Effortfully Effortless

I find it ironic the efforts one put into being effortless. How one can go collecting all there is for the sake of producing an end-result of 'near-nothingness'.

"to sound effortless," says the reality show contestant at the end of a long day of rehearsals.

"to look effortless," says the the girl by the pile of clothes she's unearthed from her closet.

"wear natural make up," reads the 'beauty tips' section of some magazine.

It is a rather excruciating thought to think that the simplest things in life could actually be the end-result of layers and layers and layers (and that multipled by a gazillion) of touch ups. That it takes an awful lot of steps to achieve the lowest level of simplicity. That simplicity even has levels. That times have changed and meanings have shifted. That times change and meanings shift.

Victory?

humans put so much effort in winning a game. arguments. war.

long hours of reasoning.
years of unavailing deaths.
a life time of irreparable friendships.

ignorant of the fact that true victory is achieved only in winning the heart.

you may win the game and forever lose a friend.
win an argument and forever lose a soul.

human's ego is a tricky bitch.

politicians, chinese, einsteins

Is it because they're so darn smart or because they sit in such a position or because they have such blinding amount of $$$ that some actually fail to see the necessity of taking an extra mile, or maybe two?

Knowledge, power, money, have not a darn thing to do with initiative.

The bed is the ultimate friend

Your tears it will absorb and lets it dry without complaints. It does not throw a fit when you jump on it in delirious excitement, as much as it might hurt. Almost like it lightens up in the same level of thrill. It does not insult you of your body, anorexic or obese you. It accepts you, and the weight you may have gained, or some of those you may have lost. It likes you. Always. Hugs you after a long nerve-wrecking day. One of those frustrating days you may hit him in uncontrolable anger. Perhaps even rant in Martian. But it listens, and does no talking back. It stares back at you, the kind of stare that, it if were human, comes with arms wide open. Serenity written all over.

The bed accepts. Respects. Listens.

Any time.

Any day.

If I could only marry a bed.

Dark Chocolates

What is it about dark chocolates people indulge themselves in? The unappealing dark nearly black color of it? The bitter tang that dwells on your tongue after a bite or two? Maybe the fact that it contains some sort of anti-depressant ingredient? Perhaps that other fact from that other study saying dark chocolates turn women on? What is it about black coffee? Or a cold glass of beer? That it keeps you awake in the most effective way? That beer gets even the most random of strangers together--talking, laughing, and having the best of time? Or is it just that simple, unambiguous fact that, every once in awhile, humans do find bliss in the bitter? That bitter somewhat somehow tinges the humdrum of your Sundays? Bitter presented in some certain shape. Or name. Or word.

Like chocolates. black coffee, beer, or love.

With some sort of aftereffects.

Cliches, Sweet Cliches

Sometimes the most cliche words and, yes, movie scenes in this world hold the most needed truths in life. Life itself is a crazy cliche. You'll always find someone who's going to tell you that your story sounds only so familiar and tell you how the same kind of story has happened before. But that's where greatness is found... It's always good to know you're not alone, and someone, somewhere, understands and share the same feeling. In these familiar stories you find security. In these familiar stories that repeat from generation to generation is the beauty of life. As much as you may hate mushy, romantic, ever after movies, you will always want your life to end the way those predictable, cliche movies end. Because the simple truth is, we all just want to be happy and feel good.

And all those mind twisting philosophies will never compare to life's sweet cliches,