✍🏻 Remorse

it’s really relentless

Remorse -- red-eyed
Bloodied knuckles & a cowardly lover’s letter, expressing his departing…

  Red-eyed and deadened heart
  endless regret and emptiness
  my time with you was divinity defined
  oh for the past: our perfect partnership
  resting on one another after amore
  searching each other’s open books
  everything was to look forward to


I'm sorry
I’m so deeply sorry
I'm so deeply sorry
I’m so truly sorry
I'm so truly sorry
I’m so sincerely sorry
I'm so sincerely sorry
I’m so totally and wholeheartedly sorry
I'm so totally and wholeheartedly  sorry
I regret my stupidity.
I regret my stupidity.
I’m more sorry than ever before.

✍🏻 I miss you

way, ‘way’ beyond belief

Revenge
bloodied knuckles & a cowardly lover’s letter, expressing his departing…

Limitless Infinity

   6 I look but I don’t see
  I hear but don’t listen

  I’ve never felt these deprivations
  I have never known such emotions

  I touch but I don’t feel
  I eat but it’s tasteless

  I’m literally not functioning
  I am but a dead human walking

  I breathe scentless flowers
  I yearn to sense your soul

  I’d give everything to be with you
  I would do anything to be yours 9

^∞


Revenge is sweet

according to some.

Revenge
Bloodied knuckles & a cowardly lover’s letter, expressing his unscripted departure.
I’ve not ever really know where to stand on this vexed issue. I know resentment burns one up on the inside and I know that holding grudges–harbouring feelings of having been unjustly wronged for too long–can corrode the innards of one’s soul, dampen any moment of merriness and darken any happiness. Yet, it is well known and regularly said that forgiveness is freedom and moving on without making retribution is liberation. That it may be, I just don’t know. I’m a full-on Jackel and Hyde, a bit of a bonny and a bit of clyde. I’m, you know, split within but i’m also maybe not really in a position to judge. Or am I? because nowadays i’m my very own private echo chamber (technically I ain’t, but he knows and I know that I fucking well actually am – one could have a thousand and one suitors but if he ain’t amongst the parliament of bees, it is little more than a hollow chamber pot). I know the desirous attractiveness of planing revenge, I know torturous torment, i know the feeling resulting from being labelled B. S.–i’d sooner roast in a Brazen Bull than let that one lie; I’d rather the thumbscrews be turned forcefully anticlockwise (mix in too, for poetic effect, some under the nail bamboo splits); i’d prefer the cat’s tails lash whilst spreadeagled and stretched over a rack-like horse of harshly sawn Sussex oak–I’ve read the hallowed words: there ain’t no wrath like that of a lady wronged, well yeah that be me. I’m stranded here and your there and yeah I know – i do know – you are fucked too but: Clean break huh? What the fuck’s that all about? Together forever? Two hearts beating as one? Soul-fucking-mates? You’re having a fucking larf darling, a full-on delusional & demonically demented laugh.

“her days were spent dallying with her inamorato.”

  My swain he did swoon
  Loopy’s the ship’s loon
  cock-swing née ‘coxswain.’

“we’ll dither and dally and together go fully doolally.”

So in the canon that I know, we’ve two diametrically opposing stances (set out for your perusal below, in Items 1 & 2), and yep for sure I get the notion that one chooses one’s horse depending on the course the hay-fed old nag’s gunna havta trot and canter along but come the fuck on: ain’t this the case of sitting one’s big fat derrière on the fence par excellence? I am a vegan pacifist wit large, but when it is downright up close and personal well ain’t that Italian thing called “vendetta” quite something stellar and spectacular? Just saying, because, well maybe, in practice it’s every so very base and entirely abhorrent.

Rome_TV_1
DOESN’T IT SO
I mean, who knows and who’s to judge? One man’s treasure may be another woman’s trash. His well articulated feminist views may be–‘may be’–his well honed and honeyed ruse to make a be-line for my (and any other young lady’s) ay-line (maybe, I said: “maybe”).

item 01:–

Turn the other cheek

You have heard that it was said, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you.
— Matthew 5:38 ff.

item 02:–

An eye for an eye

You must show no pity: life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, and foot for foot.
— Deuteronomy 19:21

Burn for burn, wound for wound, and stripe for stripe.
— Exodus 21:25

Just as he injured the other person, the same must be inflicted on him. Fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth.
— Leviticus 24:20


Copy & Paste, ha ha ha.

The advert in situ
“I see, I saw, I was conquered.”
3,500 years ago, King Hammurabi of Babylon compiled a series of commands regarding the day-to-day life of the citizens of ancient Iraq at that time. These commands, which dealt with topics from divorce to contracts to murder, were preserved on a diorite stela, binding future Babylonian kings to Hammurabi’s new code of law. this stone (shown below video) is on show in Paris at the Louvre Museum. And guess what? One of the 282 laws did say: an eye for an eye and The Life of Pi.


Love ain’t for the meek and that I’ll state to be a Category One CLASS FACT.

Hayez,_Francesco_–_Accusa_segreta_–_1847_1848
‘Accusa segreta,’ by Francesco Hayez (1847).
Her (my) eyes say Everything
tumblr_m7v2tbqg2T1rv2dfko1_1280
She’ll (I’ll) not be dissuaded; the damage done’s way too deep; vengeance hasn’t a conscience: mark my words Mr Sunshine, “This lady’s not for turning”

The Cloths of Heaven

from Yeats by way of me 2 U

Had I the heaven’s embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light;
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

W. B. Yeats

A while ago I profiled Yeats and gave a few lines of the poem above, I think that reading it as a whole is very much more moving (; profound etc.)… ^

&, here’s another. This is not about love though. For me, it’s somehow about being (stuck) on the shoulders of giants which is, I’d say, a mixed blessing; a double-edged sword (good for scientific advancement but an impediment to artistic originality — deference… ‘gratitude’… reverence… dependency… &c.):

Gratitude to the Unknown Instructors

What they undertook to do
They brought to pass;
All things hang like a drop of dew
Upon a blade of grass.

W. B. Yeats


XX. JUST ANOTHER NUMBER

  Tied to an Oak and Ghaf rack I abear,
  whenever weren’t love a thing to revere?
  It’s the heart of every sordid affair;
  was mine dashed by the whim of an Emir?

  We’d heaven ’til reality’s ensnare,
  there’s no fate worse than this heartfelt despair.
  Lost love lacerates, I hereby declare;
  you’re the sand’s one jewel, this I’ll not forswear.

  Stretched to the edge of reason I clamour,
  my heart begs you to hear its enamour.
  My words aren’t read yet I shall enedevour,
  for with lost love I’ve just them and velour.

  Damn these feeble rhyming lines, I’m too blue;
  I dream of your neck and love-biting you.


p.s.

mixed blessing
a thing that has disadvantages as well as advantages. — “Declaring the word love so late in their relationship was, with the benefit of objective and dispassionate hindsight, very much a mixed blessing…”


a double-edged sword
a situation or course of action having both positive and negative effects. — “Talking candidly about their darker thoughts was a double-edged sword in, oh so many bittersweet goddamned ways.”

✍🏻 I am so very sorry 😐

for the way I behaved with you

  More than words can express
   More than ever ever before
  —
   I so sincerely apologise
   I do so regret my wrongs
  —
   To think that our past times are now dark in your mind cuts me into 1,001 pieces
  —
   Heaven became Hell
   Paradise turned to Purgatory
   Luscious Light > Moonless Night.


Damned if you do,

(and) damned if you don’t.

While some will know the meanings of these adages:

Damned if you do, damned if you don't
Damned if you do, damned if you don’t
(Caught/Stuck/Trapped) between the devil and the deep blue sea.
(Caught/Stuck/Trapped) between the devil and the deep blue sea.
Between a rock and a hard place.
Between a rock and a hard place.
If you are like me, you’ll not have known that they all stem from:

Being between Scylla and Charybdis

…an idiom deriving from Greek mythology (but doesn’t so much seem to stem from Ancient Greece?!?). Being stuck between Scylla and Charybdis informs the more recent proverbial advice, that is, “to choose the lesser of two evils.” This is true too for the saying, “on the horns of a dilemma.” But nowadays, phrases like: (1) “between the devil and the deep blue sea,” (2) “between a rock and a hard place” and (3), “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” imply both evils are as bad as each other. In essence these phrases now mean having to choose between two equally bad choices which both lead (almost categorically) to disaster. Is this the same as a Hobson’s choice, well yes I think so, see this post: Hobson’s choice, explained. (I mean, there really isn’t a choice is there, take the left fork and you’ll be screwed, take the right fork and you’ll be fucked (either, or, not in any pleasurable sense)).

“Britannia between Scylla and Charybdis.”
A satirical cartoon/sketch commenting on a British political dilemma of yesteryear.
Scylla and Charybdis were mythical sea monsters/dangers noted by Homer in the Iliad. Scylla was said to be a rock shoal (described as a six-headed sea monster) on one side of a Mediterranean strait and Charybdis was a whirlpool off the coast of the other side (they were regarded as maritime hazards located close enough to each other that they posed an inescapable threat to passing sailors)–would either mode of death be the lesser of two evils?

Are these, strictly speaking, allegories? Do they reveal a hidden meaning? Not really. Look here and decide if you agree of disagree: Allegorically speaking…

Anyway,

Now on to the point and purpose of this post:

I am damned if I do

because it was said to me

“If you love me, you’ll leave me the fuck alone”

and thus, by not contacting you, I am currently dying repeatedly on the inside; this occurs during every minute of every waking hour. Therefore, I am:

damned if I don’t.

Get me? Do you get what I’m saying to you my sweet succulent honey bee? I’m dead without you; you became and now are my:

raison d’être

/French noun/
— the most important reason or purpose for someone or something’s existence