she would never regret the time they had spent together. That she would cherish every moment they had spent together. He did not share her sentiment. He was beginning to loath it. The thought of her used to bring him so much joy but, now it caused him unbearable pain. Even though he wanted to be able to cherish those memories, he found he couldn’t.

He finished off the bottle of Jack and checked his wallet. Empty. He could have brought more money but limiting his cash prevented him from doing anything foolish. It was time to go home.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Sun, 19 Nov 2006 01:49:17 GMT

Aegri somnia

(a sick mans dreams)

Part 2

A long pregnant pause followed. He looked over the bottle of Jack at the blank faces across from him, trying to find the significance that seemed to be absent in his own life

“My wife…” he muttered to an audience of one. She wasn’t his wife, never was, but with how long it had been she might as well be. She still could… He took another drink, feeling the apathy he yearned passing into his veins. “My God, what have I done?”

He placed his hands onto his now swollen, burning eyes. Why did it have to be like this? Resting his forehead on the table, he griped the back of his head with his hands as he felt another wave of pain flow through his body, ripping through him and making him shake violently. He never knew when the pain was coming. He could be doing the simplest of tasks, like getting dressed, when a torrent of torment would sweep over him. It felt like a pickax was being driven into his now dark and battered heart. It wasn’t the pain that truly bothered him though. The emptiness was what agonized him; the utter and surprising lack of emotion. In the space that existed between the moment of agony he felt nothing. No joy, no anger…nothing. It was like being asleep and then waking up in hell.

Did anyone understand the pain he was in?

No… not even her. She couldn’t understand…

Could she? For a moment the image of her weeping flashed through his mind. She looked up at him with those beautiful brown eyes, now sick and empty, the expression on her face capable of shattering even the brightest day.

His stomach wrenched. The pain welled up inside of him so strongly he nearly threw up. Tears burst forth from his already throbbing eyes, like adding salt to an already gapping wound. He tried to cry out but the pain lodged itself in his throat. The bones in his wrists ached as a deep shudder of anguish tore through his body.

“My God. What have I done..?”

Monday, October 16, 2006

Mon, 16 Oct 2006 22:16:28 GMT

Bush pledges to keep U.S. troops in Iraq

When will it end?

The Saddest Song Ever

Fri, 13 Oct 2006 19:52:49 GMT

This song was wriiten by Billie Holiday and was an adaptation of a work written by Rezsô Seress.

It was considered so sad that it gained the reputation as the suicide song.

What do you think?

Sunday is gloomy,
My hours are slumberless
Dearest the shadows
I live with are numberless
Little white flowers
Will never awaken you
Not where the black coaches
Sorrow has taken you
Angels have no thoughts
Of ever returning you
Wouldnt they be angry
If I thought of joining you?

Gloomy sunday

Gloomy is sunday,
With shadows I spend it all
My heart and i
Have decided to end it all
Soon therell be candles
And prayers that are said I know
But let them not weep
Let them know that Im glad to go
Death is no dream
For in death Im caressin you
With the last breath of my soul
Ill be blessin you

Gloomy sunday

Dreaming, I was only dreaming
I wake and I find you asleep
In the deep of my heart here
Darling I hope
That my dream never haunted you
My heart is tellin you
How much I wanted you
Gloomy sunday

Monday, September 18, 2006

Mon, 18 Sep 2006 10:41:41 GMT

Archbishop backs Vatican apology
"There are elements in Islam that can be used to justify violence, just as there are in Christianity and Judaism," he said.

"These religious faiths, because they are held by human beings who are very fallible, can be distorted in these ways and we all need to recognise that."

He added: "There is always a temptation for Christians to say to Muslims: 'I will tell you what your history is about', just as Muslims sometimes say to Christians. Sometimes they get it deeply wrong.

"The example the Pope took from the Middle Ages shows in its phrasing how in the Middle Ages people got it wrong on both sides and Muslim distortions of Christian history are just as laughable as Christian distortions of Muslim history.

"The big question that comes out of this for me is how much are we prepared to listen to the other person telling their story and how much are both sides prepared to be self-critical in discussing aspects of their history that are not pretty and not edifying."

Friday, August 25, 2006

Fri, 25 Aug 2006 04:17:09 GMT

Stem-cell technique designed to save embryos

By Los Angeles Times and The Philadelphia Inquirer

JULIA MALAKIE / AP, 2004

Dr. Robert Lanza is the lead researcher of Advanced Cell Technology, which developed a way to generate human embryonic stem-cell colonies without intentionally destroying embryos.

A biotech company has developed a way to generate human embryonic stem-cell colonies without intentionally destroying embryos in the process.

Lead researcher Dr. Robert Lanza of Advanced Cell Technology, based in Alameda, Calif., said Wednesday that "this removes the last rational reason for opposing" research aimed at using the cells to understand and treat diseases.
(Site)
More on this later...

Monday, August 21, 2006

Mon, 21 Aug 2006 12:39:24 GMT

America’s Brave New World?

America is fast approaching an age close to that of Huxley’s masterpiece Brave New World. Although many choose to deny it, Huxley’s anti-utopia is closer than we think.
"When the individual feels, the community reels." Lenina, Chapter 6, Part 1, pg. 94 Brave New World
          The sale of antidepressants has grown steadily stronger over the years. Little pills that now allow people to stay in a chemical induced bliss with few adverse side effects. Like soma in Brave New World, antidepressants are a mainstay in our culture and are given to anyone disenchanted with our culture. Despite being linked to suicidal risk in teens1 and the elderly2 antidepressants are still prescribed. We can even use implants to stimulate parts of the brain, provide a pill free alternative.4
          "There's always soma to calm your anger, to reconcile you to your enemies, to make you patient and long-suffering. In the past you could only accomplish these things by making a great effort and after years of hard moral training. Now, you swallow two or three half-gramme tablets, and there you are. Anybody can be virtuous now. You can carry at least half your morality about in a bottle. Christianity without tears-that's what soma is." World Controller Mustapha Mond, Chapter 17, pg. 238 Brave New World
          The idea of family is becoming increasingly obsolete in American society. With a divorce rate close to 50%, one in two children will live in a single-parent family at some point in childhood. 3 More than one million children have parents who separate or divorce each year.3 Many children have to live with the idea of a life with only one parent… or no parents at all.

Aldous Huxley
           With advances in medical technology it is now theoretically possible for the first time to clone a human.5 Such advances in cloning could eventually lead to a realistic version of the Bokanovsky’s Process described in the book. Artificial womb technology is also being investigated on a serious scientific level⁶. These two factors could eventually lead to the realization of the processes described in Brave New World that would allow parentless children.
          Although the conditioning process described in Brave New World isn’t in practice, society and the media more than makes up for it. Americans watch an average of 4 hours of television a day, and children spend more time watching television than in any other activity except sleep.7 Our Societies morality is dwindling.
          According to the American Academy of Pediatrics, 36.9 percent of 14-year-olds have had sex - more than one out of three. Among 12th graders, 66.4 percent have had sex.7
        But how could this happen? Why is it happening?
          A study of 1792 adolescents ages 12-17 showed that watching sex on TV influences teens to have sex. … Basically, kids with higher exposure to sex on TV were almost twice as likely than kids with lower exposure to initiate sexual intercourse. - Study Conducted by RAND and published in the September 2004 issue of Pediatrics.7
          But that is for children who view sex on television. TV isn’t that rampant with sex, is it?
          In a sample of programming from the 2001-2002 TV season, sexual content appeared in 64% of all TV programs. Those programs with sexually related material had an average of 4.4 scenes per hour. Talk of sex is more frequent (61%) vs. overt portrayals (32%). 1 out of every 7 programs includes a portrayal of sexual intercourse.7
          The next generation of America is being desensitized, and not only to sex…
          By age 18, a U.S. youth will have seen 16,000 simulated murders and 200,000 acts of violence.
          The effect of all this socialization is more dramatic than many would like to think.
          Children can begin to distinguish brands during their preschool years. Six-month-old babies can visualize corporate logos and mascots, according to the Center for a New American Dream. Brand loyalty begins as early as age 2. The average 3-year-old recognizes 100 different brand logos.8

Materialism… plain and simple…

“Ending is better than mending. The more stitches, the less riches." Sleep-teaching, Chapter 3, pg. 49 Brave New World

More later

1) http://www.xanga.com/Colleo_Keane/348361957/item.html
2) http://www.xanga.com/Colleo_Keane/479687086/item.html
3) http://www.womedia.org/taf_statistics.htm
4) http://www.usnews.com/usnews/health/articles/060220/20brain_5.htm
5) http://www.guardian.co.uk/genes/article/0,,1824397,00.html
6)http://www.popsci.com/popsci/futurebody/dc8d9371b1d75010vgnvcm1000004eecbccdrcrd.html

7) http://www.parentstv.org/PTC/facts/mediafacts.asp
8) http://www.focusonyourchild.com/entertain/art1/A0000229.html

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Tue, 08 Aug 2006 18:44:40 GMT

Trou Noir

Watch me, the once beautiful star, obsessed with my own brilliance.
An image which others idol from afar, but still driven by valence.
I could have given the gift of light; give it to those that need it.
But I decided to go and smite, those that weren’t permitted

The beauty of my bluish flame hid the pain within.
Others came and saw the same, smiling stupid grins.
They ignored, and so did I, that something was perverse.
And so I held onto the lie, and ignored my growing curse.

The vigor inside of me dwindled, wasted on the growing cancer.
The heart deep within me shriveled, fed on lies instead of answers.
Then the energy within ran out, I could not take it anymore.
My form exploded and then blacked out into an object of rancor.

I expand, explode and twitch, with the pain within.
I live a life bound and bewitched, to my verve of sin.
Despite my sins, others abound, trying to gain my favor.
But in time, the dumb are crowned, bound by their behavior.

My gravity pulls the others in, tearing them apart.
Not a son of God, but a brother of sin, seeking power without heart
I wasted my life on terrible voids, now not unlike myself.
My futile pursuits and a life devoid, made a monster of the self…

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Thu, 04 May 2006 16:16:13 GMT

Is America free anymore, or are we heading towards tyranny?

They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.
Benjamin Franklin