BLeta punetore

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i'll_wait_4_U_in_Heaven

Forumium praecox
Re: BLeta punetore

...oh please stop the madness, the sadness, the crippling I can't stand
...and if I leave, grief...just a while, it will change.
I think not, dream not, want not me beside you...
t'was sincere, my heart you broke, she forgets you.


What do we do...that kills innosence!

Once, crying and so sad I was that a thought popped into my mind, came out of my soul to give birth in this world of mine "since my back hurt so much, I swear I'll never do to people what others have done on me". I believed it was so thoughtful. I believed it would break the chains of hatred of passing my back burden onto an innocent soul. I thought it was a revelation comming from rainy clouds of a winter sky full of anger, of a plead of spring to bloom flowers...bloom flowers like the violets by the roadside feeding humanity love and tenderness. It was a revelation only love could have done it, that paying for your sins is ugly as an wrinkled whore. It is as sad as little birds shivering in wintery cold nights. It's a plead to humanity ...Enough.
I was a kid back then when I watched my cousin cry tears of love for someone, or scolded by her family and gossiping neighbors for honor...specs of honor. Me of a child, what could I know of love and demons of love!...but those were the most beautiful tear drops I had ever seen. I wished not to put my little hands and disturb that quiet veil of sadness, fixed eyes, big brown eyes of a beautiful fairy. I wished not to end that sad elegy of love, that while she was crying my heart sang of her angelic feelings and how I wished that love of her life could make those brown eyes sparkle with tears of joy. Those eyes that knew to love and express love like a thunder storm of a summer afternoon, dark and fiery. That I still believe, those tears can still save humanity. Till she grew up and became a mother, a gossipy woman targeting the world, cursing the world once she were, beating wings of a mournful eagle, a hating shadow who's fed on poison to poison back. WHy! a tear drop that heavy can dry even the innocent and feeble spring buds. What is she? A curse fed on curse grown of curse to strike back with curse. NEVER DO TO PEOPLE WHAT OTHERS HAVE DONE ON YOU. 'CAUSE YOU STRIKE YOURSELF...YOUR BACK IN TIME SELF.
 

Guest
Re: BLeta punetore

Shume e bukur I aspire /pf/images/graemlins/smile.gif
 
I

i'll_wait_4_U_in_Heaven

Forumium praecox
Re: BLeta punetore

Yes, I probably don't sleep, I said 'cause you stare me with those eyes. I fear those eyes! ohh! god whatever you are I don't want to see you. I am leaning against the wall thinking thoughts of you that disturb my dreams...ohh! just tell me what are you...I can hear you calling me, and my name are we separate entities!. You asked my heart...ohh! she is cursed with crowns of ice and artic winds they'll quench your fiery.

You'll probably come at night mounting that horse again, let me sleep please I don't want those eyes stare and disturb my posture...curled my hand around my neck my fist clenched on my chest, I sleep please let my dreams alone. I know you'll probably come again call me angel wake up I am here...ohh! go away you'll keep me awake. ohh! lord those eyes,who sing to my soul's peace to raise tides, spark love... I am a curse curled hand and feet, hugged and peaced with heaven go away...
 
I

i'll_wait_4_U_in_Heaven

Forumium praecox
Re: BLeta punetore

Now that I have a tongue

I knew something was strange because he babbled a lot. It was like spit coming out of his mouth everytime he argued with students or raised his voice when mentioning football games. I was sitting at the first desk and I held my hand in front of my face trying not to look at him. I was shy but I did not know what to make out of it, I kept my hand so I could cover my face and talk to my best friend next to me. When things got infuriated, his babbling a lot I asked my friend we could go out and do something else. It's gym class and we could go out because we are doing nothing. I remembered other students had asked permission and left. So I went to the professor's desk and in a half voice I asked him if I could go out for 10 min break like the rest. He mumbled something like -the principle might be in the hall yari yara. Well, I did not understand what the principle had to do with me going out, besides everyone who went to his desk and wanted an out permission fiuu was discharged out of the door. I could very well want to go to the bathroom and we were allowed for 10 min break but he refused. I went to my desk and started the conversation with my friend, and he started his babbling on and raising his voice and I thought that he was spitting too. After class I went to the bathroom and across the hall there he was, our eyes accidently met and there was something strange at his stare I could not make out what. Maybe today to me would seem like The crazy nut who had a sexual feast last night either in front of TV or with some kind of whore, whose now checking me out. I might have been probably 14 going to 15 years old. Well, I did not know what those stares were for, but he threw those in my direction that sometime were bothersome. Well, I knew why anyone could stare at me not that I hadn't had those kind of stares before but they always checked my bust. I wouldn't say I was very pretty because I wasn't held as such but now I say I was extremely pretty and simple and down to earth with my attitude. Anyways, Someday soon it struck on me that I could marry like anyone else, and since his stares were kind of odd I gave myself room to study my territory what was that about, keeping my pride in the right place. One day soon my favorite gjeografy teacher called me in her office and showed me a poetry that was about a guy who left her (I imagined it was about her because she was crying while reading it to me. It was a very touching poetry I remember feeling very bad about her. Afte leaving her office and she was saying goodbye to me, I saw the gym profesor pass her by without exchanging a word.That struck kind of odd to me because I remembered they always were together, I assumed friends. But that moment it popped in my mind that he must be the lover betrayer. I remember that I felt very bad that I wanted to hate him but on the other side I thought that would be inappropriate of me. So I decided I would write a poetry for my profesor instead. The next day soon I showed it to her like I always had. She always encouraged me to write poetries and called me little angel. She was the one who encouraged me to try to write love poetries, I thought it would be no harms since I aspired to be a grand writer anyhow. My poetries were about love but sincerely none of those were of my feelings and my love whereabouts. I was an adolescent idealist and I had in mind to change the world. So I wrote about love stories I saw at school, pesky heartbreaks of people I learned were in love. I wasn't prying anybody, friends would talk about this and that, and I would express my opinion in poetry. As far as writing for myself a love poetry I did not think so. I had boys who wanted me to be their girlfriend but I dreaded that I was very young and I had a future, that I wanted to be a reporter and a writer, that besides all that was a very moralistic society and I did not want the fate of so many I had writen poetries of. I used to write poetries about books I read or movies I saw. But I wasn't thinking of felling in love myself. As odd as it sounds sometime it feels to me that I was trapped between two worlds that of my moralistic - I know how boys are and what they want and darn you can trick me crap on that- And the one they aspired in literature class from two deliciouse young women professors. I remember I felt pride, but meanwhile I wrote poetries and I had no idea what kind of sensation had left on people besides that my two favorite teachers gjeografy and literature liked them to death or so it seemed.
After awhile things quiet down I learned from a friend without asking that the gym teacher looked at young girls that way and had them even though he was engaged. What?- I remember saying and he is engaged too. I felt so bad and guilty in me that I had been unware of his stares and that I showed interest in him. I went home that night and cried till I was satisfied which to me was for no reason just to express my feelings. I fell asleep and the next morning I was almost late for school and so downtroden that everything looked gray to me, maybe because I had cried till late. I lined with other classmates and I was waiting to get in the classroom when the geografy teacher and the gym profesor were threading through the file of students staring at each other and occassionally at me. I thought for a moment that they might have made up or something and rushed with the rest of the students to get in. That was something very strange that happened from that day on. Stares and most of all teacher's stares, sly stares, moking stares and finally an outburst of student I had not seen before. I could not understand but I remember running from the classroom out crying to bump on one of my teachers to my grandiose amazment she stared funny through me that I thought and wondered what might be wrong with her. I saw my friends leave one by one with no reason and some of my other friends spooking me with ohey and bla bla bla with no reason. I thought was that for me or I am imaging things. Anyways, to confirm things my two favorite teachers were as that fine mokery as the rest. I finally realized from their jeering and their conversations that they thought I had lost my virginity. I froze at that girls babbling on and on and laughing that I was amazed people could do such things for no reason. I froze but whenever I got up I was light as a feather and full of humming poetry. Poetry I did not know where it came from. You know how virginity was those days and what happenes when you loose it, especially if you have writen poetry to please people like an absent-minded idiot about love. Finally, the queen bee got it. What a laughter around, what an exhilarating fun to have me and have your day. As ever I froze, It was not true what they sad and they make up stories not true either. But their anger was so severe and sharp it cut my tongue instead I swallowed it so bad that I choked. I choked because no matter what I said it would not be believed, that no matter what I sweared it still would not do me justice. So I rebelled occassionally throwing at them my hurting truth, my choking tears that they thought they were tears of a whore. I went so bad in worble of such horror I did not know how to get out of it. I just knew that whenever I sat my eyes on some people that I thought they did not believe those lies I felt good and felt I wanted to talk that that wasn't true. I had not had anything and it was such embarrasing to talk about these things. That it was such embarrasing to be accused about these things. But I ever saw how they were being changed and how out of space was I of what's happening with these people. I started crying at night so bad and I could not tell my mother. If I told her that they tell me I have lost my virginity she would probably doubt me herself, and I felt so beyond helpless and vulnerable and outraged that people talked behind my back that man and guys who had hit on me before treated me like a whore like they could do anything they pleased with me. That was beyond comprehension. I wanted to explain them that was not true. Instead, I thought they were doing it for fun to destroy me. I cried at night till 5 in the morning cursed my self to death to die because I could not stand all that gossip around me so untrue and invented gossip. My geografi teacher who called me her angel lashed more than the others put my friends against me that I really thought she was a sick woman. I went to school every morning trying to concentrate to learn something among those jeers and quips for no reason. And went home broken and sad and helpless crying with the pillows in my mouth because I was afraid my mother could hear me. I cried till 2 am and promised myself to sleep till 4 am at least I could get up and finish my homework. I remember as I tried to solve those math exercises and thinking endlessly thinking and seeing the clock tick 7 ready for school with just scribbles on my notebook. I felt behind in my studies and still my parents did not know anything. I was so horrified to go to school because of what I could get from them but so dermined that I was innocent and crying so desperately that my life had changed so dramatically for something I just could not understand. At least I held my posture up and wondered midst of books endless lines that never got in because of endless hours spent crying and weting the pages. If there could be any more horrifying thing in the world that was the one THE ABUSE. I just did not know back then at the age 15 that I could just open my legs and show to them...whatever they were so bitching over me. I just did not know that such a thing ever egzisted but if I did what use could it be something awfull was unleashed and there was no turning back, there was no restore of innosence, no friends cominng back and if they did come back I just did not want to ever see them again. I just kept on going how much I could stand the outrageous abuse, how much it had grown that I was afraid even when I had my periods. My determination to go to school was that I at least could convince them animals beyond convincing that only wanted to had their fun, believing that I had gotten pregnant, how had I had it trust me back then were outrages, even though this person who took care to inflame everything laughs at me for being sensitive of this issues back then. Yes no more than preventing me for schooling and marginating and putting my friends against me for her capricious. I wondered why would she do such things to me but to get a husband what for.

It was then that my mother realized I was a little bit pale lately and decided with her neighbor to send me to a shaman. I went there with my neighbor and I remember I looked so sad to the point of breaking. I had talked to my neighbor about my problems but that was so odd to her. The shamen called bab Selimi just stared at me for a while with my head bowed and broken and asked what was my problem. I started to tell about this professor at school and he interrupted me ...DO you love him. I burst into a desperate no- and he said- WHy...I remember saying- Because he is engaged and because I don't love him. He thought for a while and started to sing a sad song which was about kurban,and faith in god that was all I could make out. And he reached for the fire to put some kindles in. I kept staring desperate and my head dropped that I hopped he could do something when he raised his voice and said---E bukura e dheut ti?--I wondered what was he talking about and stared at him. I said no I am not e bukura e dheut. He wrote a charm for me that I thought it could help. Things at school went into a constant rage I could hardly stand. Accusing me of most animalistic things such as lesbian, whore of no doubt and they had proves for it, my poetries that my uncle desperately made sure that I publish them, and the most disturbing of all "I was dying for this professor that I wasn't giving up till I seperated him from his fiance" it was outrages to me because I never approached the guy and besides all if anyone could be dying for him there were them who danced and laughed with him which seemed more than whores to me. Definitely not me, not me who did not give even stares. I was dermined that it was my life and what they were doing to me was outrageously unjust. Till after a while they realized that I was a virgin but had to... I don't know hook me with the professor anyhow at least I could lose it like in his car or at bathrooms at school according to them. I thought that these people never stopped that what they did disgusted me to the point of death, that I wanted to be left alone that I had not changed my mind, that I will not ever change my mind about this professor, who listening and believing at their crap had grown proud of himself and it had become such an indulgance to him. But there was one problem I was not approaching him so I was a lesbian. I had had plenty of crying that somehow those things started not to matter to me anymore that these people would never say the truth and only the truth that it hurt but it was so true. That I did not and never intendet to love the professor.That I wanted to finish school that whatever they threw on me was so absolutety untrue and what they wanted from me now was more than outrageous but definetely beyond humane. I kept myself high anyhow I had no reason to feel ashamed of, besides I am happy, you realized now the truth, do me the favor leave me alone 'cause it's my life and my virginity and I do the bidding how to loose it thank you very much and let me go home. But no it wasn't said so I had made too much of booo all around that god bless me I had never been aware of. I know that I never asked from people as much as to leave me alone and go home. I was sick and tired of everything. But I had not realized just yet that I was to be competition to my uncles who to my surprise treated me "si nenule" at the age 17 or my cousins... whore. That even in my house I had to stand them and stand them for years after and my parents never knew anything. That I was ugly that I was my grandma SIBE which my uncles liked to refer to me as they mother not to mention letting loose their whore side which is true. That I was so outraged that I wanted to scream don't you know me?

Finally, after a while of making me feel down and deeply hurt and lonely they decided that I was dying for a husband.They got me engaged with someone who thought was doing me an honor. I wanted to leave him not because I was a fart high girl, but because his family had no respect for my family that my mother's sister-in-law and my uncles ruled my happiness with the guy. That I felt I did not want my mothers fate who this sister-in-law bitch had ruled her marriage too, making my mother's life a living hell. I went through beyond torture just because I hated this woman, just because I could not forget her calling me from behind to sew my vagina, just because she wanted to rule and take charge of my life, of my marriage like she had to my mother. I did not say the guy wasn't a good person or not goodlooking but he was so much influenced about my uncles and their wives that I saw less choice in the matter. That no matter how much he liked me or I liked him too there was doom waiting for me MY MOTHER'S DOOM. So I tried to love him and stand their abuses in my own home, with them hovering on me and gossiping stuff that I felt my tongue choke me again, that this people never stop, and I think never will. I ended things with him for my own family's good or so I believed for my own good that at least I had escaped my mother's fate. I don't know who ever whispered ESCAPE in my ears because non of that sort existed in my life. Till people I knew and respected made of me a living crazy, who couldn't even bump in the wall pleading for a concussion or at least death, death to release these people that never stop, never say the right things for the pleasure of indulging in hurt. That from the horror of highschool years I had not even tears but my throat till it pulped out. That they knew so well to hurt you and so good right in the family hearth.

That to my horror there is no horror than loosing a family or having a sister-in-law whose only intention is to throw you on the street, mix and mingle a whole house and uses every opportunity to put you down when you are stressed out from exams, who takes care that I stay in fear in my own house,who fears I laugh at a joke in the computer to filter it to my brother I am watching pornography, who celebrates my down times with jeers and laughs my parents and my brother think are innocent, who pleads and begs day and night to do something to her so I could be banned from the house. My parents don't know anything about this , about her pretending to be good and don't give a shit for anybody, because if they knew not she, not any wouldn't last 2 sec in my house. A women who my relatives hold in esteem. That I could care less what they hold her for as long as she leaves me alone. That she won't pry and take care home many guys I talked to. Who almost drove the other sister to the streets with the mess that's cooking, whose highly respected for what is doing. Who takes care not to get along with the in-laws but how to make whores out of the daughter's of the house. And this beloved bride comes form the uncle's and aunties breeding and has two wonderful faces, one is the vampire who makes me scream in my sleep, and puts brother against sister, mother against daughter, and acts like she is doing nothing, uses the screams and yells to tell the daughters that they are paying for her sins, and that is very scared that we might get a husband because otherwise she would not be happy.

That the most dreadful doom could come from your own people, because I have no words to describe it, becuase I'll never have the words, because they have left me without a family, because no matter what they do, you can not hate them that no matter what they do they will be the garbage I speak of.


Thank you very much for listening
 
Q

Qorrfermani

Primus registratum
Re: BLeta punetore

Krijimet tuaja me pelqejne i_aspire, por mendoj se ato tingellojne me mire ne shqip se ne anglisht.
 
I

i'll_wait_4_U_in_Heaven

Forumium praecox
Re: BLeta punetore

Faleminderit!

E kam edhe nje perkthim ne shqip. Por me duhej ta shkruaja ne anglisht per ta botuar ne shkolle ne OLIVE TREE publikimi qe del cdo vit.
 
C

Cruel_Intentions

Primus registratum
Re: BLeta punetore

NUk e di pse nga titulli i temes mu kujtua..
Appe Maja
SI ka qen kenga..
Appe apppee appe maja scendi giu dal mio panino
non e miele ti sei sbagliata
e sollo pane e marmelataaa.. /pf/images/graemlins/laugh.gif /pf/images/graemlins/laugh.gif /pf/images/graemlins/laugh.gif

sorry taljonve per gabimet drejtshkrimore. :book:
-B

mbase e kam ngaqe kam 8 ore qe jam ne pune dhe kam 5 more..
saaaaaaaad
 
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