Article, Public Speaking

Many people would go to almost any length to avoid doing public speaking. Whether it's for school, for work, charity or something else; public speaking makes most of us at least slightly nervous. Some are so terrified of being up on stage that they start sweating and shaking from the mere thought. But somehow many people who really don't like speaking in public still get it done and well. So how do they do it?

I'll let you in on a secret -I'm always nervous when I go out on stage, when I do public performances of any kind including public speaking. But nobody's the wiser. Every single one of the people around me think I've got it all figured out and not a care in the world.
You'd be surprised to know how many good speakers really are nervous when performing, even if we seek out those kind of situations or work in those kinds of jobs. Nerves do not have to make you into a bad speaker.

So what to do? Well, there's tons of stuff of course and different things work better for different people. But here's some of it:

Remember that you're not speaking to a bunch of people, you're actually talking to a group of persons. If you take away everyone but say a friend from that crows, you're only really talking like you do everyday. That's really what the situation is. You're just talking to somebody, this time there happens to be several somebodies, but they're still just persons listening to what you've got to say. Think on the positive aspects of speaking in public. You get to say what you have to say and nobody will probably interrupt you, you've got the floor, you've got the time, nobody but you gets to speak when you do. In a way -you've got the power.

Also as I said, you're just talking to people. Try and act like it. Don't make the speech into a you and them scenario, talk with them -throw out questions, side comments, a joke or two, these aren't just to loosen up the crowd, they're for your benefit as well to get back to a healthy perspective on the situation. Instead of focusing your eyes on a far away inanimate target, look at the people. Find the friendly faces in the crowd and speak to them as if you were just talking to a friend about a subject that inspires you (in a longer speech than normal yeah, but at least they won't interrupt you). Encourage questions if it's allowed because that makes the speech even more of a conversation.

Know your subject, don't necessarily know your speech. Power point presentations are great because if you lose your way you can just take a moment and check your keywords on the screen. It's doubly great because then you don't have to have too complex notes on you and no papers that rattle.

Don't be afraid of silence. Often when speaking in public we tend to talk really fast if we do know our subject (if we lose our way, it's the hemming and hawing instead), don't be afraid to make pauses and let something you've said sink in. Take a sip of water, study your notes in peace, just close your mouth, look out the window for a moment and breathe.

Moving around is good, so is keeping something in your hand like a pen. An old favorite of mine is taking a seat on top of the desk or the stage or whatever's in front if that's allowed (I usually don't ask, but some teachers frown on that stuff so you might wanna clear it with them first) to get a more casual feel going. Then you can move away, doodle on the board, make gestures with your hands and so on.

Here's the key element to remember though: You're not making a speech, you're telling people about something that you know about that may or may not interest them but that you want to speak of anyway and now you can, because it's your show.

Alright, that's the loooong and not so short of it.
Good luck with your continued speaking!

^^

Story, Serenity

She usually came in late autumn. Just when the last leaves were giving way to the mighty storm winds of the west. She never stayed for more than a few months and always left as the first flower broke through the ground. She came from the north and officially it was to avoid the cold weather of her homeland that she visited each season, but somehow people didn’t quite believe that one. Because when she came the winter intensified. Not the cold or the snow, but the Winter. The winter magics of snowballs and snowmen, candlelit evenings and warm cocoa by the fire. It was like the whole town came to a different sort of life, a fairytale existence. She didn’t even need to be physically present to make a change in people’s attitudes about their lives. All it usually took was the first sighting of her in one of the local stores and the whole population would start to simmer and bubble with new found joie de vivre. There were parties and dancing, dinners and activities. People went to visit each other more frequently, started to cook so that the food would always be enough for at least one person more around the dinner table. Few ever spoke about it of course, but everybody knew that it was ‘that northern lady’ that did it. No one knew how or why or what exactly happened, but each time you met her or even saw her you came away feeling more alive, more human than ever. But like with all the old magics you didn’t talk about it too much for fear it would somehow break the spell.

She had long auburn hair and eyes like the clear ice of the river at high winter. When she smiled she did it with her whole face and when she laughed you could hear it for blocks away. She always had a kind word for every person and if ever there was some trouble stirring up in the community she just happened to be there to stand up for the wronged and soothe the troubled spirits. She was a healer too, or that was how the whispers went. When she treated it a blooded nose stopped running, a cut wound mended without a scar and worn out muscles were warmed by her warm singing and her red hot palms. Hot cocoa was her trademark. If and when you saw her out at a café somewhere it was sipping some hot cocoa with whipped cream and marshmallows while reading a book, writing something down with a small mysterious smile on her lips, talking with someone in an animate manner or just looking out on the people and the world with serenity written on her face.

Some said she was royalty from some distant line that no one had heard about. Maybe the grand daughter of Anastasia or some other exiled heir to a far away throne. Others, often the oldest people and the ones with roots in some mysticism or another claimed that she was a fallen goddess that had chosen to walk on Earth in human form to help her people and charges. Or that she was a powerful sorceress that you might do well to stay away from if you were not of the purest heart and intentions. Other still said that she was simply a drifting spirit who’s primary purpose in life was to experience and to share her experiences with the world. A few disgruntled voices meant that she was nothing but a traveling writer looking for inspiration and her magics was just the work of overactive imaginations and wishful thinking. But they all watched and listened as she came every autumn. They watched and listened as she left every spring. And they all kept quiet once she left. Guarding the magic for another season until the time when she would return and brighten their spirits once more.

Random, I Am in Truth a Marvellous Creation

I have two legs: To take me on a trip around the world, running silently through a forest, striding with vigor through the mountains of old, dancing the hours of the night away.

I have two feet: To walk in my own shoes without apologies, to choose my own paths without regret, fear or hesitation.

I have two arms: To hold a loved one close to me and never let go, to cradle a child in silent comfort, to catch a stranger if they should fall.

I have two hands: To create things of might and beauty, to sooth a tender neck, to caress a troubled shoulder, to hold another above the water. In no case will I let you drown if I can prevent it.

I have two shoulders: To carry some of your load if you let me, to lift the heavens themselves so they do not come crashing down on the defenseless, to way the scales of justice equally.

I have two ears: To hear a cry drifting in the night, to hear a plea, a pardon, an endearment, to hear the wind and the voices of the heart.

I have two eyes: To see clearly the world around me, to see truth and never blink at what I see, to wonder at the marvels of the world and cry tears of joy.

I have one nose: To smell the flowers in the summer air, the scent of newly baked bread made with love, to smell out the bad and know that it has no place in my presence.

I have one mouth: To speak softly, to sing gently, to whisper words of wisdom, to kiss a cheek, a forehead or expectant lips.

I have one mind: To invent new things of wonder, to think up fairytales and music, to understand that I am one, but not alone.

I have one heart: To open up to every single creature, to love without boundaries, to know what living is all about and rejoice at the wonders of the world.

I have one soul: That is what I am most grateful for, that is what I treasure most, that is my pride and joy. I have a soul and it knows me and all of you. I have a soul and so have you. We are one and that is the truest of all wonders.

Article, Get Online or Get Out?

“If you don’t have a webpage you don’t exist.” Those are words I’ve heard a thousand times. Heard them, read them, said them and as you know -the more something is repeated the closer it gets to being the truth. 

In a world of multinational companies, international sales markets and globalization, anything that can shrink the world for your company, organization or one man firm is a good thing. Anything that brings you closer to your target group is good. And as we all know easy is a keyword for clients, no matter what product they’re after. Easy, fast and inexpensive.

Once we know what we can get and how, then we can start spending some money. If there is an easy way to get in touch with the supplier from start to finish of course. That’s why company’s have to go online. If you have a computer or at least easy access to one your easiest way of finding the right supplier of a product or service is googling your query and surf in on one of the many pages that are bound to appear.

Fine-tuning your search will hopefully lead to the best suppliers for the goods you’re after and then it’s basically a done deal. If, IF the company’s homepage is attractive, speedy, easily navigated and with interesting content.

That’s how you make business work -supply what’s demanded.

Text, Sleeping in Silence (Travel)

When I was young and traveling with my family I used to look at all of these travelers and backpackers at the airport and think they were so, very, cool. The way they dressed, the way they moved, the way they carried around a million things, listening to a Walkman while juggling water, chips and literature from an airport store. They looked so important somehow these people. They didn't have any suits or fancy briefcases, but they looked as if they were going places for real, learning about life, exploring the world. They seemed to somehow be content within themselves. Young bodies, old eyes and laughing faces. They didn't care about convention either. Sure they were friendly and courteous, but they did what they wanted to.

The girl snuggling up with her worn out jeans and bare feet on the cushy lounge chair overlooking the airport hall with a Kafka book in hand, humming some strange tune I'd never heard before. The guys taking turns sleeping on a row of stuffed chairs with metal edges. Two of them playing cards to keep each other awake while their buddies slept so that everyone would get their sleep and no one would get their luggage stolen. The lone, young woman dressed all in white linen hurriedly walking along to the international flights with her cabin bag rolling behind her and her tickets kept in a tight grip. The guy catching a ride with our taxi to the layover hotel. Young people going places. I used to imagine where they had been, where they were going, what they thought and felt as they waited twelve hours straight for their flights to start up again. Going out, going home, going somewhere...

Then of course it was my turn to grow up, my turn to travel and see the world on my own. But it's funny, even after I've been places, seen and done amazing things I still get that magical feeling when I look at young travelers at the airport. Even when I've been the one dressed all in white after the hottest summer ever at the continent to land in Stockholm and almost freeze to death in the pouring rain outside, waiting for the taxi cab to -please come pick me up soon. When I myself have gotten to the point when traveling that I simply didn't care anymore, laid down on those metal edged chairs with my laptop in a firm grip as my pillow, praying that I would hear the alarm go off before my flight while listening to my favorite travel CD. Wishing fervently for silence at the same time, just needing to rest and sleep undisturbed by motor sounds and air sickness and rowdy, drunken people on vacation.

I've crept up in those lounge chairs myself with sandy, naked feet, reading a paperback book, ignoring the looks from the business travelers. They'd do it too, given half a chance. I've waited 2 hours for flights, I've waited 13. And lord knows I didn't care about the coolness factor when my parents treated me to a layover at a hotel that once. The hotel concierge calling me 'miss' which is more or less unheard of in Sweden barely rated a raised eyebrow because in just a few minutes I would finally be sleeping in a soft, comfortable bed, in silence.

I want to feel the magic. I want to go again!

Poem, No More Talking

I’d ask you for forgiveness,
but really, what is there to forgive?
If you thought that my love
was like your love,
then you were mistaken.
I always said I was a loner, didn’t I?

I’d ask you to respect my choice,
but really, what was in the choosing?
I never chose the life I lead, it chose me.
I’d ask you to remember
all the good times with the bad.
But it’s not up to me to decide
what you think of me,
from now on.
As it wasn’t in the past.
I always said we must make our own way, didn’t I?

I’d ask you not to cry.
I’d ask you not to lie.
I’d ask you not to curse me.
I’d ask you to -please try.
But nothing I ask will take these words
and change them from Goodbye.
Though I said I’d always love you, didn’t I?

Story, Thrilling Luck

A rough draft from way back. Should probably edit it at some point, flesh it out into a proper short story. But not today.

~*~ 

”Here we are now walking through one of the Green corridors.” Some of them laughed, but not everyone. It had been a long day… Just a few hours ago some of them might have asked why an absolutely white corridor was called green, but by now most were too tired to ask. Undisturbed by the lack of interest from his students the guide continued answering the unspoken question.

”It sounds like a stupid name for a plain white corridor, I know,” he laughed lightly. ”But there is a reason for the name. You see here we control all the Environmental systems of the building.”

Everybody went ”oh” and then their faces went blank again. They continued their walk through the empty corridor…

”What’s that?”

Sarah’s eyes followed to where the finger had pointed, but then she looked back at the guide. For a minute she thought she had seen something draw over his face, was it fear, anger, irritation? She searched for a clue in his eyes, but now the mask was back and the guide smiled as broadly as ever.

”That, ”he laughed, but didn’t she hear a slight nervous tone in his voice when he continued? ”That’s nothing, absolutely nothing. Just a storage room, that’s all.”

The boy, who had asked, lowered his arm and the crowd followed the guide as he continued his walk.

Soon enough, they stopped again, the guide now pointing at a big computer screen, while talking with a loud voice.



Oh my, she really had to go… She remembered seeing a toilet sign just a few minutes ago.

Perhaps she should tell her teacher, but he was busy talking to the guide now and she didn’t want to disturb.

”Pst…Charlotte, I’ve really gotta go. Tell them to wait for me, OK?”

She didn’t wait for the reply…



Sarah looked in the mirror one last time and then walked out of the room.

The door with the ”ladies” sign shut behind her and she walked back to the big computer screen. Only now to discover that there were no guide, nor any students, in sight.

”Damn it,” she muttered. Charlotte hadn’t heard her. Her first instinct was to just follow the corridor, they couldn’t have one far, but then she got a wild idea; the mysterious door…

She couldn’t have been mistaken. The guide had acted strangely when Tom had asked about the so called ”storage room”.



Standing in front of the door, Sarah takes a deep breath.

”Well, here goes nothing.”

She presses down the door handle and surprise; it’s not locked.

She looks around one last time to make sure no one is coming down the corridor and then she slips through the door.

”What the…”



She had stepped into a new corridor, a perfect copy of the one she had just left.

”Incredible,” she muttered.

Everything was absolutely, totally white and there were neither furniture, nor any doors as far as the eye could see. Everything was so uncolourful that she almost had to touch the walls, while walking, just to know they were still there.

She went on walking until the solid mass of a wall forced her to stop. She looked around to see if there were any sidedoors she had missed, but she saw none. She had come to a dead end…



Any other girl with her mind still fully intact would have taken the hint and gone back as fast as she could, but not Sarah, oh no. To her a wall where there should not be any just implicated that she had to look harder to see the opening.

There had to be a secret door somewhere; the only question was how to open it.

She followed the white plates that made out the walls, with her hands. Now and then she stopped to press down one or two plates, but without results.

She was almost ready to give up, when she heard a silent ”click” and a cool wind coming from behind her.

She counted the plates to make sure she would remember where she had put her hands and then she turned and walked through the door that she had opened.



”Now, why am I not surprised?” she muttered, as she walked through the new corridor, which was, of course, totally white, too.

This time the corridor didn’t lead her to a dead end, but to something that had to be some kind of a storage room.

”So, this is your idea of ‘just a storage room’ hah?”

Well, the nervous guide would probably have peed in his pants, should he have known where she was now.



The smile, that had shown in her face when she had thought of the nervous guide, froze, as she heard the sound of steps coming her way. Immediately, without thinking, she crouched behind some boxes and tried to make herself as small as possible.

”Please don’t see me! Please don’t see me!”

She repeated the words over and over again, like a mantra.

”What do you think you’re doing.”

The voice was sharp and demanding, a typical voice for someone who had been in the military too long. Terrified, Sarah held her breath. Had someone discovered her?! She was just making ready to come out of her hiding place, when she heard a second voice.

”What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking a break.” The second voice did not sound anything like the first one. It was low and feminine, even if it didn’t really seem to be coming from a woman.

”It looks like you’re lazy. That’s what it looks like.”

”Well Mr. General. I’m not one of your men who you can boss around with as you please and I haven’t had a break in five hours.”

”Hmpf…” The general didn’t sound pleased at all and Sarah almost laughed out loud in pure release. They had no idea she was there…

She couldn’t help herself; she just had to see what the two men who had spoken looked like. Slowly she moved one of the boxes, she had hid behind, a little to the left and then she held her breath. Had they noticed? But no, the two men that she could see now were still talking to each other and she had to try very hard to hear what they were saying.



”Any word about the transmit?”

”No, nothing. It may come tomorrow, today, in one week… We just don’t know. It would have been easier if we could just have one more scientist…”

”We’ve been through this before, Claus. This is high explosive stuff. Not even the President knows anything about it. We just can’t risk any leaks…”

”No I guess we can’t…

“Ah, well you’d better get on your break now, but I want you back in the radio-room in max half an hour. Understood?”

”Yes, sir!”

”All right then mister, carry on…”

”Sir, yes sir!”

The general watched as Claus walked away and so did Sarah. Then he turned around and went back to wherever he had come from.

She remained hidden a little while longer, just in case he would come back, but then her curiosity took over… What in the hell could they have been talking about?! She rose from her hiding place and sneaked in the direction from where Claus had come.

And found herself in a white corridor…



”Now why am I not surprised?” Sarah muttered as a new, solid and of course white wall stopped her. She tried to push the same spot on the wall as before, but with no results. She tried all the walls, and finally the last one did open.

Oops, she thought, just as the door opened. What if Claus had not been alone in the room…? The thought went through her mind at light-speed, but it was too late.



She took a deep breath as she gazed into the room and she could not hold back an astonished ”wow” when she walked in. It was like computer-heaven. Everywhere she looked there were monitors and computer-screens, blinking lamps and buttons.



Sarah felt a strange chill run though her veins. She must have lost her mind. Here she was, in a secret room, somewhere in a military-base. And she had just been listening to a mysterious and highly confidential conversation about some kind of a transmission, so secret that not even the President knew about it. She must be crazy.



Just as she had persuaded herself to go look for her classmates and forget everything about this ‘little’ incident, the lamps went off. And she found herself staring at one of the biggest screens; reading a message, she just couldn’t believe.



”This is worldgroup to worldnation. We have found the answers required for stage two.”

”Roger that worldgroup. Maintain radio-silence ‘til further notice.”

”Negative, worldnation. This is a code blue situation.”

”This is not a secure line. Repeat; this is not a secure line. Maintain radio-silence.”

”Negative worldnation, this is now a code red situation. I repeat; this is a code red situation.”

”Roger that worldgroup. We’re standing by…”

”All right, worldnation. This is our situation: The chameleons are on the move. Repeat; chameleons are on the move. Estimated arrival for bugs to queenseye 0.5 minutes and counting. This is our last transmit.”

”Copy that worldgroup. Let’s hear the numbers…”



……



”Numbers following… Accuracy 99, 8 %.”

”1.As predicted the chameleons do have a hiding-place up in the north. They’ve been there for generations (see Valkyrias). Probability 98.7 %.

2.Probability natives in on it: 98.0 %.

3.Probability nations in on it: 96.7 %

4.Probability chameleons hostile: 78.99 %”



…..



END TRANSMIT



Oh my, she was really in over her head this time. Sarah exhaled when she felt her lungs aching for fresh air. She had held her breath without noticing. Her eyes did not leave the big screen for a minute as the glowing letters slowly faded away.

”God, what a mess,” she muttered.

There was no doubt about it: she had just been witnessing the first real proof that they were not alone in the universe and that the aliens might be hostile and she could not tell anyone about it.

Hell, if someone had told her that there were aliens trying to conquer earth she would probably have called a mental hospital herself, thinking she was doing the poor bastard a favour.



Suddenly, she could hear voices coming from outside, in the corridor. Sarah looked around in panic, but there was no place to hide. She turned around just in time to see the door open…

In, came first the man she could recognise as Claus and just seconds behind him: the general. As soon as they saw her they both stopped, like they had been struck by lightning. She just stood there, passive. Waiting for one of them to make the first move. She was caught, now all she could do was behave and hope for the best.



”Who the hell are you and what the fuck are you doing here?!!!!”

She took a step back, shocked by the tone of the voice. This was not going to be easy.

“Eh, hm… I’m lost…?”

The general looked at her with disgust and then turned his eyes towards Claus.

“How could this happen?”

Claus tried to answer but the general silenced him with a gesture and continued:

“Never mind, but be sure that you’ll never take a break again, as long as I’m still alive and breathing.”

His eyes turned to Sarah again.

“Well miss nosy, you’ve just seen something that wasn’t meant for your eyes… What do you think we should do with you.” His smile was the smile of a beast ready to attack and his eyes were cold.

“ Well,” she laughed nervously. “I don’t know… Let me go?”

He laughed, a mean and evil laughter.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She tried to smile, but all she could manage was a scared grimace…



“I’m just a kid. I won’t tell anyone. Promise.” Boy was she desperate, that lame performance wouldn’t trick anyone, she thought with a self-deprecating smile.

Sarah was absolutely right, before she had even noticed what had happened, two big guards had entered the room and they were now holding both her arms in a firm grip.

“Now, my little friend we’re going to headquarters for a little chat, you and I.”

The general laughed again. That kind of laugh you would expect to hear in a bad horror-movie.

“Yes, we’ll have a nice talk… a real nice talk.”

Terrified, she looked at her captures. She didn’t have a chance…



Out in the public corridor, the guards let go of her arms, but one of them showed her his gun to assure her that any try to escape would be not just futile, but deadly too. Sarah gave up a deep sigh and started to massage her arms while thinking franticly: What to do? What to do?

They had almost reached the headquarters when they met a civilian tourist and Sarah got a brilliant idea. When the tourist was as close as two feet away, she started speaking with a loud voice:

“Thank you very much for showing me the way gentlemen. I’m sure I’ll manage on my own, now.”

Yes it worked; she had gotten the tourist’s attention now. It was time to put on the real performance.



“It was very nice of you to follow me all the way… Really, it was, but now I think I’ll just tag along with this gentleman over here.”

The general saw what was coming, but it was too late. The tourist, a young man about twenty-five years old had already turned around and was now watching her with interest. She could see the anger in her captor’s eyes and she smiled victoriously. She and the general both knew there was nothing he could do, not if he didn’t want to kill two civilians in a public place…



Slowly she walked towards the young tourist and took his arm.

“You’ll show me the way outa here, won’t you?”

The guy smiled embarrassed and she thought she was finally safe when he shocked her with his words:

“I’d really like to miss, but I’ve just arrived and I haven’t seen everything I wanted to see yet. But you’re welcome to join me. If you’d like…?”

She took a deep breath, a slight miscalculation, but one that could prove to be deadly. She couldn’t go with him. The general and his men would try to catch her first chance they got… She had to get out of there, right away. Ah, well. There was nothing she could do about her chances anymore. This was the only one she would get. Small as it was she had to take it. If she started running now, maybe she would be outside before her enemies were. She gave the tourist a quick smile and said:

“I’m sorry. I have to get home, but why don’t you ask these” she nodded toward her captivates “gentlemen to show you around. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind at all.”



Before either the general or the tourist had time to answer, she was already on the move. Running as fast as she could, following the exit-signs. Praying she would make it home alive.



She had almost reached the door marked exit when she heard running steps coming from behind.

Sarah looked around desperately to see if there were any sign of a civilian or anyone who might be able to help her, but the hall was all empty, the only people being the ones she did not want to face. There was no where left to run. She did not have a chance. Better surrender voluntarily than to be forced by violence. With a sigh she stopped and slowly turned around…

And everything went black…





~







“Sarah… Sarah dear, wake up!”

The soft, low voice enticed her back from the land of dreams and slowly she returned to consciousness. What had happened, had they shot her? She looked up, ready to meet the face of a doctor or a nurse, scared it would be something else, perhaps an alien.

But the eyes of the face she met were not the ones of the general or a monster. They were the eyes of someone she knew very well.

“Good morning, mom.”

She smiled…

“Well good morning to you too, sleepyhead. Are you gonna lie there all day? You’re going to the new military-base, you know.”

Sarah smiled and nodded….





……..



“What’s that?”

Sarah’s eyes followed to where the finger had pointed, but then she looked back to the guide. For a moment she thought she had seen something draw over his face…

“That’s just a storage room.”

Nah, it was probably nothing, she thought and they continued their walk through the absolutely white corridor…



The End.

Poem, I Apologize for Being Me...

...I just don't know who else to be.

Sometimes I look into your expression,
in those few unguarded moments,
and I know that somehow, I’m hurting you.
I sit down by your side,
not close enough to touch you,
but close enough for you,
if you need me.
As soon as you ask me to,
I’ll be there,
pulling you into my arms,
telling you that everything
will be alright.
You believe me, don’t you?
Of course you do,
I have such kind eyes.

But sometimes, well most oftentimes,
I simply let it all go;
let it roll away like water, let the seconds flow.
I don’t ask you what’s the matter,
because I don’t want to know.
And I look you straight into your eyes
and pretend I’m blinder than anyone.
Isn’t that just a perfect way to be?
Of course you can’t fault me
for not being perfect
and you know I never will be.
Not perfect for you, just perfect in the mind,
like a diamond cut from ice, flawless for all time.
But not like humans are.

Sometimes that’s how you look at me -
as if I’m something other than human.
And hell -who am I to contradict that verdict?
At least humans are imperfect by nature.
But you look at me for answers,
for making it all alright.
Not because I’m human, but because I know how to be.

Some Laws of Murphy for Your Amusement

lol. Came up with most of them myself, I think (It's hard to know with so many of them floating aroud the place. ;-) ) Enjoy!


*If you have taken every possible and impossible way of things going wrong into consideration and have backup and triple backup plans for every thing of course people will think you crazy, you will develop an ulcer and nothing will go wrong.

*When you have finally conceded the point that you are simply being paranoid and have started to relax the men in black will come and get you.

*If you have no life and are finally invited to a party, the party will be on the one night of the whole month when you actually have prior engagements you can’t get out of.

*If you have spent the day tutoring others on something, the moment the ’boss/teacher/other important person to impress’ gets around to check up on you, you have just had a meltdown and somehow, for the very first time, managed to fuck up what you previously could do so well.

*When you are joking, people will take you seriously. When you’re being serious -no one will believe you.

*The probability of the hottest guy/girl in the place actually striking up a conversation with you will be in direct proportion to how close it is to the time when you have to leave.

*If the hottest guy/girl you’ve ever seen asks you for a light, you’re a non smoker and don’t have one. You’re trying to quit, are having the shakes and snap at them. Your lighter just doesn’t seem to work no matter how cool you try to look while you click it again and again and a-fucking-gain!

*The best looking guys are always gay. The best looking girls are always taken.

*If you are never sick or ill, the chances of you catching a nasty cold or other unfortunate illness will drastically increase in proportion to how important it is for you to stay fit at just that moment.

*If you’re not one for gossip, but for once have said something bad about someone else the person you are talking about will be standing directly behind you.

*If you think you’re hot stuff, you’ll hear a rumor about what people REALLY think about you.
However if you think you suck you will immediately hear the opposite, but you will of course not believe it.

*Negative comments will always stay with you after you have forgotten the positive ones.

*If you act confident to cover how shy you are people will respect you too much to ask to hang with you. Of course if you act confident simply because you are, people will think that it’s just a mask and try and coddle you.

*If something in the back of your mind nagged you to do something, but you ignored that voice you will soon find out that you should have listened. If listening prompted you to bring something very heavy for a 10 mile hike you will never need that something and will have forgotten the thing you did need on the kitchen counter.

*Your commanding officer will always catch you napping.

*If you’re a model citizen and do something uncharacteristically illegal/stupid the law will come down on you with a vengeance to set an example. If you’re a hardened criminal you will get away with murder.

*If you’re a blushing virgin on a dare who tries to pick up a hooker, said hooker will be a vice cop.

*The person with a flag on their shirt in a clashing of racism/anti racism demonstration parties that you have summarily dressed down for five minutes for being a neo nazi will in fact be the chairman of the anti racism organization from across town.

*The person who asked you to hold the elevator whom you ignored because you were stressed out about your upcoming job interview will be the head of the company and the one performing the interview. Said head of the company will also be late to that interview because they had to grab the next elevator which got stuck halfway to the office.

*Adaptation of Murphy’s first rule: Anything that can go wrong will go wrong and at the most importunate time. Anything that can not go wrong will still go wrong just to spite you.

Text, Walkabout

Written about one of my travels. This one was inspired by a walk down the Málaga streets. To know more about this city, go to malaga.com

Walkabout

The Aborigines say that when all seems pointless and you’ve lost your way, you must start to walk and keep on walking until you meet yourself. Then you will be lost no more.
I’m paraphrasing of course, but the idea is a solid one. Just keep on walking until you find yourself again, as the world is round you always come back to the beginning and as the wheel turns…
Well, the imagery is timeless even if it’s started to become cliché in this day and age. Humans, always so swift to disregard the truth if for no other reason than that it has been said too often. Like that somehow makes it less true.
I’ve been walking for a long while now and I’ve caught glances of myself from time to time, but still it’s not close enough. This road that I find myself on, in this gods forsaken city spreads out like hot, simmering coals and ashes before me as I go. The air shimmering with moisture and light, mirages dancing just to the side of my vision where I can’t fully interpret what they mean. It’s a damn hot day.
This city I find myself in is an old one, but the stories I see around me are all of contemporary people. It’s one of those places where time reinvents itself at every turn. Reminding you that though history might be intangible and therefore exciting it’s still just the same old stories about the same old people, only a bit dustier. Well, a mite bit dustier, this town has never been very clean I do not think. It’d be hard with the south winds bringing sand all the way from Sahara on a spectacularly windy day.
Speaking of sand, the beach looks unusually beckoning today.
I think I’ll go fetch a towel. Maybe I’ll find myself in the waves.
Or maybe I’ll just forget I should be looking.
Some say that that’s when I’ll finally find what I’m looking for. It’s as good an idea as any and as I said:
It’s a damn hot day…

Poem, Guardian at the Gate

He stands where the white willows
weep for the crimson stains,
on ground that will forever be covered
with blood of the innocent ones.

~red flowers that never will fail~

Where the last phoenix swings from her tree
and sings her final serenade,
that shall never be heard by a living ear,
before she bursts into flame.

~a fire that can warm any heart~

He stands where the shadows of yester-night
play catch with the sun-rays of tomorrow,
where time bends on its axis
and what is will soon come again.

~ages pass with the blink of an eye~

And as the silvery water of eternity
joyfully pass him on its way to nowhere,
the guardian smiles at his kingdom,
and another fallen enters his world.

~to finally have peace once again~

Poems, a bunch of them, from my dusty shelves.

Was going through some old stuff and found my old poetry. Thought I'd post them, who knows, someone might even like it. ;-)

1.

It’s raining,
the sky is dark
My hands are cold,
but inside
my blood is boiling
My heart beats in the silence
The beats become a melody
a lullaby of solitude
Night falls,
but I know
that the sun will come again

*

2.

The raindrop, glittering
in the first rays of dawn
Tears of a god
over the shattered Earth

*

3.

Somewhere up ahead
I can hear
the larks singing
I can imagine
the most beautiful things
There…
behind the walls
where I cannot see
Here everything is gray
A million colors, but still…
only gray
Poring laughter
yet only…
sighs
No crying, but
heavy tears
behind tightly shuttered eyelids
But I will
go there
I will venture behind the walls
and leave this grimy reality
for the mind’s eternity

*

4.

It’s raining again
Will it ever stop
this constant rain?
I’m freezing again
The cold winds of the North
storm in my heart
Soon it will be so cold
that my blood
might never melt again
Once again my tears have stopped running
My tears have dried up…again

*

5.

The heart shatters in a reflection
Souls die as no one speaks
In eyes of hopelessness such a sad mist
Who wants the sad little babe?
Its tapestry of life does fade
Quiet life, says not a word
Thinning thread is slowly weaving
The hours wait most patiently
Soon the weave has been spun over
Death by hair has been won over

*

6.

Forget the world
Silence the singing
Dry the tears
Let the fire die
Whisper words
so long ago hidden
Put the Earth to sleep
Truth is unbidden
Under stars the souls die out
Under moon the birds fall asleep
Let them be
and let it be so

*

7.

Eyes of glass stare out into the dark
Blind they still see more than most
Cold tears of frozen glass
drip slowly on the dream of life
Once, these eyes were alive too,
but for every day the surface hardened
Don’t want to see…
Ghastly humans
Dead eyes watch
the blood that stains the hands
of the living

Poem, At the End

At the End

Seek me,
where the great falls
give water to each thirsty soul.
Where the brilliant light
of the loving,
gives each love
a chance to prevail.

Seek me,
where the lion
knows each and every lamb.
Where the dust
is a sandy beach,
and every footstep
is in itself divine.

Seek me,
in the country
where only bright shadows fall.
Where the morning
is golden
and the night
is far more forgiving.

There I will wait,
till every star has fallen,
and the mighty sun has long ago
swallowed the Earth.
Come there are seek me,
when your spirit is weary.
And I’ll be the rest
for your tiring heart.

Text, The Price You Pay

Regular people seldom understand the price paid for greatness. It’s one of those things that you logically know about, but don’t actually know or believe. And that’s really as it should be because if you knew, really knew about the prices paid by people for their greatness you wouldn’t envy them so much anymore, if at all. And that, believe it or not, would take away some of their shine. People are golden as much because we see them that way as because of what they actually do. Of course people can be great without being seen as such, but they won’t have the greatness.

Although great people are golden for a reason. Much of that shine is only surface deep. Though their ideas can be brilliant, their compassion, their love for the world and so on there is much darkness inside the golden ones. It’s one of those balance issues with how the world works. For something to shine on the outside it needs perhaps to be dull on the inside or extremely sensitive, be extremely hard or frail or have a history of roughness. Great people have this balance in their life. Constantly in one way or another. For many it’s a past that keeps them up at night or irrational fears about being a fake. Others have trouble letting people inside, keeping lovers and friends close. Others still are so afraid of failure that they can’t enjoy for a minute what they have for fear it will slip between their fingers. And of course there are those who just work too hard to ever be able to fully enjoy life, always working for a better part, a better thing, a better world.

They say the brighter the light, the shorter the flame burns. This is also true in some cases. But as we all are different people, so we all pay a different price for the life we lead, be it great or not so great. It’s strange really how few people would ever recognize their own greatness if they saw it in the mirror. Which they do, every day. But it’s so easy to believe everything bad that’s ever said about us, to us, around us. We as people have a tendency to soak everything negative up like a sponge and once it’s inside us. It stays there. We often starve for affection or recognition and we soak that up as well, but strangely enough it never gets a hold on us quite as good as the bad stuff. It takes a lot of work or much innocence to be able to believe the good things people tell us or just to enjoy the good things that happens to us, the good things that we see or experience.

That’s why it’s so important when looking at great people to remember that even a diamond was once a piece of coal and to end up a diamond it would have had to endure incredible pressure under a long time. That’s a good thing to remember about all people you meet actually. We all have had our difficulties and we are all in one way or another on our way from coal to diamonds with all of the tempering of our souls that comes with it. So be gentle with your fellow man. Too much pressure and the cracks might go deeper than time can mend.

Poem, Springtime Blue

Springtime Blue


A spring like many a springtime before,
at the bluest hour of the bluest day.
A young woman’s tears come to the fore;
they seem to be there to stay.

The silence sings her a soft lullaby,
where she sits upon a moss clad stone.
Shoulders slumped with burden, why?
She seems weary, yes, tired to the bone.

A cause for her trouble there must be,
and there is, hidden deep in her mind.
She has the power to hear and to see,
secrets that time and space would bind.

Truth, she carries her secrets well,
but still the tears fall down unbidden.
For her knowledge is the kind of hell
that traps you in what’s not left hidden.

She loves to hear the gentle fall of rain,
for ’tis the same water now that in the past,
fell, on body heated by love’s lusty pain.
Love that she knew could never last.

So, she wanders lost in time’s great sea,
despite the knowledge in her soul.
Seeking what she knows peace to be,
but the Fates will not make her whole.

Cursed is she to always wander ‘round,
though she does not know her crime.
She remains lonely, even in a crowd.
Stays, only for a short moment in time.

Her power is one that can hurt as it heals,
but she fights for what she believes in.
Too well does she know the pain fate deals,
but she won’t plead, as pride is her sin.

She hasn’t broken and she never will;
nothing can beat her fire within.
Her sword never falters or misses a kill;
whatever the sacrifice she will win.

But in this hour, in this special place,
she calls for help to alleviate her fears.
Her eyes search through time and space,
through deserts and her falling tears.

-Adored one, beloved, forever my love,
where to has the darkness banned you?
In a grieving eternity I’ve waited, my love,
and longer still, in my search for you.

Where art thou now, half of my soul?
Do we both hear the same stars’ song?
Without each other, neither one  is whole.
Every night’s as an eternity’s long.

Do you recall the oath you gave me?
I remember every single uttered word.
My heart is cold like the desert I see.
The feelings are calling, have you heard?

The woman’s golden locks are shifting
moved by an icy gust of air.
Her searching mind stops drifting,
as the wind’s howling turns from despair.

Her eyes, they glitter with a brilliant smile,
as fog moves swiftly in over the moor.
The spring world’s mesmerized all the while,
by sudden snowflakes making war.

Her eyes are locked in the distance
and 'round her the world freezes slowly.
Out on the moor she sees a mirage dance
and, paving the way, the snow falls lowly

Puzzling, the moment, for those not in the know,
but her eyes can see beyond the veil.
And behind the fog, born of traitorous snow,
waits the one that she needs to heal.

So the threads of cold thin before her eyes;
revealing that which she’s waited so long for.
The man she loved under those once upon skies,
the one she’s bound to by magic and lore.

She recalls the strength in their loving still,
all those glorious nights of their youth.
And in his bearing she can plainly read his will -
his feelings are the same then, forsooth.

On the cold moor, where two worlds collide,
they trade whispers and vows of forever.
Despair and love, so strong on each side,
and renewed hope from this time together.

But the time the veil can be parted is not long
and before they know it the end is in sigh.t
No time for goodbyes, as the fog rolls in strong
and spells away that midwinter night.

Now, the snow is melted from this magical place,
which they both left those eons ago.
But as I stand here, I still remember his face
and the life that I cherished so.

For I’ve lived thousands of lives since that life,
but still I can not let him go.