džulory ladžala: Archive

džulory ladžala

December 2010

“Though it can be written, It cannot be captured. Belonging to everything, It owns nothing. Always giving, never taking, unnoticed, unexplained, it benefits everyone. Music evokes what has always been, helping us to come to terms with ourselves.” ~ J. Ortiz

“The two ends of a pencil are Shakti and Shiva. Writing and rubbing out, we want balanced lives. Show me the nub of a pencil with eraser still fresh and I’ll show you mindless charm. But the unused length of a pencil with an eraser worn to the rim is some critical soul still waiting for perfect inspiration. Both ends must diminish in harmony and die like lovers with the...

I’m tired and I’m sad and I’m missing more than I am missed. Memories haunt me, old faces taunt me. Bitter smoke from all those burned bridges snakes down my throat and coils in my lungs. Let it go. But I can’t. I grip it all so tight even as it’s searing my skin. Puckered veins. Silent eyes. I need a sign.

아~ 너무 많이 성가신 친구가 있어… 짜증나…. 더 이상 참을 수가 없어… 변명거리를 대 봐요… 그런 거 잘하잖아…. 한번 마음껏 해 봐~! 꿈 깨~! 무책임한 소리 좀 하지 말아요.. 지금 너한테 얘기하고 있잖아~! 알겠니??? 진짜야~!

Anonymous asked: Your teardrops catch all the colours of the world in them. Strangers catch a glimpse of them and see flowers reflected. You are beauty.

Anonymous asked: Your teardrops catch all the colours of the world in them. Strangers catch a glimpse of them and see flowers reflected. You are beauty.

Une danse est un poème. Je ne vis plus, j’assiste à la vie. J’ai tout vu. Tout. On veut trop être quelqu’un. On nous apprend à vivre quand la vie est passée… Tu ne vivrais pas, si tu ne croyais pas. Chacun croit.Tout est vérité ; tout est mensonge.

Asvina/Teardrops

I don’t have any answers. Only questions. So many unanswered questions. I will be, eventually, something of substance. I am a refugee, displaced, homeless. Despite this place, these roots, these tethered wings. Nothing can replace the feeling of belonging. Knowing I can never go home fills me with an ache like broken glass. People don’t understand and I am tired of explaining. I am...

I hate bullshit like this. Because they steal, they’re gypsies. Because they travel and steal, they’re definitely gypsies. Not only are they gypsies, but they’re “a large criminal group of traveling gypsies who preyed on elderly people.” Better make sure Grandma is safe—I’m gonna run out in a bit, obviously I’m either going to scam someone’s...

staticnonsense-deactivated20110 asked: You are not alone.

Because I know from experience the darkness that stirs in one's gut, that pain and suffering of having an entire part of you erased as you struggle with who you are, with what everyone else is telling you what you are...

You are not alone.

Your post on Dec. 9 made me tear up. Because dear fucking god, does it feel true.

It engulfs me, slowly, languidly, crawling its way into the empty cloisters of my mind. Ricochet, drum-beat heart calling to be seen. Tenuously grasping at each drifting snowflake. Blanketed, but still not warm. Alone. Bitter-sweet words slither down my throat and curl in my lungs like so many dead leaves. Suffocating. Silent.

“People go on saying that they want to become happy, but I rarely come across a...”

– Osho (via oceanofmind)

I used to think that I just didn’t fit. That perhaps there wasn’t anywhere for me to ‘be’. Being half of something is really just being not fully anything. My father made the choice to leave the tribe. He made the choice to walk away from that life—to try and do something good for his children. There were silent undertones to every conversation. Always the pleas in my...

colored queer waters: I think everyone should have... →

aknowledgeofloss: a-n-a-r-c-h-a: navigatethestream: a-n-a-r-c-h-a: mohandaskgandhi: No one would complain ever again and there would be no poverty or disease. Because the lower, working and underclasses are there to sharpen your moral development. Okay. the people of slums and homeless shelters are not there to serve a reminder as to how fortunate anybody is. that is not their purpose...

J’ai réinventé le passé pour voir la beauté...

I’m apparently the wrong half of just about everything. The wrong half for everyone. My great-Aunt said I was too “white”, with guarded eyes and flick of the wrist. My mother said I was too “gypsy”.. with that lilting tone of “you’re not good enough”. I was raised outside of both groups—neither gadje nor Rom. Not anything. Not good enough for...

So, I have been sick a lot lately. Swollen glands blah blah. I had to miss some classes for various things. So, since I was feeling REALLY bad at the beginning of this week, I asked the head of the History Dept to let my professors know I was out (instead of sitting emailing one by one). One of my professors is … pretty much useless. She’s a million years old, bitter, incompetent and...

Anonymous asked: will i have my family again