"Relationships"
a working definition, by Michael Sherrillo
A real relationship does not involve worship. There is no leader, no hierarchy, no god or goddess... there is no slave and master, no one higher, better, or more worthy... no red carpet should be rolled out for only one party. This is infatuation. This is immaturity. This may be many things, and this may work for some people, but to me, this is not true love. So, I am here and now, for all time and history, setting forth my definition, my desire, my thoughts, my feelings, and my hope of what I believe a mature loving and serious relationship is, and what I hope to someday have. (This may encounter several revisions as time/life goes by)
My 10 Relationship Commandments:
1) A relationship requires first and foremost two very forgiving people. If someone can't or doesn't ever think they are partially wrong, and even worse never apologizes honestly and heart fully, I don't think the relationship will work. This is also true if they never say they forgive you when you do make a mistake. If a person holds grudges and doesn't forgive you or let you know you have been forigven, how can you have room for anythng except bittnerness, hostility, and hurt? Becasue you will both, always, need forgiven.
2) A relationship requires partners. Neither is better, worse, deserves more or less, you must see each other as equals. Which means you appreciate each other, respect each other, and give to each other. Neither is higher or lower, which means the relationship isn't one sided.
3) A relationship requires two humans. This means each person will make mistakes, probably lots of them. If you can't accept that they aren’t perfect and love them, mistakes and all, then you are working with the wrong species, and I suggest you take up sheep farming instead.
4) Each party did have a life before you. There history, good and bad, is what has made them the person you love and are with now. Either forget history and be grateful for what they are and you have now, or accept their past and that is made them into the person you love.
5) The golden rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Treat the other person in the same way you want them to treat you, whether you think they deserve it or not. Do not treat them the way they treat you! Only the way you want to be treated. (i.e. you want them to call more often, call them more often)
6) Each party has a life outside of you. Friends, family, and traditions... these are also a part of them, and make them the person you are with. How can you expect to be with them without becoming a part of their life? People are like an interlocking ring. These relationships with other people are circles that are all interconnected, with your significant other being the small central space they all share. You cannot connect to them if you don't want to also connect with their other circles of friends, family, etc and become a part of them as well.
7) Share. Everything. Share your heart, your thoughts, your days, your ideas, your dreams and desires, your hopes and fears, your problems and your worries. Why be with someone you can't talk to, how will you ever truly know someone who won't talk to you. Open honest sincere communication is the key to any good relationship. The better it is, the closer you will be.
8) Listen. You need to try to understand where your partner is coming from, to empathize with them and see their side and reasoning. You don't have to agree, but you need to try and put yourself in their shoes; And to do that you have to listen to what they say.
9) Be flexible. No relationship is static, there are always new situations and issues, which bring new problems and need new solutions. Never stop trying to work things out together. Try to compromise as much as you can.
10) Trust. Trust how they feel about you, trust what they do when your not their. No amount of gifts or attention proves or means anything. These only sooth your own insecurities. In your heart, you either trust someone cares about you and loves you, or you don’t. It's can't be shown and doesn't lay in big gestures, but in the small every day actions that show you who they really are. Trust can't be bought with 500 roses for you 5 month anniversary, its in the way they hug you extra tight when they leave, or the way they look at you when they think your asleep. Trust them and let them be themselves, or you will both be unhappy.
*Have any ideas, thoughts, comments, questions, and curiosities? Anything you think I missed, or which you feel is inaccurate or should be changed? Let me know! Just click on the "UEF: messageboard" button under "Links of Interest" to your right and post away!
Tuesday, May 27, 2003
Monday, May 26, 2003
"Afraid"
My heart laid bare, Michael Sherrillo
I sit in darkness while the thousand-headed demon of doubt cackles as he circles my head. Pitchforks clenched in hoofed hand, my mind is pricked by its sharp and burning blades. Plagues of locust swarm into my heart, violating the tender cared crops of sea green tranquility. Raped and pillaged, these Elysian Fields are ravaged and razed into a scorched desert wasteland. I fall, into a pit without bottom, without end... the world fades to black as I lose myself with no direction but down. I feel dizzy; I feel weak; I feel lost. Is this my own creation? This monster, which plagues me, whose shadows keep my minds eyes from closing at night, whose whispers I hear echo in my ear? What will I see when I turn the final corner? My assailant? Myself? Nothing? These doubts, these haunting ghost of doom and despair, wailing in the empty halls and lonely towers of my unconscious, dare I listen to their midnight cry? Dare I heed the warning that may or may not be? Or do I cast off worry, fight off fear, and end this nagging hand of cowardice that tugs incessantly at my arm sleeve at its wrist and allow myself to honestly feel? Am I a coward of the heart? Have I been scared to deeply to open myself to another wound? Am I afraid because I see the chance of being hurt more than I ever knew? If only I knew why I cannot allow myself to fall... I'm tiered, and if I do it again, I want it to be the last time. No longer do I wish to struggle to float and swim only to sink and have the waves and tides toss me back upon the shores. I don't want to fight for nothing anymore. But I'm afraid to drown... so I stand not moving forward or back, ankle deep, looking out in hope and fear.
My heart laid bare, Michael Sherrillo
I sit in darkness while the thousand-headed demon of doubt cackles as he circles my head. Pitchforks clenched in hoofed hand, my mind is pricked by its sharp and burning blades. Plagues of locust swarm into my heart, violating the tender cared crops of sea green tranquility. Raped and pillaged, these Elysian Fields are ravaged and razed into a scorched desert wasteland. I fall, into a pit without bottom, without end... the world fades to black as I lose myself with no direction but down. I feel dizzy; I feel weak; I feel lost. Is this my own creation? This monster, which plagues me, whose shadows keep my minds eyes from closing at night, whose whispers I hear echo in my ear? What will I see when I turn the final corner? My assailant? Myself? Nothing? These doubts, these haunting ghost of doom and despair, wailing in the empty halls and lonely towers of my unconscious, dare I listen to their midnight cry? Dare I heed the warning that may or may not be? Or do I cast off worry, fight off fear, and end this nagging hand of cowardice that tugs incessantly at my arm sleeve at its wrist and allow myself to honestly feel? Am I a coward of the heart? Have I been scared to deeply to open myself to another wound? Am I afraid because I see the chance of being hurt more than I ever knew? If only I knew why I cannot allow myself to fall... I'm tiered, and if I do it again, I want it to be the last time. No longer do I wish to struggle to float and swim only to sink and have the waves and tides toss me back upon the shores. I don't want to fight for nothing anymore. But I'm afraid to drown... so I stand not moving forward or back, ankle deep, looking out in hope and fear.
Friday, May 23, 2003
Thursday, May 22, 2003
Monday, May 19, 2003
"The Machine"
by Michael Sherrillo
A child’s suffering matters not,
Pain is in and around us all.
Our lives, our sorrows,
So many bugs on times windshield.
Can you we really appreciate
The height of a mountain, without
Standing at its base in awe.
A gentle love will have more worth,
Having followed so much hate.
A man without arms will embrace,
His children even tighter with his heart.
Perspectives change.
Can I appreciate being tall,
Unless I was first short?
Life is not a plateau.
Life is a series of hills and valleys,
The depth of one accentuates
Another’s loftiness.
Anything can be done, felt,
But it has no meaning, it cannot be known,
Understood, realized, appreciated,
Without its opposite.
Believe you matter,
Think you have meaning.
For all your love and hope,
Means nothing alone,
And combined, every father,
Every child, all their loss and love and culture...
Are just so many bugs on the windshield.
I didn't, I actually answered it. There is no reason for the world to exist, and there is also no reason for it not to... it simply does. Existence IS a choice of perception, just like time. If you step away from time, it can pass instantaneously, and you will cease to exist; all that needs be done is change your perspective. And by having or not a choice, I only mean that generally your biological instinct to survive, coupled with humanities fear of the truly unknown, overrides any desire to do otherwise. So no matter your cognitive/emotional wish, it is very difficult to not exist.
by Michael Sherrillo
A child’s suffering matters not,
Pain is in and around us all.
Our lives, our sorrows,
So many bugs on times windshield.
Can you we really appreciate
The height of a mountain, without
Standing at its base in awe.
A gentle love will have more worth,
Having followed so much hate.
A man without arms will embrace,
His children even tighter with his heart.
Perspectives change.
Can I appreciate being tall,
Unless I was first short?
Life is not a plateau.
Life is a series of hills and valleys,
The depth of one accentuates
Another’s loftiness.
Anything can be done, felt,
But it has no meaning, it cannot be known,
Understood, realized, appreciated,
Without its opposite.
Believe you matter,
Think you have meaning.
For all your love and hope,
Means nothing alone,
And combined, every father,
Every child, all their loss and love and culture...
Are just so many bugs on the windshield.
I didn't, I actually answered it. There is no reason for the world to exist, and there is also no reason for it not to... it simply does. Existence IS a choice of perception, just like time. If you step away from time, it can pass instantaneously, and you will cease to exist; all that needs be done is change your perspective. And by having or not a choice, I only mean that generally your biological instinct to survive, coupled with humanities fear of the truly unknown, overrides any desire to do otherwise. So no matter your cognitive/emotional wish, it is very difficult to not exist.
Tuesday, May 13, 2003
"You Don't"
by Michael Sherrillo
Love cannot exist without the taste of hatred,
Hope will never be if you do not know failure.
All is but one, all difference, all passions,
Just many faucets of a singular whole.
The illusion is that you have chosen love,
For love is hate, life is death.
These thin lines we walk,
Thinking miles separate us from either edge.
Take the magnifier off your life,
See yourself from the distance of eternity.
Buddha will fade, Jesus will be forgotten,
The temples of Allah will crumble
As Shiva’s statues turn to dust..
Of what greater importance to time are you?
Time is a pond, we but ripples from life’s stone.
In your family, you’re a boulder,
But step back and see yourself;
From the whole of your city, a stone.
From your country, a pebble.
From the world? A grain of sand
Now your decade, your century. From time innumerable.
You are nothing.
What grand delusions exist!
Becaue light is better than darkness.
Rather I would be miserable in truth,
Than blissful in deceit.
It is here for the same reason it is not. And 1) existence is nothing but a choice of perception, 2) what makes you think you have a choice?
Do live in sorrow? No, I live as nothing, and take neither joy nor sorrow, both one and the same, in it. I am at peace, and that is all.
by Michael Sherrillo
Love cannot exist without the taste of hatred,
Hope will never be if you do not know failure.
All is but one, all difference, all passions,
Just many faucets of a singular whole.
The illusion is that you have chosen love,
For love is hate, life is death.
These thin lines we walk,
Thinking miles separate us from either edge.
Take the magnifier off your life,
See yourself from the distance of eternity.
Buddha will fade, Jesus will be forgotten,
The temples of Allah will crumble
As Shiva’s statues turn to dust..
Of what greater importance to time are you?
Time is a pond, we but ripples from life’s stone.
In your family, you’re a boulder,
But step back and see yourself;
From the whole of your city, a stone.
From your country, a pebble.
From the world? A grain of sand
Now your decade, your century. From time innumerable.
You are nothing.
What grand delusions exist!
Becaue light is better than darkness.
Rather I would be miserable in truth,
Than blissful in deceit.
It is here for the same reason it is not. And 1) existence is nothing but a choice of perception, 2) what makes you think you have a choice?
Do live in sorrow? No, I live as nothing, and take neither joy nor sorrow, both one and the same, in it. I am at peace, and that is all.
Monday, May 12, 2003
"You do?"
by Michael Sherrillo
Have you ever felt time moving by so quickly that before you can truly grasp a moment, before your own life is realized, it is gone? Have you ever felt the worlds true sorrow, seen it's pain, heard its cries of anguish? Know what all-great minds before us have, that life is suffering? Mouths twisted with agony scream a million screams, of death, loss, hurt, hunger, thirst, defeat... the tears of humanities sorrow, of life’s brutal savagery, will always drown out joy. The only true happiness is ignorance.
Hidden unaware in the cave of denial and self-delusion we grin. We grin because we forget to realize no great forces, no benevolent spooky father figure is waiting for us to become his slaves so "his will" can be done till we go to some spiritual netherworld where we sit in “his” glory for eternity. (Most people move out of home for a reason) There is no higher consciousness of any kind, any god, gods, goddesses, or " spitirual force". We are all tiny insignificant cogs in life, in nature’s great machine. There is no deus ex machina, no god in the machine. Rather, a machina e' deus, the machine is god. That is all. Everything you know, everything you are, all knowledge, all culture, life, society, civilization, love... serves one purpose, to get our genes into the next generation. Beyond that, the machine of life and time rolls on, leaving our joy, our sorrow, our laughter and screams, our towers, our buildings, our churches and our whore houses, our faith, our religion, our "immortal" souls, our parents, our children, us... all food for the worms. A machina e' deus. Roll on.
by Michael Sherrillo
Have you ever felt time moving by so quickly that before you can truly grasp a moment, before your own life is realized, it is gone? Have you ever felt the worlds true sorrow, seen it's pain, heard its cries of anguish? Know what all-great minds before us have, that life is suffering? Mouths twisted with agony scream a million screams, of death, loss, hurt, hunger, thirst, defeat... the tears of humanities sorrow, of life’s brutal savagery, will always drown out joy. The only true happiness is ignorance.
Hidden unaware in the cave of denial and self-delusion we grin. We grin because we forget to realize no great forces, no benevolent spooky father figure is waiting for us to become his slaves so "his will" can be done till we go to some spiritual netherworld where we sit in “his” glory for eternity. (Most people move out of home for a reason) There is no higher consciousness of any kind, any god, gods, goddesses, or " spitirual force". We are all tiny insignificant cogs in life, in nature’s great machine. There is no deus ex machina, no god in the machine. Rather, a machina e' deus, the machine is god. That is all. Everything you know, everything you are, all knowledge, all culture, life, society, civilization, love... serves one purpose, to get our genes into the next generation. Beyond that, the machine of life and time rolls on, leaving our joy, our sorrow, our laughter and screams, our towers, our buildings, our churches and our whore houses, our faith, our religion, our "immortal" souls, our parents, our children, us... all food for the worms. A machina e' deus. Roll on.
Friday, May 09, 2003
"Make Mine A Sad Meal, Please..."
A Response to Mike's Post About Depression
I think Mike hit it on the nail. In society we place so much emphasis on being happy as much as possibile, but I think anger, hate and pain as emotions that are just as strong.
Why must everything be static? I mean in nature things fluctuates like population of rabbits to wolves.
We are told that we should be a single weight and something is wrong if we gain or loss a pound. It is not normal for us to not be constantly happy, and we should seek "professional" help to determine if we are sane.
Does a slap in the face not make you feel more than a hug?
A Response to Mike's Post About Depression
I think Mike hit it on the nail. In society we place so much emphasis on being happy as much as possibile, but I think anger, hate and pain as emotions that are just as strong.
Why must everything be static? I mean in nature things fluctuates like population of rabbits to wolves.
We are told that we should be a single weight and something is wrong if we gain or loss a pound. It is not normal for us to not be constantly happy, and we should seek "professional" help to determine if we are sane.
Does a slap in the face not make you feel more than a hug?
Wednesday, May 07, 2003
Tuesday, May 06, 2003
Monday, May 05, 2003
Saturday, May 03, 2003
Thursday, May 01, 2003
"Another Date"
2 poems and a rant, by Michael Sherrillo
Another name, another number...
All days seem to pass the same.
One face blends into another,
No one lingers,
No one remains.
Drifting with the currents of life,
I see all, but cannot stop.
I only wish that I could find her,
Someone to float through time with me.
Another name, another number...
One less stone to hide under.
One less rock to search below.
Every leaf I turn, every number I call...
Maybe under the next I'll find that girl.
Another name, another number...
Dating... the final frontier. I'm afraid of dating, which isn't to say that I don’t date... I do, but I just don't like it.
Dating is too much like life... it represents a possible beginning, a possible end, and a present separate from the two...
It may be the beginning of something really fun, the end of something that never was, or the experience of and by itself.
I fear dating because so much depends on so little... they say love is like success, luck in both is all good timing.
I believe I may have the worst timing in the world. So many dates and people have seemed so promising, so interesting... even if they were destined not to last, even to explode in a short flight of Hindenburg proportions, what an amazing ride those few flaming falling moments would have been.
But every emotional bridge which I attempt to cross is constantly burned in the firestorm of bad timing which blazes up torching my poor heart and
sending it cascading into the crevice of loneliness again and again. Why? I used to blame myself, then women, god, karma, destiny, fate... I've raised my fist in protest of each, cursing with a pitch and fervor, with tone and words a sailor would blush to hear. But then I realized it's all luck. There is a reason luck is often referred to as a lady, the way it comes and goes, bringing you up higher than you ever though then sending you down lower than you'd ever go. Vegas is filled with tales of her fickle attention, of her moody nature. And I don't blame her for her swings, after all, women mirror the ocean, in its tidal comings and goings... life in its constant cycles of growth and death... I just get frustrated that whenever luck is a lady with me, she acts like a PMSing crack whore who just got stiffed 5 bucks. Maybe one day I'll meet someone... I figure that even if in the crap shoot of romance the house always wins, if you play enough times then eventually you'll get a lucky roll. So I sit, like a slot jockey being held up by the one-armed bandit, pumping in quarters while combinations of numbers, like so many cherries, lemons, and bar's spin by in front of me. Enough quarters... enough rolls, eventually, statistically, I have to win once... I just hope I'm not emotionally bankrupt before that one lucky pull comes. So I sit, thousands around me stuck in the same casino of loneliness, our eyes glazed from numbers and smoke, all the while, the distant din of money tinkling, or an occasional voice erupting in surprise, keep us shaking hands with the thief of hearts hoping the next waterfall of quartes will be ours. The plink of money disappearing into the void, the humming spin so much like the dry humorous laugh of lady luck, the pause as each number crashes into place, ring ring, "Hi, this is Michael, we met earlier, I was wondering if...". The sounds of empty hope... plink, hum, crash, ring... the sounds of someone who doesn’t know the house already won... plink, hum, crash, ring... for a moment lady luck stands their next to you, an invisible presence, plink hum, crash, ring... with a smile more elusive than the Mona Lisa, plink, hum, crash, ring... before she turns away and walks on, leaving you there. Plink, hum, crash, ring... plink, hum, crash, ring... another name, another number... plink, hum, crash, ring...
The entire site is now wider to accomodate rants! - ed.Vance
2 poems and a rant, by Michael Sherrillo
Another name, another number...
All days seem to pass the same.
One face blends into another,
No one lingers,
No one remains.
Drifting with the currents of life,
I see all, but cannot stop.
I only wish that I could find her,
Someone to float through time with me.
Another name, another number...
One less stone to hide under.
One less rock to search below.
Every leaf I turn, every number I call...
Maybe under the next I'll find that girl.
Another name, another number...
Dating... the final frontier. I'm afraid of dating, which isn't to say that I don’t date... I do, but I just don't like it.
Dating is too much like life... it represents a possible beginning, a possible end, and a present separate from the two...
It may be the beginning of something really fun, the end of something that never was, or the experience of and by itself.
I fear dating because so much depends on so little... they say love is like success, luck in both is all good timing.
I believe I may have the worst timing in the world. So many dates and people have seemed so promising, so interesting... even if they were destined not to last, even to explode in a short flight of Hindenburg proportions, what an amazing ride those few flaming falling moments would have been.
But every emotional bridge which I attempt to cross is constantly burned in the firestorm of bad timing which blazes up torching my poor heart and
sending it cascading into the crevice of loneliness again and again. Why? I used to blame myself, then women, god, karma, destiny, fate... I've raised my fist in protest of each, cursing with a pitch and fervor, with tone and words a sailor would blush to hear. But then I realized it's all luck. There is a reason luck is often referred to as a lady, the way it comes and goes, bringing you up higher than you ever though then sending you down lower than you'd ever go. Vegas is filled with tales of her fickle attention, of her moody nature. And I don't blame her for her swings, after all, women mirror the ocean, in its tidal comings and goings... life in its constant cycles of growth and death... I just get frustrated that whenever luck is a lady with me, she acts like a PMSing crack whore who just got stiffed 5 bucks. Maybe one day I'll meet someone... I figure that even if in the crap shoot of romance the house always wins, if you play enough times then eventually you'll get a lucky roll. So I sit, like a slot jockey being held up by the one-armed bandit, pumping in quarters while combinations of numbers, like so many cherries, lemons, and bar's spin by in front of me. Enough quarters... enough rolls, eventually, statistically, I have to win once... I just hope I'm not emotionally bankrupt before that one lucky pull comes. So I sit, thousands around me stuck in the same casino of loneliness, our eyes glazed from numbers and smoke, all the while, the distant din of money tinkling, or an occasional voice erupting in surprise, keep us shaking hands with the thief of hearts hoping the next waterfall of quartes will be ours. The plink of money disappearing into the void, the humming spin so much like the dry humorous laugh of lady luck, the pause as each number crashes into place, ring ring, "Hi, this is Michael, we met earlier, I was wondering if...". The sounds of empty hope... plink, hum, crash, ring... the sounds of someone who doesn’t know the house already won... plink, hum, crash, ring... for a moment lady luck stands their next to you, an invisible presence, plink hum, crash, ring... with a smile more elusive than the Mona Lisa, plink, hum, crash, ring... before she turns away and walks on, leaving you there. Plink, hum, crash, ring... plink, hum, crash, ring... another name, another number... plink, hum, crash, ring...
The entire site is now wider to accomodate rants! - ed.Vance
Early Morning Rant
by Cookie Lover 480238289839
Apparently I am supposed to post on a some what regular basis, "vote early, vote often."
Have you ever wondered how many people died trying to see what was edible? I mean back in the day no one knew what was safe to eat, someone had to try and taste it. Especially since there were most likely more plants and berries then there is now. All plants pretty much look the same to me.
If you think about it eatting is kind of gross. I mean you take bits of plant and animal tissue, sometimes break it down chemically by heat. Then you grind it with your own body fluids, and force it down your throat into a vat of stomach acid. Then is meanders thru your body only to produce... well shit.
Hmmm... makes me think that the whole Matrix thing might actually be a good idea, I guess as long as you don't know it won't hurt you. Though I am pretty sure transfer of human heat into any large amount of usable energy is not possible. Science has once again ruined our fun.
by Cookie Lover 480238289839
Apparently I am supposed to post on a some what regular basis, "vote early, vote often."
Have you ever wondered how many people died trying to see what was edible? I mean back in the day no one knew what was safe to eat, someone had to try and taste it. Especially since there were most likely more plants and berries then there is now. All plants pretty much look the same to me.
If you think about it eatting is kind of gross. I mean you take bits of plant and animal tissue, sometimes break it down chemically by heat. Then you grind it with your own body fluids, and force it down your throat into a vat of stomach acid. Then is meanders thru your body only to produce... well shit.
Hmmm... makes me think that the whole Matrix thing might actually be a good idea, I guess as long as you don't know it won't hurt you. Though I am pretty sure transfer of human heat into any large amount of usable energy is not possible. Science has once again ruined our fun.
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