My words, your thoughts

New Project

I just realized what I really want to accomplish in life. my final goal before retiring.

 

Here is what I want:

I want to build a space colony. Somewhere between the moon and earth.

Here is what I need:

Funding

Team

Company/Corporation/Ideology/Brand/Label

Hierarchy:

The idea manages the entity that will allow it’s creation. The team is focused solely in acquiring the means for the idea to be complete. a team member may choose to work in whatever branch of the idea in whatever position he wishes to focus on but he will only be focused on one branch and all his work must be to improve the efficiency of the branch ability to function in accomplishing it’s task to complete the idea.

Every employee is free to donate his time to the company, and will be compensated for every 10 minutes of time donated. This new unit of measurement of work done will be from here on be referred to as 10MIN.

On the 24th of every month, the number of 10MIN will be calculated and the employee compensated.

The employee will wear a watch-like bracelet that will track the amount of 10MIN the employee will be donating throughout the month in the periods between the 24th of every month.

The employee will remain in the company portfolio so long as he donates a minimum of 10 10MIN between periods of the 24th.

The company will operate on a digital level. and will have it’s head office in the west part of Glasgow Scotland.

The recruitment process will be as follows:

Interview to the idea. The initial recruitment can only be done for the active main branch of the company. The active main branch of the company is defined by the priority one task to reach the next stage of the idea completion.

Donaters that wish to donate their time to the idea for the first time will need to complete a successful interview of the idea.

During the interview process the donater will need to ask the 5 mandatory questions in whatever form it wishes to ask, to receive the correct answer.

The donater can ask as many questions as he wants for as long as he wants to a maximum of 2 hours.

The donater will have to possess at the end of the question session a almost complete understanding of the idea.

This is the only question that will be asked by the interviewer, apart from the introductory questions, to gather only the relevant information from the donater:

Preferred name:

National Insurance Number:

Current address:

Mobile phone:

Current smartphone device: (AndoidOS only)

Current Windows account email:

Only preferred name is asked before the donater question session is successful. If unsuccessful the donater will not be asked any further questions that collect information.

The donater has to accept before being booked for a question session that all this process will be video recorded for both parties protection. And that failing to answer and provide all the information requested will be deemed a failure in completing the approval interview process. The donater can book as many sessions as he needs to complete a successful interview, but after a failed interview no new session can be book in the following 2 weeks.

 

 

 

 

Giving a fuck

When I was little I didn’t give a fuck, well I didn’t even knew what it was to give a fuck. But one day, when I was twelve or so, somebody told me I was supposed to give a fuck, he said the whole purpose of life was to give a fuck, he told me everybody gives a fuck, you need to start giving a fuck. So I become obsessed. About giving a fuck, because I mean how much of a fuck do I need to give? A little? A lot? And what about the others, did they gave a fuck about me? And what if people found out I didn’t knew how to give a fuck? Was my life over? So I started giving a fuck about everything, I had to be sure I was giving a fuck about the right things and because I didn’t knew how to give a fuck I thought well, if I’m giving a fuck I will go all out!

But then I couldn’t sleep, my mind was busy giving a fuck, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t laugh, I couldn’t relax, all my mind could do was to give a fuck. I gave so much of a fuck it almost killed me.

But one day, one rainy Autumn afternoon I finally realised, the meaning of life is not, to give a fuck, I understood all I had to do was to give a little fuck, to the things that made me happy I would give a fuck, to the ones I cared about I would give a fuck. I’m way more careful now.

Now I only have a few fucks to give. I don’t want to not give a fuck about everything, the fucks I give need to mean something to me, so if I seem like a don’t give a fuck now, its probably because I don’t, give a fuck, about you.

A smiling tear

In the sweetness of a stroke,
in an effort to provoke,
your skin left me open,
all the walls broken.

In the softness of your voice,
left alone I have no choice,
to grasp for your hand,
to stay where I stand.

In the light of your eyes,
stars explode in the skies,
and if the tears start to fall,
I will have no choice at all.

So if a smile needs to be stolen,
even if your eyes are swollen,
I would rip it apart,
so you could smile, with all your heart.

To the aching heart

My heart is aching
Slowly breaking
My mind is crying
slowly dying

As the hours pass
Ticking away so fast
My mind quickly crumbles
My mouth barely mumbles.

As the sadness sips deep
into my broken shell
It wades away too quick
ripping away that spell

Even though my heart endures
It slowly breaks
Even though my mind resists
It slowly aches

Memories of a time gone by
are keeping my heart alive
dreams I have yet to dream
turn more real it seems

In a world of sorrow
filled with lust
The hope I borrow
turns itself to dust

And even though my heart is open
It slowly breaks
And even though my mind is sound
it slowly aches

I find myself lost in words
as the clock gently turns
the tears streaming through my face
quickly accepting their fate

It falls to madness
My pitiful sadness
It turns hell
this darkened cell.

My heart is aching
Slowly breaking
My mind is fading
slowly raging

It aches
it burns
it slowly turns

It breaks
it cries
it slowly dies…

Betrayal

A betrayal of the soul, treason leaves a hole.

In the midst of trust an empty space is left, alone, empty, void.

A succumb to lust and excitement, an escape from loneliness, nothingness.

 

It is a wound that refuses to heal, in turn it bleeds into the unreal.

Where reality is raped, beaten and abused.

Leaving a superficial mask that lays on top, and hiding from view, the blood stains the room.

 

When hope replaces trust, with every thrust.

Tears kept inside, drown us in an anguish gasp for air.

Like a beaten dog we curl and lick the wound.

 

Food forgets it’s taste. joy leaves you numb, In a weak embrace.

Screaming so loud, why can’t it ever be the same.

But it’s nothing more than a wall laid on top of broken bricks.

 

A betrayal of the soul, a lie once told.

A fooling of the heart, hoping for a new start.

But some wounds never heal, no matter how much you crave, and beg the skies to be brave.

Disposable feeling

In the uncertainty of a night alone the voices are far too loud.
They scream and squeal and shout.

In the certainty of not knowing my soul becomes restless.
And a restless soul is seldom selfless.

The jealously invites the madness, the madness seduces pain.
And in all this sadness what am I to gain?

Torture me no more, leave my battered heart alone.
Strip me of all I should have thrown.

Although the agony tears my chest to shreds,
in all these words I lay my doubts to rest.

For to love is to suffer with a smile,
and even though the tears are flowing its only for a while.

 

Love thy fate (part 3)

“We are forever inter-twined you and I” she said, her icy blue eyes piercing his soul.
“We cannot escape our fates, you belong to me and I to you.”
He felt lost in her gaze, her long blonde hair floating gently, like it was stroked softly by the wind.
But there was no breeze in the room.
A sense of calm invaded him.
“You’re beautiful” he spoke.
“I am what your hearth makes me, true beauty comes from what you see.
I am yours and only yours.
For eternity I will hold you gently, striping away your sorrows and pain.
My arms will give you peace, my lips will lull you into a restful sleep.
No longer will your hearth ache, no longer will you feel alone, so come, hold my hand.” Her voice like honey, sweet, humming a seductive and passionate melody…

#momentsofastory

 

Love and other silly things.

I still remember my first crush, she was this cute little chubby girl from my class, she was funny and always nice to me. I was probably 6 or 7 years old, looking back now it seems so sweet how I was always trying to be a small part of her world, always trying to make myself appear special. She would always invite me to her birthday parties, it didn’t really matter I was the only boy invited. It’s so funny now, more so after I found out later she felt the same. It was a young silly crush, that if it wasn’t for my excruciating good memory, I would no longer remember.

I also remember my first kiss, at 15 years old, standing at another girls’ door, a kiss stolen from me without even realising what was going on. It was something that happened without me even thinking about it, it happened, it lasted for 4 days and then it was over.

The first time I fell in love, love in the full blown sense of the word, was when I had just turned 20. I remember bumping into her on the train, I remember the awkward way I asked her out for the first time, and I remember as if it was yesterday, our first date. It was the first time I didn’t felt afraid, I didn’t over-think everything, the first time It all felt as natural as breathing. From our night out together, to the sunset at the café until the kiss I stole before partying ways. It was all there, simple, carefree, real.

I have been chasing that feeling ever since, maybe sometimes overlooking what might be there, and on others completely exaggerating what isn’t.

I had flings, relationships, and love interests after that first time, but none ever came close to that feeling, to those moments we shared. It’s sad to say, but some pictures will forever be burned into my mind, like ghosts who refuse to leave and cease to haunt me.

How I long to be twenty and carefree again…

Ten years later I ‘m still sitting here writing about something I felt. Completely lost, I’m so different I barely recognise myself. And In truth what I long for is not the one I had before. It’s that feeling, the thrilling rush of adrenaline, the excitement of going with the natural flow. I want all those little silly things that make love real and worth it, not some cheap projection my mind keeps feeding me over and over again.

So in stories of love, and all these silly things, what do I really want?

Honestly.

I just want to be me again, carefree, happy, ready to take the whole world apart just to make it to where I want to be. I don’t want to hurt for no reason, or live in imaginary worlds. I want to smile like nothing else in the world matters, act silly like I am the happiest person alive, I want to feel that, just that. One last time.

Love and silly things, the kind of love that makes me say I don’t want you, I want me, I want the old me, want it so bad it hurts.

Love thy fate (part 2)

A rare tenebrosity engulfed the room around him,
Its weight crushing the very air he breathed.
The music,
nothing more than residual noise.
His focus inward.
The dancers around him made little to no impression,
their presence ethereal shadows.
He sat in that crowded vacuum,
contemplating memories of a life,
uncertain they ever were.
His immersion,
broken only by a hand,
that lightly,
reached out to him.
Pale and bright,
as rays of sunlight upon a frozen lake,
light itself emanated from it,
blinding him,
and has he looked up,
there she stood…

#momentsofastory