Losev

Losev in Alrizan means Love. However, its connotation is much more advanced than the disreputed meaning of English. What what is Love?

Love is not just a word, nor is it the feeling of infatuation towards an individual. It is sacrifice. To say, "I love you" is to say "I will sacrifice for you." Indeed it does hold the concept of infatuation, for without this, there is no means nor need to give up something you hold dear to you. For what is sacrifice if it is not of something valuable? Time and peace of mind are two common sacrifices for Love, as well as the lesser gifts of materialistic possessions.  The greatest gift you will ever give is NOT Love. The greatest gift you will ever give shall be given to Love.

Indeed, how great your Love is, is both demonstrated and forged by the amount of your sacrifice.

For also, Love is a person. But what does it mean to call one, "Love"? Beyond the statement of offered sacrifice, it is a vow of honesty, saying "You are my only," and of undeterred dedication, saying "I will always fight for, and to never lose, you." The prior suggests ignoring other potential mates and the latter, giving everything and enforcing every effort to keep Love. While "everything" and "every effort" involves personal safety, time, and energy, there are no bounds to what must be surrendered.

If Love is lost, and you are haunted without end for far too long a time by whispers of the past, ghosts in the shape of memories...it is likely you sacrificed a great deal for Love. As it is written by Kahlil Gibran, "When you are sorrowful, look [into your heart]...and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight." And indeed, the sacrifices you make are a delight.

Losev is a name, a vow, a statement. Losev is not just a word.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary...

It is a haunting, unforgiving, intangible demon. It creeps into your mind and lays eggs in the synapses of your brain, for random electrical impulses to find. At a spark of what may have led to joy, the transmission is intercepted by the waiting, stalking thoughts. They reveal themselves at expected and unexpected times. As soon as the oceans of despair begin to swell, as soon as the eggs of the demon hatch, there is no stemming the flow of misery to come.

I have tried. I always try.

The demon Depression, will creep, haunt the shadows of one's mind. It strikes without mercy. It strikes with intent to ruin. And indeed it does destroy the brightest thoughts. It clouds out all logic, dulling the silver linings, and abolishes even desire to be content, let alone happy. An overpowering sadness overflows and invades every waking, sleeping thought. It will not go away if you ask it nicely. It will not leave when you demand. The demon Depression obeys its own desires, wills. And it wills misery on the unfortunate.

Eyan zu'e Losev, Losev al~eyan

"When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight." -Kahlil Gibran

Have you ever noticed the shuddered sobs of sorrow are so similar to broken breaths of laughter?

It is as though one is imprinted with the other.

Self Portrait

They say you can tell a lot about someone by their self portrait. It shows how they view themselves. My view is biased...I wonder what mine says about me.

(Sorry for the poor quality, I need a better scanner)

Stream of Conciousness

*Note from the author: This blog post attempts to incorporate the theme of this blog. Please do not judge or over-interpret what I write: I'm writing the honest thoughts that drift through my head unabashedly. If you find it too offensive, detailed, confusing, or inappropriate, then don't read it. If you call the writing immature, or the style I've chosen amateur, go read James Joyce' "Ulysses".

I fear God. Is there God? Modes of power. Politics. Religion is control. Cigarette. Addiction to internet, facebook, myspace, blogging are social cigarettes. Need job, bad handshake at end of interview. Ruger 10/22. Money solves problems? Her arms around me, moist lips, sweet smelling, shaking cry. Whispers, music Coldplay, Calexico, Little Lion Man. Empty head. Write. Cigarette. Bad handshake...thanked for time, bad handshake. Addiction, snowglobe with friends. Ecstasy, not in the desert, Santa Barbara. Windy, cold. Cold is Santa Barbara mornings. Wait for bus. Girls from class: Why didn't I say something? Friends...One good friend here. Hike! Need work...bad handshake. Meditate, there is no seaweed at the beach. Johnny's, rock on. Fender, new guitar. Old strings. Need new strings. Want money, will it solve--she invades me thoughts. I know you are awake, chills down spine. Stomach pain, need to eat. Eggs. Mustard, she's in my arms. Early morning, wet, sick, water. Kiss in water, lake, wake up, Love. Cigarettes caused the fights. Fights...why didn't I fight? Why didn't I fight...God, why didn't I fight? Edgepride, arrogant son of a bitch. Thanks, Mom. Have another drink, is a bottle enough for--her hand...am I inside? Could this be--polish shoes. Bad handshake. Engulf with passionate, sweet smelling lip gloss, lost my necklace. Why didn't you let me, why didn't you truly love me?  Cigarette. Coffee, she'll die soon. Better that way, Grandpa--found the ashtray, saw the pipe. Smashed pipe. Angry, angry...not me, angry. Better than--nothing. Mount doom, Dunadan. Level up, why does she haunt my dreams? I've never met her, why does she bake cookies. Cigarette. Don't smoke, quit. Quit. Why didn't I fight? I should have kept her. Too high in the clouds to care while camping, drink, blackout, dentist. Wisdom teeth need to be damn phone. Write a song, rock on Johnnys. Conceited bassist, arrogant...but So am I. Alrizan, is it truly language? What defines--to be. We be by means we dare, dream. So be it. Welcome, O life, I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience. Stole books, broken heart. Lies...so many lies, and people are hurt. She'll die soon. Cigarette. Resist, don't buy more. Cold, windy. Cold is Santa-Coldplay. She's in my arms. Why does she haunt my resting nights and sleeping no more nightmares. No more...write, draw. Distract. Write a poem that's not iambic or free-flowing water surrounds the rock. Passing IVC, Where's Waldo? Question everything--why? Tag, Ruger 10/22. I was nine. He died. She'll die soon. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Joe Ceremony was very short. Child. Can't be teacher, no patience. Life? Where am I going? draw. write. write.
Sometimes, my pen needed simply to touch paper. I have little else to say.