I am in love with your soul not your body. Your temperament is what lures me into you. Your deep soothing voice is what I crave for and your warmth is what I covet. When you smile at me it seems as if the whole world is mine. When our eyes exchange looks it feels as if everything has paused and belongs right in its place. Your mesmerising oceanic eyes have locked themselves in my mind and only thoughts about you mingle in my head. These feeling I have for you are stronger than just admiration, I think I am falling for you
hard, like the falling of stars.
There were no windows. Only--one, two--five seats; four lined up on the long side of the rectangular prism and one sitting opposite. The first noticeable thing was the utter lack of motion. It did not feel like any sort of future tech, it felt like the back of a truck. It was barren, smooth, it appeared as dirt brown walls in the lack of light, with sharp corners at the vertexes; but where was the motion? Those only objects within the box where the chairs, the only occupants were those sitting within them, and me; within the lonely chair.
The others were asleep. Three I knew: John, Dean, and Sam. The fourth I didn't, sitting to the far right. She was some young excitable girl, just kinda tagged along; I never knew her name. I sat there, harness pulled taught, in the groggy state that occurs after being woken from a deep sleep. I didn't have time to register any sort of fear or darker thoughts. I was still mystified at the lack of motion and the then growing presence of complete silence.
Tears rolled down, wetting every part of her cheek. Her eyes pleaded for Succor and help, albeit that she knew no one was coming. There was only darkness as her own demons haunted and strangled her. She was suffocating. In the pain of abandonment she almost forgot how to feel. She desired amnesia so that all this suffering could fade away, fade and allow memories of laughter to soothe her, to restore peace in her life.
Hollywood is the hope of social evolution, the chance to speak to the brain in the language of dreams - picture and emotion; for that is the primary substrate of thought. When we add that to words that inspire positive brain chemistry and enable more love and empathy around the globe - then we we all win.
Emotional indifference is the opposite of love, the opposite of what the core of every faith and secular humanitarians call for. Thus, since our daily choices build who we are as individuals and community members, the capitalistic system with necessary emotional indifference to the poorest on Earth, is incompatible with our ongoing social evolution. Everyone matters, quality of life matters, children everywhere matter more than an invented system that was born in barbaric times.
GDP is called gross domestic product for a reason; it is "Gross." It's gross to measure success by how much gasoline is sold, or how much money young mothers earn as they are separated from their babies. Of course, the "daycare" where kids go to scream and be soothed and diaper changed right before pick up time earns money too. It is gross to measure success by how much big pharma makes from illness in a stressed out high cortisol society. It is gross to measure success in sugar and fat sales when the nation is suffering more obesity. It is gross to measure success in the revenue from casinos and from sales of booze to alcoholics. It is gross to measure success in production of items that are destined for landfill or ocean pollution that are not needed - pollution when produced, sold via vulture advertising that does psychological harm and then becoming pollution (the packaging, the product and the transportation). The entire system is governed and perpetuated by lunatics in suits. Let's be clear that Gross Domestic product is aptly named and success is measured in smiles, in healthy children and families, in clean water, air and land.
They were more like shadows than physical beings - lightly resembling humans-shape wise, but only black smoke. Each form rippled whenever it moved like disturbed water. The only way I knew they were looking at me was the white eyes with a slight blue hue that stood out against the darkness.
A royal crown sits upon his head like a boat stuck on a stream in one place. It's like it's entangled in the roots of his hair, like it's apart of him. In the shower, at work, in front of everyone. It's going to be there for ever and ever. But who cares? I like it that way.
When I open my eyes and gaze at the quivering light from beneath the heavy lust of trees I find myself lost again. All the footprints that could have lead home are now smudged in the mud. My feet can still sense the moist in the grass which seems to be now parched again.The sweet fragrance of wet soil provides utmost pleasure to my nostrils. It feels as if it was just yesterday when Anna and I use to come out here and play. The echoes of our childhood laughter still surround the forest like swarm of bees around their nest.