Dolce Vita's Opiate

blood harvest

dolcevitaopium — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 02:50:46 +0000

The rancid decay of life lingered in the air. There was slime against the walls were not of life but that of death. Membranous and gross air enveloped her and the room she was contained in. The metal on her hands were no longer cool, closer to scalding in fact, from being fired many times. The dark was suffocating as everything in her life has become just that. She turned around with a jolt, she heard something, she cannot see but she swore she heard something. She looked around and through the grated door ahead of her. The gun was the only thing secure right now since its her only means of survival. Out of here, as soon as possible. Away from the death that gripped the city. Slowly she approached the red metal door, the only thing keeping her and those undead apart. Her calculated steps were almost silent, afraid that it might trigger an outpour of those things, wanting her flesh, to be torn apart or eaten. She would much rather pull the trigger herself than let her be caught by them…..

ahhh.. another day of playing left for dead…..

fin

dolcevitaopium — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 06:31:20 +0000

gone are the days that i put others before myself. boyfriends of the past have failed me. friends who i thought will stand by me drove crucifixes through me. family ate me alive. only two people care about me the way i should be cared about, who accept me, no questions asked.

its time to consolidate feelings and clear my life of clutter.

i am happy now.

to those who were with me through the good and left my side when things got bad, you will not share the best that is to come.

the heretic queen by michelle moran…

dolcevitaopium — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 12:28:09 +0000

was disappointing. two stars out of five. one, because it lured me to finish the book because i frankly didnt know much about Queen Nefertari, and finished it for curiosities sake. the second: it had an abundance of my favorite themes: ancient egypt (duh) and the human flaw of insecurity.

I was in a dire hurry when I rashly picked up this book on my way out of barnes and nobles. I had a $25 gift card from Anthonys mother and brother that I wanted to impulsively spend right there and then. The title heretic queen caught my attention as I was trying to catch up to the mother as she walked to the open register to make her purchase, and of course heretic and queen combined with the illustration of an egyptian symbol of royalty immediately clicked in my mind as Queen Nefertiti. I grabbed it without thinking twice to be handed to my mom along with that gift card. Little did I know that I will regret the purchase when I got home.

It was utter disappointment, naturally, to find out that I got the almost namesake of the one truly Im interested in. Nefertiti has always fascinated me and there are some days that I secretly want to be her. Ok its no longer a secret but who cares. But of course I want to be more like Cleopatra over her any day. Regardless of my upset, I opened the book under the urging of Anthony, who frankly I felt didnt want to trek back to barnes and nobles to exchange the disappointing purchase. so with a reluctant heart, I convinced myself “hey its egypt, it has to be good!” Boy did I delude myself on this one.

The plot is too simplistic. It was like watching a cheap soap opera and their cheesy immediate focus on each characters faces as they unveil a plot for vengeance in an attempt to captivate the audience, with a threatening background music to heighten the effect. All in all its laughable. The gist is that Nefertari was the egyptian court underdog who was cast aside and picked on as a youngling. Then someone wanted to use her to their advantage so they whisked the wild extra princess away to be groomed and bred into their puppet that will pass for a queen. Its like Memoirs of a Geisha, only it didnt have the charm of the story nor the writing abilities. blah blah blah, plot plot plot. She becomes queen. If i didnt have such an interest in egypt, I would have ran back to barnes, which by the way is literally 2 blocks from my house, to exchange this one as fast as I returned Kevin Tredeaus “Natural Cures.” Everything seemed laid out before you despite of the authors obvious attempt to make everything seem so cunning, calculative, dangerous, and manipulative. Details were overseen left and right, she focused on painting the more quiet environment while she completely withdrew from any attempts to describe the more important details of the war, the suffering and confrontation. That is when Moran focuses on the verbal lines and neglects the surroundings and gestures which would have heightened these “could’ve been important” scenes. All the intent of each character shone through, none were hidden. Every single thing about the book was so damn predictable that its so shameful that its actually about court rivalry and plotting!!! The antagonists were clear cut antagonists, and so are the protagonists. Everyones transparent. The lines are equally as predictable per characters personality/role. Nefertari’s plight for revenge became so redundant and exhausting and at these points I just want to give up because really, how many times can you create detailed scenes of the protagonist vowing revenge while keeping her patient silence for everything to unveil “when the right time comes?” Damn that was painful! It was a series of tiresome blah blah blah. Many a times I caught myself prying the book from being so close to my face with disgust because it is constantly reminding me of a cheap soap opera with that “cheesy reckoning confrontation wherein the antagonists were discovered and the protagonist emerges as the victor” to boot. Ugh. Anyway, it couldnt all be bad since I had the sanity to finish the book. What kept me sane through this book of an ordeal was that as much as there were exhausting vows of crushing her enemies, there were equally as many times that Moran captivated me with her ability to paint the insecurities and justify “jealous wife” acts. As a woman myself, I can understand why and how each situation in the book could have incurred such emotions from the female characters, particularly Iset, one of the pharaoh’s wives. They seemed genuine, as though Moran had experienced them herself, which was likely because what woman hasnt. It is commendable that she was able to grasp these feelings and convey them to me, as her reader. That, that humanistic quality which I look for in literature, was her saving grace, maybe the reason that she has two stars because of one. Because goddamn, without it, “the Heretic Queen” would have been in the ranks of Mr. Tredeau’s crap.

Im quite sure that Nefertari is a very interesting historical figure as all those monuments wont be erected if she wasnt. Its unfortunate that Moran did not do her justice in her novel. I finished the book in 4 days, not because I was so allured by it and cannot put it down. It was because I wanted to expedite the process of going through the wearisome parts in search for something that will make me say “ahh… theres some inkling of legit literature…”

It also turns out that Moran wrote a novel about the one I was actually interested in, Nefertiti.

The effort is appreciated, but no thanks.

cured?

dolcevitaopium — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 04:47:59 +0000

my writing tourettes has left the building. where that fervent passion hath gone? adieu adieu, sorry juliet, but parting is purely sorrow in this case. i love writing. it encapsulates my soul in each letter i jot down. within me is an ocean of emotions that needs an outlet and not being inspired to write is purely stagnation. none of us want that….. i shouldnt speak for all, I DONT WANT THAT.

this break has so far not been a real break for me. broke. brought down by the impetuous school. balled and chained into my home by my garrison of parents. abandoned by friends. the only thing so far that i am thankful for having in my life is the presence of the man whose eyes laugh louder than the voice. anthony lara makes me feel special and blessed on a daily basis. i’ve said it before and you better believe it. i am a very happy human being and so far my existence has been defined by really odd adversities, ones that individuals under the same demographics as i am wont even fathom in their wildest dreams. ok, thats obviously an exaggeration but whats life without that little indulgence? heheh. im ok with that because i’ve so far dealt with it pretty well if you ask me…. the month of december has not been my friend. which is very odd. oh well. life has its ups and downs, but i smile at the thought that lara lara isnt as far fetched as he was in my adolescent years…. ahhh high school.

im listening to wild world by cat stevens. its aw-some-ness.

i wish im able to write again…. and soon…

Sunrise in a moment…

dolcevitaopium — Fri, 12 Dec 2008 19:50:25 +0000

Her leg jerked. He jerked too. They seemed to be the one and same entity as they laid about their cozy bed, limbs intertwined, unsure which belongs to who. Her hand held his, warm as it rose and fell on his breathing chest and in each direction it moved was a constant reminder to her that he is there, still existing. His arm had her hair matted all over, most of it stuck under it. She could not move exactly because of that. Not that she could not actually, she was just far too comfortable to move an inch from her seemingly contorted posture. He was equally contorted, but none of all these mattered to any of them because in each misplaced limb and each muscle strained was a point of contact between their naked skin. Where it begins to be the others, they do not know any longer but the fact of the wonderful matter is that they are a unit, even their breathing were synchronized. That jerk of the leg somewhat awakened both their consciousness, somewhere in between sleep and wake, only somewhat. His fingers gave hers a squeeze, but more of a slight pressure than a squeeze, intended to remind her that he is still there, or maybe even to remind himself of her existence. The two remained unmoving despite the sensation of strain, maybe even slight discomfort, but none made a move. That will only mean that at some point they will detach, one limb at a time, one part of their skin will be cooled because of losing the other source of warmth. They, even in their somnolent state, refuse to have any of that. Her breathing became slower in her falling back asleep, he noticed and took follow of this lead. Tomorrow, they both thought, I will wake up to that smile.

Evening

dolcevitaopium — Sun, 07 Dec 2008 03:29:18 +0000

Her hearts racing. There was only enough light to illuminate the more prominent features of his face, leaving the deeper ridges and curvatures in the dark. Within her mind she filled in these gaps, not needing anymore light to decipher the rest. His forehead, his nose, his cheekbone, and parts of his jaw line. He parted his mouth to say something but nothing came out, perhaps he was afraid to ruin that moment with any words that need not be expressed. There was a silent understanding between the two breathing bodies on that bed that night. Arms enveloped the other, breathing almost the same air in the closeness of their faces. Close, but not quite meeting, and they are okay with that. The void in between them enables the electricity to exist in another dimension besides within them, somehow amplifying the voltage of the connection. That void exists but it contains all of the essential nothingness wherein something is accentuated. She reached for his gaped mouth to feel Gods ingenious minimalist creation. These lips she felt were able to convey so much and made her feel so much more when in fact they were just rosy cushions of flesh. But when they meet hers they become another planet wherein she is lost but enthralled, dying slowly but thriving from the sensation of being elsewhere. They laid unmoving as thoughts go through their heads, not one specifically or more important than the other, just thoughts of no importance. Thoughts. She does not want to go back to Earth, so she wallowed in that little world of theirs with that void of perfection mediating the conduction of emotions between them. Her heart is about to burst into a billion miniscule pieces.

Keep it, its yours…

dolcevitaopium — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 06:08:11 +0000

Have you ever liked someone so much that their presence in your life changes the way you see things? So much so that a simple text message letting you know that youre thought about makes the worst day bright? Liking someone enough that you cannot stop talking about that person with anyone that you come across, these people commenting on how smitten you are….? I came across him who owns my heart today. He smiles and Im immediately elated because I caused him to smile. There are times that my chest can burst in happiness that I have him in my life, looking forward to see him again. Im mesmerized by his gorgeous eyes because they are able to express so much at certain times. I remember the days when the smile on my face could not be wiped off, regardless of the circumstances, from either remembering the previous evening or in anticipation of tonight when I get to see him again. Have you felt those butterflies that everyone speaks off? That feeling that I thought was only felt during ones pubescent years. That nauseating nervousness because there is just no expressing how much you feel for that person and there is no adequate explanation for it so you end up picking on your fingers as a means of alleviating some of that anxiety. Have you liked someone so much that all logic falls away and you are left only with raw emotions building up each time you think of him, or see him, or hear him, or smell him? Have you had the urge to keep your face close to his, because it feels right that its that close so you are able to smell and hear every breath he takes? Has liking someone caused you to be grossly sentimental about certain places that you refuse to go to those places without him holding your hand? Do you find yourself somewhere in a beautiful dream with that one person when youre supposed to be listening to a lecture? Have you wanted someone so bad that every moment spent with him is ruminatively played over and over in your head because he just wont leave your mind. So bad that you delude yourself that if you just can visualize him hard enough then he wont disperse into a dream whence he came from. I found a man who inspired me. A man who let me see the magnificence of the poetic love that writers from all ages have expressed, enabling me to feel that enigmatic emotion, enabling me to understand what it is to give someone a part of you that cannot be taken back. He has it. He will keep it.

key

dolcevitaopium — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 22:13:17 +0000

her skin tingled. her eyes welled up. she breathed out in agony. the key in his hand meant everything that was, the very thing that kept her hoping that it could still be. but now he walked away with a goodbye, with that key in his hand.

summer

dolcevitaopium — Sun, 02 Nov 2008 14:15:54 +0000

i cant find peace, no coherence, afraid to stop for a moment because then i might end up alone somewhere with you. driving as you kiss my arm. laying out on the sand in the middle of the night. walking off a wonderful dinner. just the two of us.

lost

dolcevitaopium — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 00:55:30 +0000

They say think before you act. What constitutes maturity? Is it the ability to rationalize situations and your role in it? Where do I place myself in the world? What is the purpose of being here? I am a catalyst for change, I believe. One day I’ll look back and be able to say, “I did good, I left my mark in this world.” But now, what do I do? I am so lost. Confused. Where do I want to go? My optimism enables me to get up every morning, no odds will bring me down. Think before you act. How do you discern which action is good or which actions will change your life for the worse. Everyday you deal with decision making, every one of those are potentially life altering, every single detail possibly the cause of your demise. Think before you act, what are the possible consequences. How do you know when walking away is the best in the long run, when you need to just cut your losses and turn your back on the one thing that made you feel alive. Be pragmatic, think before you act. Adulthood. I dont know if I want to grow up. Move past the pain. I’ve done it before. Can I handle this the second time around?