Monday, May 29, 2017
Thus the father's requiem obsession has passed to his daughter
Lacrimosa dies illa,
qua resurget ex favilla
judicandus homo reus:
Huic ergo parce Deus.
Pie Jesu Domine,
Dona eis requiem.
a0z0ra @ 8:03 PM  |
To absolutely nothing
a0z0ra @ 8:39 AM  |
Saturday, May 06, 2017
Heed! Beloved! This is Love:
To understand without being understood
To listen without being listened
To attend without being attended
To give without receiving in return
Like the stream that moves downward, the love knows where she wants to go, let her flow!
What are we? Mere creatures, slaves of desires, clothed in weakness and insecurities. But Love! Love is strong, she exists by her own will, she has a purpose. Mere vessels, aren't we? Let her greet her beloved, then let her fly.
a0z0ra @ 7:06 AM  |
Monday, April 17, 2017
Like moth to a flame
Like moth to a flame, the lover is drawn to the beloved.
The love, a sacrifice to the altar of the cruelest Lord, never to be returned, never to be known.
But warrior has to fight, singer has to sing, and lover has to love.
a0z0ra @ 12:07 AM  |
Monday, April 10, 2017
You've gotten better at this!
My guardian angel pat me in the back, for suffering a pretty big sad episode with flying colors.
It is time, isn't it? Nothing last forever, but the memory of that particular time and space, forever engraved, etched so deep and I will drag it to my eternal sleep.
How I now wish to believe in reincarnation, so we can rewind, fixed the bug! Recompile!
a0z0ra @ 10:45 PM  |
Sunday, March 12, 2017
Rolling with it
It's pretty funny, I thought once I get to a certain age, I will lose all anxieties and insecurities. I did, for a while, and somehow lately I recognize that the demon is back with full force.
The difference this time around is I'm accepting my demon so much and just go forward with it. He is an old adversary, I know him very well, he will be gone soon.
a0z0ra @ 1:39 PM  |
The universe always is a cruel bastard and you have to make do, not to take it too seriously and be creative. Bonus if somehow we can joke around while being pestered.
Sunday, February 12, 2017
We the Chinese, grit is inside our cursed, collective souls as red is the color of blood.
Survive, work hard, keep pushing. Rest is for the weak.
a0z0ra @ 11:16 PM  |
Thursday, February 09, 2017
Rat on a ring
Wheels on the bus
Cat in a hat
Rat on a ring
Heart on a sleeve
Beats on a drum
Raindrops on the ground
Sun in the sky
Messages from the queue
Data on the cloud
System on the mind
System on the heart
System on the soul
Engineering all around
Rat on a ring
a0z0ra @ 10:15 PM  |
Saturday, February 04, 2017
If you say what a ton of mess you are, in life, in love, in everything!
I say How lovely!
What a lovely mess you are, what a lovely, lovely mess
a0z0ra @ 7:59 AM  |
Thursday, January 26, 2017
The man who loves rain
Thus this man who loves rain, makes one wonder!
The rain is a cruel, cruel creation the Lord use to punish us lowly beings. Remember the Ark? Lightning very very frightening and Galileo Galileo Beelzebub the Satan has turn this lament into unrecognizable blubber. LOL.
But digressions, we need them! Because he is wonderful, very wonderful. Pray for strength, pray for sustenance, pray for amunition, dear heart. For the battle you must win!
a0z0ra @ 10:07 PM  |
Do you know the way to San Diego?
Do you know the way to San Diego? That beautiful, beautiful city.
I've been away too long from you, that treacherous beaches, stealing hearts, breaking dreams, leaving souls craving more more more of those sandy imprints on your feet, saltiness of the air, the sunset glows, golden sky, then what's left of the magical day, haunting sounds of waves after waves after waves.
I miss you, yet I know it's only been one fall or winter, but come soon o summer. This rainy season is not you! I refuse.
a0z0ra @ 9:47 PM  |
Sunday, January 22, 2017
It probably is a dream
It probably is a dream, an illusion, a make believe that the sun decides to pay me a visit. The lonely soul tricks me into making the art into a living being.
The art exist only to laugh at me, to destroy what is left of my fragmented illusion. But this too shall pass.
a0z0ra @ 7:01 PM  |