Ierafione

The Ant In The Chocolate Box

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Sat, 07 Aug 2010 15:07:00 +0000

So the ant dotted into the empty chocolate box while I picked the last piece.
I put on the lid and carried it to the bin. The ant was still zig-zag-ing around with the crumbs oblivious to the end of its life. Better to remove the lid and I took the little ziggling ant out and threw the box away.
Looking for food it found sweet, heaven in a box of crumbs all to itself.
Living in paradise heading for the end. Danger unnoticed.

A note to myself.

To the best of my ability

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Mon, 12 Jul 2010 14:41:00 +0000

I can only do things to the best of my abilities. =)

Preparing For Things That Matter

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Thu, 27 May 2010 05:02:00 +0000

“Most people vastly overestimate the extent to which more money would improve our lives. Most schools and colleges spend too much time preparing students for careers and not enough preparing them to make social decisions. Most governments release a ton of data on economic trends but not enough on trust and other social conditions. In short, modern societies have developed vast institutions oriented around the things that are easy to count, not around the things that matter most. They have an affinity for material concerns and a primordial fear of moral and social ones…Governments keep initiating policies they think will produce prosperity, only to get sacked, time and again, from their spiritual blind side.”

~ David Brooks, from “The Sandra Bullock Trade,” New York Times (March 29, 2010)

My Dear

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Mon, 10 May 2010 07:35:00 +0000

Remember to love myself, and do what I love.

Is Prostitution Paid Rape?

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Tue, 20 Apr 2010 16:33:00 +0000

http://www.americanchronicle.com/articles/view/18631

To quote a bit from the article:

Are Prostitutes Human?

The entire sex industry, globally, would be quite different if we prostitutes completely controlled it and no men made money off of us.

What does Ms. Miles mean by a ‘proper’ brothel, I wonder? And in what way does this sort of ‘sex-for-sale zone’ protect the women who work there? What does Ms. Miles mean by ‘protect.’ She only mentions ‘medical checks.’ I’d like to inform Ms. Miles that the sort of protection women really need—the psychological protection from sex without tenderness or love--is not available in a brothel.

I also want those things,

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Tue, 20 Apr 2010 11:43:00 +0000

but...

"Why am I different?"

"Why...do you have to be like others?"

Poetry: Tearing the page

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Sat, 17 Apr 2010 13:36:00 +0000

Tearing the Page
by Li-Young Lee

Every wise child is sad.

Every prince, is a member of the grass.

Each bud opening opens on the unforeseen.

Every wind-strewn flower is God tearing God.

And the stars are leaves
blown across my grandmother’s lap.
Or the dew multiplying.

And of time’s many hands, who can tell
the bloody from the perfumed,

the ones that stitch
from the ones that rip.

Every laughing child is forgetful.
Every solitary child rules the universe.

And the child who can’t sleep
learns to count, a patient child.

And the child who counts negotiates
between limit and longing,
infinity and subtraction.

Every child who listens
all night to the wind eventually

knows his breathing turns a wheel
pouring time and dream to leave no trace.

Though he can’t tell what a minute weighs,
or is an hour too little or too long.

As old as night itself,
he’s not old enough in the morning
to heat his milk on the stove.

But he knows about good-byes.
Some of them, anyway. The good-bye
at the door each morning, a kiss for a kiss.
The good-bye at bedtime,
stories and songs until it’s safe to close his eyes.

And maybe he’s even heard about the waiting room
at Union Station, where dust and echoes climb
to the great skylights

accompanied by farewells
of the now-going, to join the distant
farewells of the long gone,

while a voice announces the departure
of the Twentieth Century for all points West.

Yes, every wise child is heart-broken.
A sorrowing pip,

he knows the play
he’s called away from each evening
is the beginning and end of order
in a human household.

He’s sure his humming to himself
and his rising and falling ball are appointed
by ancient laws his own heart-tides obey.

But he can’t tell anybody what he knows.

Old enough to knot his shoelaces,
he’s not old enough to unknot them.

Old enough to pray, he doesn’t always
know who to pray to.

Old enough to know to close the window
when it storms, old enough to know the rain,
given the chance, would fall on him,

and darken him, and darken him, the way
he himself colors the figures
he draws, pressing so hard he tears the page.

Undercover Investigation: Animal Abuse at Iowa Egg Factories

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 00:18:00 +0000

我很可笑

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Thu, 08 Apr 2010 05:01:00 +0000

I'm so funny that it is not funny at all.

'..we always know which is the best road to follow, but we follow only the road that we have become accustomed to.’

(The Pilgrimage by Paulo Coelho)

A Warrior of Light

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Wed, 07 Apr 2010 04:40:00 +0000

knows that he has much to be grateful for.

He was helped in his struggle by the angels; celestial forces placed each thing in its place, thus allowing him to give his best. That is why, at sunset, he kneels and gives thanks for the Protective Cloak surrounding him.

His companions say: "He's so lucky!" But he knows that "luck" is knowing to look around him and to see where his friends are, because it was through their words that the angels were able to make themselves heard.

(The Zahir by Paulo Coelho)

远离是非

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Sun, 04 Apr 2010 04:16:00 +0000

远离是非

How could I forget?

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Fri, 02 Apr 2010 08:56:00 +0000

Forgotten certain things, and then I remembered them again..
The one thing that is supporting this world. The most important thing. How could I forget?
How far would you go to protect yourself?

Report To The Dance Floor

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 14:23:00 +0000

Where is your limit?

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Sun, 21 Mar 2010 14:47:00 +0000

I've made my choice. It's a difficult one. Now I just have to pick up my courage and start..

TEAM

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 14:41:00 +0000

T ogether
E veryone
A chieves
M ore

What you want & who you are.

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 14:47:00 +0000

"You don't always get what you want. But you'll get according to who you are."

On a different note, my legs are tired. Tired but happy.

I Guess You'll Do (Hahahahaha)

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 15:34:00 +0000

Spine

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 16:18:00 +0000

"Befriend a thousand books, and have the spine to stand by your beliefs."

The Things That Matter

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 09:44:00 +0000

Kindness is a virtue that the blind can see and the deaf can hear.

Almost anything good you do will seem insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.- Ghandi

From How to Live Without Fear & Worry by K Sri Dhammananda
(free circulation)

Her Name Is Alice!

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 13:26:00 +0000

Shinedown - Her Name Is Alice

Love this.

The Hardest People To Love

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 04:22:00 +0000

"The people who are the hardest to love are the ones who need it the most.” -Peaceful Warrior

=D

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 13:49:00 +0000

=D
Emoticons cannot express how happy I feel right now!!!
Thank you!

Live Well, Take Care

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 14:02:00 +0000

Live on, live well.
Be happier, be stronger. Treat yourself better. Love your people more.
Live stronger. Show that you can live very well.
You can be proud of yourself.

There is no need to believe in anything. There is no need for beliefs. Just be.
& Love strongly, not more.

Difficult

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 13:22:00 +0000

It is difficult.
It will always be difficult.

Reflection.

noreply@blogger.com (Ierafione) — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 16:21:00 +0000

I can't pick a title.