nammiewammie's blog

It's been too long.

http://truthserum.blog.com/1033546/

i got really bored today and i couldn't concentrate, so i googled my username
somebody thinks i'm one of markus's multiple identities. hah!

Initially, I wasn't sure if posting this would be appropriate here, so I took it down for a while. But, with a little help from Sugarplum, I've decided to put it back up.
My mom died last Wednesday after a long battle with cancer. I know that I've vented to some of you guys and felt that you had a right to know.
I kept things updated in my blog, if you guys want a little more(or a lot as you'll see) detail. I just want to thank you guys for being there for me and my mom, as this hasn't been easy for any of us over the past few years.

http://blog.myspace.com/naypooha
under Cancer (Updated)

9 Days and Counting: It's that time again, time to go back for another nine months. AP US History will undoubtedly be my life for this short time. I just hope this year will go by smoothly. Arrivederci Broth, I'll be back whenever I get time after homework :)

In this world I wonder, what we have become.
Our faith and consideration replaced by false idols,
Our means of worship in the form of your nearest mall,
Our confessionals now dressing rooms.
The items of yesteryear are simply not sufficient,
And prayers are answered with the swish of a credit card.
A short burst of fulfillment for those new pairs of shoes
Becomes an insatiable appetite to fill the void.
More is more, and world matters do not matter
As they did before.

Possessions left behind as bullets bombarded homes.
Fathers fallen, children left powerless and alone.
Forced to move, to gather in a safe haven
As emaciated bodies lay slain,
Scattered across barren terrain,
Bones jutting, reaching out for justice and consolation.
Desperate for refuge and collected like cattle,
The battle was one and the same:
People against people,
Religion the tipping point between life and death.
More is more, but world matters do not matter
As they did before.

Written by Nadienne P.

I didn't write this myself, but it really relates to current circumstances in the Middle East. It just goes to show you that, no matter how much we evolve as a species, we still have the same human emotions and characteristcs.

Let us seize a pregnant pause and see ourselves for what we are.
This thing we are, this form we take
Is frail and weak.

We are silly beasts, pining to discharge our strength.
In this truth lies great utility.

Hollow in heart and void in form, we are now left in the hands of war,
plagued with knowing that apes really do kill apes.

We have seen the fallen fall and the fleeing have fled
Fed by fear, racing through congested brick jungles.
Our Lust suffused our foresight, and overrun with greed and speed.

We broke.

We are cannibals preying on prayers.

We are moored to the quay by merchant machines.
Guarded by armies of crisp white on white soldiers walking rigid lines.

Thwart this tepid regime and the specious savants,
plaguing us with facades and sameness, plundering our trust.
Turning lions into sheep and then feeding us back to ourselves.

Let these incumbent wardens grow fat. Let them self-devour.
Let them em-bid their fodder faster than they can chew and swallow.
For they have already choked.

Let us kill and create
And leave them to peck and vie in turbid murk and soot.

Now schism and secrete.

Inimitable willingness to forego the moment with its gamle of good and foe.
Our idols are mere baubles.

Lament not, move in unity. Let us kill and hear with our hearts.

In this place we sit, Brand made fame a monster and density replaced God.

For God is made of time and time of gold.
Time to propound with aim en masse, this notable quest to progress.

Tomorrow is today. A great dawn and dusk.

Now rise- and stop quoting aesthetics. Wars are fought with swords.

We are the devoured and the bite.
We are the lamb and the blade.
We are the predator and the prey.

And let us kill and not mistake these words for ingratiation,
for they are not.

Merely an angle of attack.

A well-aimed whisper.

A form of war.

I don't know if i should be scared. i don't like to think about it, but the reality is that she could die any day and i don't know how much longer this will go on. it seems like i'd get used to the idea, considering this has been going on for years, but i've gone through too many ups and downs to know for sure. it seems like, even if it goes away, i'm just counting the days until it comes back. i remind myself not to be too happy because it could easily come again. now that it's back, and she's sick, i don't know what i should think. i don't know if i should be scared.