it aint all that bad – the sun will come up tommorrow, the wind will blow and the things will be, as they have been for years. they will continue, long after you, and now i think its time to realise that nothing will change this, and this is life. So what could possibly be …
I am the happiest when I am the saddest.
these places I have been, these poeple I have seen, these winds I have felt, these sounds I have witnessed – have all gone. I have not found my fondness in these places so plain…the desert is cold at night and warm at day – they are empty and the storms know no mercy when …
for all those. for all that. for everyone, my thanks for your sights, my mind might, today explode into the sands of the sahara – tell me where the corners of this place are. I stagger like a injured soldier in this space of no walls – only the spotlight that holds my tightly. The …
You are who you are because you function under a false sense of confidence. Only this I know, that because of this, you remain as a unreliable and untrusted source in my books. You live in the limelight of others and sparkle when they do, and when left alone you yern for this… I’m sorry …
My need to be unique, the thrill of understanding, that however I do anything, only I will realize the true worth in. The need to distinct, to isolate in purpose, to stand ones ground – to fight the cause of mediocrity and to define the cause of incredibility – this is the need to be …
I’m statisfied, I’m finding myself , the closer I get the further away I seem to be. I’m not there to be your friend, and It seems that this doesn’t matter to me, so it makes no difference. I’m here to be me, I’m not here to be your friend – I’m happy to be …
Never liked it – but never disliked it either. I’m in the level of greyness that takes nor recives – runs nor walks. Undicided and unsure and not willing to choose. I ind myself a obstacle that holds no duty these days – no yes’ and no no’ What am I here for, I tell …
today I was writing you a thought, it twisted my soul and tried my life’s facination. I’m writing you a song, to tell you in sweet rhymes these things I have found. I’m writing strong, these feelings in this book, my depression reigns. The force of this pen has become less as my hands bleed …
Frustration is prevalent in my mind, like a intruder, deep working hard in my mind – unwelcome, yet invited… The pain of realisation, the slow drift displacment of comfort. I’m so yet I’m less so – and this I know and it breaks me inside. How fragile am I? Can one destroy oneself? Do I …