Asta di Pesca

push!

Asta — Thu, 07 Apr 2011 12:14:07 +0000

respect has no idea of the impact he has. the content, the satisfaction gained from respect is both limitless and unfathomable. the attraction is not unfounded, but almost disrespectful. time has no idea. time is barely himself these days and passion has gone off for a wander and is dreaming of things that might be. there are no answers to anything that respect, passion, innuendo and humour can find – just a to do list. respect seems to be adding more and more to the list, and passion is starting to wonder if she’s up for the challenge – probably why she is dreaming so much.

dreaming days when time finally notices that passion is distracted, and days where respect takes more notice than he should.

discontent / in contempt

Asta — Sun, 16 May 2010 12:00:51 +0000

taking the brunt of the discontent of others leaves me feeling like I’ve nothing left to give, nothing left to lose.

things hurt and shouldn’t.

Asta — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 21:54:00 +0000

there are things in the closet that shouldn’t be there. skeletons, and too many of them, are rattling and clunking and shaking and screaming.. their screams can only be heard by the chosen one, and the one has moved on and doesn’t want to hear it any more. the one now gone, her companions have also deserted the closet, and leave us with nothing to support the main event. ethics, compassion and morals sit on the floor, waiting for desire, interest and joy to return. no one knows where they went, nor even noticed when they left. time noticed.. but he won’t let the secret slip – time is a tricky creature and has no intention of letting any one into the game he plays.

there is a clue, it’s hiding under the bed. it’s been there so long it is covered in the dust that time leaves behind. time himself left the clue, and is waiting for someone to notice. the main event is coming – compassion can feel it, ethics agrees it should be, and morals just simply believes. but when left with nothing but feelings, ideas and belief, you can still see the same old scratch marks, still bleeding under the spotlights. there is a hideous empty feeling that is gaining strength and power over us all.

power loves playing time’s game – strategy is his forte, but the question is, does strength have enough will to beat time at his own game?

wherefore

Asta — Mon, 02 Oct 2006 22:31:00 +0000

living a life excluded, occluded, sanitized, demoralized left me in a black hole of self-doubt with a haze of non-recognition.

A day, a day, a day is all i ask to let me feel, let me see it is real, there is reason for being, for wanting, for knowing.

trapped, locked away, cramped into the cave and hidden away. she’s not really here. hide her in the back room so it doesn’t seem so real. like a dirty little secret hiding in the closet…

reality and fantasy and never the twain shall meet.

much like (one hopes) history and future. what’s the forecast? can’t see clearly enough to tell yet. *shrug* “i dunno” is all the answer i get for that.

storms are brewing though and while the first of the season was met by preventative reaction, we shall see if the warning was heeded.

reaction precludes action? or relapse? who knows? time knows. but he never tells you until it’s time.

transformation

Asta — Sat, 25 Feb 2006 20:35:00 +0000

Things and people wonder why I am what I am, and I don’t even really know the answer to that one. I leave the past behind these days, though, reading over the past, it seems I never really used to. I must have got over it somewhere along the line. I wish I knew when, it would make things easier in a way, though I wonder if it relly would. I don’t know. There’s a lot I don’t know. But I know this. I know I live, I know I love, I know I care, and I know I am what I am because of the things I have been through, and the things I have been. I don’t think I want to go back anymore. I am getting to the point where I like the fact that I have moved on. I know the past is there, but it does not bother me so much anymore.

No longer do I wander listless naked and profane.
No longer do I despair over things lingering and passing.
No longer do I notice the trails of blood and scratch marks that never but always heal.

Transformation.

I morph.
I grow.
I heal.
I look.
I live.
I love.

Letting one go astray.

Asta — Mon, 10 Oct 2005 21:07:00 +0000

Losing control and letting things go means that there are things you cannot control and it seems that when you let one go, all manner of things go as well. Not by chance, but by their own design. They watch the others enjoying their freedom and demand it too. I want what you have. I want I want I want. It’s all I hear all day and yet the things I want are not listened to. Ignored, isolated, bypassed and remaining behind to watch the others go out to play. There are things I want, there are things I do not want. These things are manifest, tangible and malleable, yet the chances of them being manipulated into reality seem to diminish day by day. Yet another fell by the wayside today, and all I can do is watch it fall and whisper my own good-byes. Farewell, my sweet, I shall miss the hope you brought to my life.

chance has a lot to answer for..

Asta — Thu, 14 Oct 2004 22:22:00 +0000

like leaving things to slip away while others do their thing and i’m left wandering, wondering and pondering the things i’ve let get away, get the better of me and get left behind. leaving it all up to chance is not a happy success story all the time but it’s often the only thing i can do with a lot of these things. chance has been good to me at times, and chance will do it again someday, but lately i’ve been let down and left to battle it all alone. even chance seemed to leave me. leave me fighting to keep hold of the few things i can manage to keep up with, having to let the rest go whilst i struggle. i’ve only got so many hands, and i’m not good at juggling. tired, but somehow stronger is what i’ve become because of this.

lingering wonderings leaving

Asta — Tue, 07 Sep 2004 11:15:00 +0000

Time is inconsequential on a day where sense and nonsense collide & intermingle with the radical & the logical. history repeats in a meaningful way which proves to me that I have moved on, ready for the next big thing. I have found that the clues left seem increasingly ambiguous enough to leave me not caring about wondering any more. What will be, will be & there will be enough to share when the time comes, so I’m not fretting about the will to live, or the lack of it. There’s more to be said, but you don’t understand this so far. Adieu.

Protected: shiny red absurdities and desires…

Asta — Mon, 12 Apr 2004 17:46:00 +0000

you should heed your own words, dearest one.

Asta — Sun, 07 Mar 2004 17:40:00 +0000

don’t ever, ever, ever tell me i’m nothing. you won’t like the reaction you get. yes, he said, you have no idea how nasty she can be. and he’s oh-so-right. he knows, but he still likes to play with fire whilst dancing along that fine line. i’m so close to telling him this, but it’s almost more fun letting him go, just to see how far he’ll take it.

“if you don’t get what you need, you won’t stay”. and that’s so true. why stick around hoping against hope for the impossible? i’ve never been one to bang my head against the wall for very long, and i’m getting so bored with it now…