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MosJan

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I want to start donating to the Armenia Fund on my own. Usually we pool money and send it all at once. but that way I only give a set amount each year. So I have an idea and I've decided to take some initiative.

 

I got a jar and every single time I get paid I'm going to put some money in it. Like 10 or 20 dollars every two weeks. If I find change on the ground or I get change for a purchase that money goes into the jar. I'm also going to spend less and find some alternative ways to make a little bit of money and put all of that into the jar too. I've already got over $50 in the jar as a starter.

 

Hopefully I'll pitch in a lot more money this year.

 

This is funny on so many levels....lol. :P

Care to share?

Edited by Zara
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Bravo ~~~ at a case like this one can only be speechless!!! :thumbup:

 

I just hope some other people that read this might decide to take their own initiative and do something extra too.

Edited by Zara
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Let's hope so Zara jan!!! You are doing something that might inspire many to do the same!!! There are people that have been doing this for so many years that they lost count!!! And there are people that can't do it but help in many other ways!!!

 

This is why we are called ARMENIANS!!!

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How could you hate your own child?

 

Son?

 

Daughter?

 

 

 

 

Or even dislike him or her?

 

 

 

 

The little being you created.

 

 

Gave life to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How could you?

 

 

 

How could you curse at your own flesh and blood?

 

Yell, scream, or hurt him or her without good reason?

 

 

 

 

How could you throw your child out of your home?

 

Pretend like he or she means nothing to you?

 

Treat them worse than you would treat a beggar on the street?

 

 

 

Like garbage.

 

 

 

 

 

 

How could you?

 

 

 

 

What will happen to your child?

 

Will he or she end up just like you?

 

 

 

 

Or worse?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I've been noticing that a lot of people that follow the "ultra super liberal" Western mentality almost always end up with screwy kids that end up with even screwier kids and so on. Today I saw a woman who hated her own son and treated him like trash. Not the first time I've witnessed this but he was only a little boy. Maybe less than 10 years old. It seemed like all he wanted from his mom was a little bit of attention even if it meant getting her angry. He probably doesn't receive a lot of attention from her.

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Eh Zara jan - it may seem to be western mentality, but it is spreading rapidly - it's the easiest way out of this screwie life...

 

EH MART ARARATS, VOR TQETSIR DO QO YERESIN, URATSRETSIR QO TSNOGHIN, U TAGHETSIR QO ZAVAKIN, VOR MORATSAR TE OVES DU, XARNETSIR TGHA - AXCHIK, POXETSIR IMASTN KYANQI, SARQETSIR DZHOXQN ASHXARI... UR MNATS? UR MNATS AYN MARTKAYNUTSYUN@, VOR LSELENQ DARER ARACH INCH LAVN U BARIER, UR MNATS AYN HRASHQNER@ VOR LSELENQ AYTQAN SHAT? CHKA... KORCHETS GNATS ASES MI PAHER KYANQI, ISK MER DARUM PATMVATS MI GRQI!!!

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NOTE: I hope I didn't make any typo's. Is there a place I can put the last one?

 

 

 

Vergissmeinnicht

 

 

Three weeks gone and the combatants gone

returning over the nightmare ground

we found the place again, and found

the soldier sprawling in the sun.

 

The frowning barrel of his gun

overshadowing. As we came on

that day, he hit my tank with one

like the entry of a demon.

 

Look. Here in the gunpit spoil

the dishonored picture of his girl

who has put: Steffi. Vergissmeinnicht.

in a copybook gothic script.

 

We see him almost with content,

abased, and seeming to have paid

and mocked at by his own equipment

that's hard and good when he's decayed.

 

But she would weep to see today

how on his skin the swart flies move;

the dust upon the paper eye

and the burst stomach like a cave.

 

For here the lover and killer are mingled

who had one body and one heart.

And death who had the soldier singled

has done the lover mortal hurt.

 

--Keith Douglas

 

NOTE: Vergissmeinnicht means forget me not in German. Steffi is a girls name.

 

 

 

 

 

Ending

 

The love we thought would never stop

now cools like a congealing chop.

The kisses that were hot as curry

are bird-pecks taken in a hurry.

The hands that held electric charges

now lie inert as four moored barges.

The feet that ran to meet a date

are running slow and running late.

The eyes that shone and seldom shut

are victims of a power cut.

The parts that then transmitted joy

are now reserved and cold and coy.

Romance, expected once to stay,

has left a note saying GONE AWAY.

--Gavin Ewart

 

Պառավի Հորտը

(1882)

 

Ձյուն էր գալիս փաթիլ – փաթիլ,

Հետն էլ անձրև կաթիլ – կաթիլ.

Այս միջոցին մի պառավ կին

Հորթ էր փնտրում դաշտի միջին:

 

Կովը եկավ տավարիցը,

Կուրծ ու ծըծեր կաթով լիքը.

«Հորթուկս ո՝ւր է», - Նա բառաչեց,

Խեղճ պառավին լացացըրեց:

 

Մինչդեռ այսպես պառավ ու’ կով

Ողբում էին լաց ու կոծով,

Հանկարծ լսվեց մի բարակ ձայն,

Կովն իմացավ, որ հորթն է այն:

 

Կովը վազեց բառաչելով,

Պառավն ետքից տընքտընքալով,

Կորած հորթը մորը գտավ:

Լիք ծըծերը բերանն առավ:

 

Ծըծեց բոլոր կաթն ու տկզեց,

Տանտիկնոջը բան չըթողեց.

Բայց պառավը այս անգամին

Սիրով ներեց չար հորթուկին:

 

--Ղազարոս Աղայան

Edited by Zara
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Offspring

 

I tried to tell her:

--------This way the twig is bent.

--------Born of my trunk and strengthened by my roots,

--------you must stretch newgrown branches

--------closer to the sun

--------than I can reach.

 

I wanted to say:

--------Extend my self to that far atmosphere

--------only my dreams allow.

 

But the twig broke,

and yesterday I saw her

walking down an unfamiliar street,

--------feet confident

--------face slanted upward toward a threatening sky,

and

--------she was smiling

--------and she was

--------her very free,

--------her very individual,

--------unpliable

--------own.

 

--Naomi Long Madgett

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“Life isn’t about where you begin.

 

It’s about where and how you end.”

 

 

 

That’s what my mom always tells me.

 

And I always listen.

 

 

 

 

I’ve been centering my life around those few words.

 

Telling myself that it’s not important that other people are bragging about themselves now. It's about how other people brag about them later.

 

That is, if they brag at all.

 

 

 

 

 

But I’ve been thinking about those words recently.

 

 

 

 

In a different way.

 

 

 

 

 

Does it matter how you were raised?

 

Where you came from?

 

If your family was wealthy?

 

Or poor?

 

 

 

Does your background

 

 

 

 

your beginning

 

 

 

 

 

matter at all?

 

 

 

 

 

 

What about your end.

 

 

 

Does it matter if you’re rich when you leave?

 

Or dirt poor?

 

How about middle class?

 

 

Does it matter what your job was?

 

Or if you even had a job?

 

 

Is it important that people remember you?

 

Who you were?

 

What you did in your lifetime?

 

 

 

It seems trivial.

 

 

Almost.

 

 

Maybe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But it makes me feel

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

small.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Insignificant.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unimportant.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Funny thing is I haven’t even started thinking about how small people are in comparisons to this universe.

 

 

 

Or even compared to time.

 

 

 

 

 

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Funny how we compare ourselves to our surroundings in a constant effort to understand what IS or what WE are.

 

Maybe were not meant to understand, just to exist love and be happy. Or maybe that's not even meant to exist either. What if happiness was just an illusion of something we all want, a feeling every human being thrives for. Like an addiction to a drug.

 

Why do you question everything Zara, I read your writings and I see myself trying to question things as much as you do, then I find myself tired all of a sudden. Tired from asking and trying to answer questions no man or woman has yet to answer.

 

I wake up and I'm happy that I've awaken, happy that I can move and breathe and completely capable to fully function another day.

 

Everything else has been questioned for centuries and more, with no answers, just theories.

 

Just felt like adding my two-cents into your thoughts and corner, hope you don’t mind.

 

Peace.

Edited by LK82
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Funny how we compare ourselves to our surroundings in a constant effort to understand what IS or what WE are.

 

Maybe were not meant to understand, just to exist love and be happy. Or maybe that's not even meant to exist either. What if happiness was just an illusion of something we all want, a feeling every human being thrives for. Like an addiction to a drug.

 

Why do you question everything Zara, I read your writings and I see myself trying to question things as much as you do, then I find myself tired all of a sudden. Tired from asking and trying to answer questions no man or woman has yet to answer.

Is anything really "meant" to be? To exist? Or is it a creation? A sum of things squished together? An accident?

 

The reason why I question myself, other people, and the world that surrounds us is because I want to live. To view things with appreciation. To not live in a blur. I don't want to wake up everyday to a routine. To have everything planned out for me so that I just follow until I die. I don't want to just eat, sleep, have sex, and go to work. I think because I have a mind of my own. Because I'm curious. Human.

I wake up and I'm happy that I've awaken, happy that I can move and breathe and completely capable to fully function another day.

Exactly. I don't want to just "function another day." Just have my day and get it over with.

Everything else has been questioned for centuries and more, with no answers, just theories.

 

Just felt like adding my two-cents into your thoughts and corner, hope you don’t mind.

 

Peace.

I don't mind. It's nice to have replies every now and then.

 

"Men who believe themselves to be good, who do not search their own souls, most often commit the worst atrocities. A man who sees himself as evil will restrain himself. It is only when we do evil in the belief that we do good that we pursue it wholeheartedly." --David Farland

 

I put this quote up a little earlier on.

 

I don't want to just "be ok" with everything. To soak but not process or register. Or at least try to.

 

I want to wonder. To be curious. To think. To appreciate.

 

 

To be conscious.

Edited by Zara
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I share similar sentiments about self knowing, understanding, and the pursuit to knowing others.

 

I exist regardless of where, or who I am. I’m here speaking to you and you are there speaking to me.

Who I become is the product of my conscience mind; the question’s we ask are part of the life we choose to live. The question of trying to understand why we are here and why we exist.

 

I give thanks every day I awake and am able to operate, not because it’s part of a routine, instead its how I begin to understand my day, before anything I am human, before anything else I would like to be a fully functioning and healthy human.

 

I use to think a lot in the subject’s of reason to why things are the way they are, whether it be in the personal arena or generally related to life.

 

But once I got to world corruption I realized that it wouldn’t make a difference of how I felt about life, because life would go on with me in it or without. The only way I could continue with life the way I would like to see it, would be for me to remove myself from the every-day normal existence of it, and place myself into a sanctuary where the world is removed from me, but not I from the world.

 

Until then, I’m just a person like everyone else, sometimes I choose to think about things others don’t. Sometimes I like to continue my day with a happy thought of waking up healthy. Other times I find myself knee-deep in situations or subjects.

 

If you’re questions help you feel better, then more power to you, after-all what’s life without reason. :)

 

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But it makes me feel

 

small.

 

Insignificant.

 

Unimportant.

 

Funny thing is I haven’t even started thinking about how small people are in comparisons to this universe.

 

Or even compared to time.

Nice thought Zara. This reminded me of the Pale Blue Dot quote from Carl Sagan who said:

 

"Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam."

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If you’re questions help you feel better, then more power to you, after-all what’s life without reason. :)

I never said the questions make me feel better.

 

 

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Nice thought Zara. This reminded me of the Pale Blue Dot quote from Carl Sagan who said:

 

"Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam."

 

 

Thanks.

 

There's something else I've been thinking about but I don't really want to write about anything today. Not a good day.

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We Real Cool

 

THE POOL PLAYERS.

SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL.

 

 

 

 

We real cool. We

Left school. We

 

Lurk late. We

Strike straight. We

 

Sing sin. We

Thin gin. We

 

Jazz June. We

Die soon.

 

--Gwendolyn Brooks

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Zara jan, welcome back!!! Where have you been???

 

Around. I've been very busy lately.

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Zar jan, hima vor mi ban grem, gnalues u mi erku orits patasxanes???

 

Mi erku or kspases? Im patasxan@ patrast chi.

 

 

I left right after I posted the previous poem.

 

vontses asa tesnenq, inchoves zbaghvats???

 

Lav em.

 

Lots of things. Both expected and unexpected.

 

 

 

 

Edited by Zara
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