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The Original Hipster

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Oh Helen~!

Betrayal

Tears of betrayal in my eyes
Never standing by me
You left me in the darkest pain
Siding with the masses
Laughing at my dreams

Standing on the highest mountain
You are only on a hill
Living within your own delusion
Practicing your own morality
Preaching out your hypocrisy

Once trusted
No longer
Once a part of me
Now I tear away
Because those who stand by you will surely fall and turn towards the crowd
Those who say they care are living out empty jeers

Does it hurt?
Of course! But then again, how much do I care for someone who doesn’t care for me

You thought you found your truth
You thought you found your religion
But grace is love and love is trust
And trust is gold

Religion is not man or masses
But stepping away from a crowd of hate
Siding with the marginalized and extending grace
Your grace is shallow and so is your love
Because you havent spoken to me since that day your broke my trust

You I don’t need
Especially your empty words
But Please understand this – we all need the sinner’s prayer
Know that we are called to love unconditionally
Know that forgiveness is key

And although you mean nothing
The wound hasn’t healed
It will leave a forever scar that will mark the betrayal
So it’s not that I cannot forgive
It’s just that I will never forget
Because whenever I look down I’ll hear the things you said.

Annie Hall

“Photography’s interesting, ’cause, you know, it’s-it’s a new art form, and a, uh, a set of aesthetic criteria have not emerged yet.”

“Aesthetic criteria?  You mean, whether it’s, uh, good photo or not?”

“The-the medium enters in as a condition of the art form itself.  That’s-”

“Well, well, I … to me-I … I mean, it’s-it’s-it’s all instinctive, you know.  I mean, I just try to uh, feel it, you know?  I try to get a sense of it and not think about it so much.”

Untitled

What is a dream other than it is apart from reality?
What is the urge that forces us to go within and expresses out?
What is this longing for what is to come?
A better and prettier picture of what we see.
What is this fire that dims and then grows brightly, extinguishes, but not quite.

How to climb the biggest mountain?
Swim across the frozen river?
Dive deep into the ocean?
Soar across the sky?

Searching and longing, the eyes strain to see farther and longer into the distance
For a path, opportunity or someone.

Green are the hills, low are the valley
The Earth is wide and fields far.

I build a house on top of a hill that looks across the fields
No longer soaring to find that golden star
Pink are my bricks, sturdy is my straw roof
Puff, puff, goes the smoke through the chimney

Puff puff, puff puff goes my dream

So this is Zabrina…

In quiet large steps she tip-toes towards you
Not wanting to disturb but coming down in the form of a fairy
Bearing gifts of peace, laughter and wisdom
She guides and she acknowledges
She gives hope and freedom
Even when the recipes of life fails her, taking the ingredients, she bakes a sweet lopsided banana kiwi cake with rainbow icing
This is Zabrina, a goddess of peace and wisdom
A statute of faith, truth and justice
A generous soul, a heart of a mother
This is Zabrina

So this is Tara…

Like an oven filled with freshly-made gingerbread cookies is Tara.
Warm, loving and full of hugs
Her arms wrap around you like a tight duvet
Safe and secure in her arms you can whisper your secrets into her ear
Funny things, small thing and even the dark things are taken in as she stroke your hair
This is Tara
With a smile, a small shake of her head she approves of you
Because you are well-made in His sight
Her prayers are words of gold and she draws in all whom she knows
The warm oven which is the hearth of the home is Tara.