One
I told you I didnt know the reason - When I know every reason
I told you I was perfectly fine - When I was falling apart
I said yes - When so much more was going through my head
I listened to your every word without opinion - When I had everything to say to you
I sat there night after night - And didnt spill a word
I honestly told you the truth - Just not all of it
I told you I knew what I wanted - When I was so confused
I told you I trusted you - I barely trust myself
I told you I wanted to spend time with you - When I really just wanted to keep an eye on you
I told you it didn't bother me - When it ate away at me for days
I told you its gone - It never left
Two
I told you I didnt know - When I was so sure
I told you I did know - When I knew .. it wasnt true
I told you I loved you - It was a slip of the tongue - a bad one
Three, Four, Five
I did it to you too - Through my actions
I tricked you into my games - When all they are is a facade
Six, Seven
I told you what I saw was fake - It was more real than anything
Eight
I told you everything - Except one important detail
Nine
I told you I couldnt - When I could
I didnt lie to you - But I didnt tell you the truth
Ten
I told you it was the truth - When it was the biggest lie I've ever seen
I told you it was sincere - When it was more fake than I could imagine
I told you every word was meant - When they were all lies
I told you it was real - When it was only real to you
I told you thats how it really was - When it was nothing like that
I told you they were wrong - When they told the truth
I've lied to you more than anyone
[I told you what I felt] [That was real]
[I told you my deepest darkest secret] [I couldnt make that up if I tried]
[I told you I didnt regret it] [I dont]
[I told you I cried] [I really did]
[I told you there's nothing to wait for] [Thats never been so real until tonight]
[I told you I want you to be happy] [I do]
[I told you my biggest fear] [That's still there]
[I acted on my feelings] [Those are real]
[I told you everything that happened] [And didnt leave out the tiniest detail]
[I told you eternity] [I mean eternity]
[I told you I couldnt survive without you] [I almost died while you were gone]
[I told you I was always here for you] [Don't ever think different]
But I've left so much out. You have the full story - with many missing pages
Friday, July 3, 2009
Forgiveness
for·give·ness Audio Help /fərˈgɪvnɪs/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[fer-giv-nis] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
1. act of forgiving; state of being forgiven.
2. disposition or willingness to forgive.
3. compassionate feelings that support a willingness to forgive
4. the act of excusing a mistake or offense
So many definitions.
All meaning the same thing
.. What if I cant
What if I've tried - for my own sake
And it didn't work?
What if we dont all have selective memories and remember most everything
What do I do then?
I guess I have to live with it.
How easy it sounds.
*sigh*
Its funny.
One is so quick to forgive
Until they start to doubt they're feelings
What if these feelings - got confused with another?
Something completely different
But with the same amount of - if not more - compassion
And when that feeling goes away - or simmers
You realize it was a mistake.
What do you do then?
For one has forgiven in time, and one forgave in haste. The one in time be its truest form. The one in haste, was nothing if not mistaken. One in haste does not completely comprehend, how one in time, managed to fulfill said task. For one in haste, believes he hath not, and now realizes, said mistake
[Now if you dont mind, the embers glow, and my battle begins again..]
–noun
1. act of forgiving; state of being forgiven.
2. disposition or willingness to forgive.
3. compassionate feelings that support a willingness to forgive
4. the act of excusing a mistake or offense
So many definitions.
All meaning the same thing
Forgive and Forget
.. What if I cant
What if I've tried - for my own sake
And it didn't work?
What if we dont all have selective memories and remember most everything
What do I do then?
I guess I have to live with it.
How easy it sounds.
*sigh*
Its funny.
One is so quick to forgive
Until they start to doubt they're feelings
3. compassionate feelings that support a willingness to forgive
What if these feelings - got confused with another?
Something completely different
But with the same amount of - if not more - compassion
And when that feeling goes away - or simmers
You realize it was a mistake.
What do you do then?
For one has forgiven in time, and one forgave in haste. The one in time be its truest form. The one in haste, was nothing if not mistaken. One in haste does not completely comprehend, how one in time, managed to fulfill said task. For one in haste, believes he hath not, and now realizes, said mistake
[Now if you dont mind, the embers glow, and my battle begins again..]
I Wish You Could Understand.
If only you could've seen the intensity in her eyes.
If only you could've heard the passion she put into her words.
If only you could've felt how much truth was behind what she'd just told you.
Maybe you'd understand
The intensity in her eyes - burned with the light from an infinite amount of suns.
The passion put into her words - was more passion than you'd ever read about in any book, ever seen in any movie, ever experienced in your lifetime.
The amount of truth she put behind the words - Would've put the man who never lied in his life, to shame. Would've completely corrupted any lie detector machine, because it does not show that amount of truth
When she said forever [She meant it]
When she said eternity [She finally fully understood the meaning of the word]
This is how your life is going to go.
This is how its going to stay
She has good reason.
Trust her - even if she doesnt you.
"Forever" was up to you.
Now its up to her
[If only you could have been there]
If only you could've heard the passion she put into her words.
If only you could've felt how much truth was behind what she'd just told you.
Maybe you'd understand
The intensity in her eyes - burned with the light from an infinite amount of suns.
The passion put into her words - was more passion than you'd ever read about in any book, ever seen in any movie, ever experienced in your lifetime.
The amount of truth she put behind the words - Would've put the man who never lied in his life, to shame. Would've completely corrupted any lie detector machine, because it does not show that amount of truth
When she said forever [She meant it]
When she said eternity [She finally fully understood the meaning of the word]
This is how your life is going to go.
This is how its going to stay
She has good reason.
Trust her - even if she doesnt you.
"Forever" was up to you.
Now its up to her
[If only you could have been there]
My Kerosene Lantern
The battle of an Angel.
Another one.
But this battle.
It isnt against my opposser's
Its against myself.
Its a battle of ying and yang.
Black and white.
Night and Day.
I havent tried running from it.
For I know its pointless.
It will come to catch up to me.
It will chase me down.
Hunt me.
Until it finds me.
So I face it.
I face it head on.
But it confuses me.
And starts a war inside of me.
A war that I cant seem to win.
And Im battling myself!
I think I finally have it figured out.
I know who you are.
I know what you're about.
I know what kind of person you really are
I know how you work.
I know how you function.
I know what you're truly after.
And I despise you
But as the fire disappears.
I realize the battle is not over.
For I begin to battle again.
I am still aware,
of what kind of person you are.
What you really want.
Who you really are
But I feel this longing to be near you.
I have this longing to help you on your way.
Stop you from stumbling.
Make sure you dont go down the wrong path.
.. again.
I want to stop you from making your same mistakes.
Save you from that pain again.
Same others from the pain you inflicted upon them.
But I cant do that!
For I know who you truly are!
And I battle violently with myself.
Such a helpless cause.
I try to hold onto the feeling as the embers glow.
Instead of just when the fire burns bright.
But I start to hate myself!
And I begin to hate you!
I hate myself for wanting to hold onto that feeling.
But I want to despise you.
It would end the battle!
It would save me!
How selfish I am
The one thing,
that fuels my demise.
I love it,
for giving me that fuel.
And I hate it,
for giving me that fuel.
But it works.
All I have to do is go to it.
And I hate you.
I hate you to the core.
All my passion goes into my anger.
And I like it.
.. Yet I hate it.
And this thing.
I think I would destroy it - Were it not my life
I would crush in the palm of my hand - Were it not what keeps me living
I would absolutely obliterate it! - Were it not what I cannot survive without
But its the same thing over and over again.
As the embers burn.
I go to this thing.
I go to it to hate you.
I go to it to fuel my anger.
So I can sustain that feeling.
I go to it,
because I yearn to.
It happens so quickly.
I begin to hate you within seconds.
The words just jump out at me.
And my passion burns.
It burns so intensely you'd think the fire was lit.
But its still only the embers glowing.
I try to get rid of my passion.
Get it all out.
I try.
I try as hard as I can.
It never works!
But before long, the fire is rekindled.
And I dont have to fight for that feeling.
It comes on its own.
Its easier,
with the fire burning.
This battle is so filled with lies.
But the lies make me smile
The lies that keep the embers glowing.
If only you could see me as the embers glow.
But you never will.
For you fuel the fire
Another one.
But this battle.
It isnt against my opposser's
Its against myself.
Its a battle of ying and yang.
Black and white.
Night and Day.
I havent tried running from it.
For I know its pointless.
It will come to catch up to me.
It will chase me down.
Hunt me.
Until it finds me.
So I face it.
I face it head on.
But it confuses me.
And starts a war inside of me.
A war that I cant seem to win.
And Im battling myself!
I think I finally have it figured out.
I know who you are.
I know what you're about.
I know what kind of person you really are
I know how you work.
I know how you function.
I know what you're truly after.
And I despise you
But as the fire disappears.
I realize the battle is not over.
For I begin to battle again.
I am still aware,
of what kind of person you are.
What you really want.
Who you really are
But I feel this longing to be near you.
I have this longing to help you on your way.
Stop you from stumbling.
Make sure you dont go down the wrong path.
.. again.
I want to stop you from making your same mistakes.
Save you from that pain again.
Same others from the pain you inflicted upon them.
But I cant do that!
For I know who you truly are!
And I battle violently with myself.
Such a helpless cause.
I try to hold onto the feeling as the embers glow.
Instead of just when the fire burns bright.
But I start to hate myself!
And I begin to hate you!
I hate myself for wanting to hold onto that feeling.
But I want to despise you.
It would end the battle!
It would save me!
How selfish I am
The one thing,
that fuels my demise.
I love it,
for giving me that fuel.
And I hate it,
for giving me that fuel.
But it works.
All I have to do is go to it.
And I hate you.
I hate you to the core.
All my passion goes into my anger.
And I like it.
.. Yet I hate it.
And this thing.
I think I would destroy it - Were it not my life
I would crush in the palm of my hand - Were it not what keeps me living
I would absolutely obliterate it! - Were it not what I cannot survive without
But its the same thing over and over again.
As the embers burn.
I go to this thing.
I go to it to hate you.
I go to it to fuel my anger.
So I can sustain that feeling.
I go to it,
because I yearn to.
It happens so quickly.
I begin to hate you within seconds.
The words just jump out at me.
And my passion burns.
It burns so intensely you'd think the fire was lit.
But its still only the embers glowing.
I try to get rid of my passion.
Get it all out.
I try.
I try as hard as I can.
It never works!
But before long, the fire is rekindled.
And I dont have to fight for that feeling.
It comes on its own.
Its easier,
with the fire burning.
This battle is so filled with lies.
But the lies make me smile
The lies that keep the embers glowing.
If only you could see me as the embers glow.
But you never will.
For you fuel the fire
A Tree At 2 AM
Have you ever listened to a song so much, that you begin to lose track of where it ends? and where it begins?
You know, you just put it on repeat on your Ipod, or stereo, or computer, or MP3 player, and eventually, it just becomes .. immortal, I suppose. It just never ends, its this continuous train of the same notes, the same lyrics, at the exact same pitch in the exact same pattern.
I've done it :)
It wasnt even a song that had any particular history to me. It wasnt even a song that I knew every lyric to. It really hadnt even been on my Ipod for that long. But, it played at the right time, and gave me the right inspiration. So I kept pressing the back button on my Ipod so it played over and over again.
Around the fourth time through I remembered you can put your Ipod on repeat ;)
[Gimme a break, it was late, and I was tired - and blonde as always (A) *accepts Kit-Kat*]
So that song continued playing, it played through my whole night.
I had originally just planned to fall asleep to it, let it play through the night, maybe seep into my dreams.
But I dont dream much, just who I am.
Dont get me wrong, Im not complaining, not dreaming spares you from a lot of things. I am saved from the nightmares that haunt you 'till you wake in a cold sweat. I am saved from the dreams that confuse you and 'cause you to think about them for days. I am saved from those dreams that are so vivid and real while you dream them, but once you wake you can just barely remember it, and it annoys you to the core. I am also saved from those dreams, that you'd swear were real! You'd stake your life upon it! I guess in a way Im saved from a death wish .. heh'.
Not to say that I havent had one of all of those.
I've had a few nightmares - but not anywhere near close to the numbers most humans get. [And not nearly so terrifying]
I've had a few of those thinker dreams - they usually dont confuse me as much as you'd expect them to.
I've had a few of those dreams that I can barely remember - those, do annoy me to the core, probably just as much as you.
And I've had many of those dreams that you'd swear were real - In the dream , I even told myself it was a dream, tried to convince myself it was just a dream, but when I didnt wake, I believed it was real.
And then I woke.
So, I am throughly spared, having my mind work the way it does.
My subconscious appears to come out in different forms.
My music,
. My writing,
.. My drawings.
There's one piece in particular I've written, that I still dont understand.
Im sure I will someday - maybe.
But it just came out, instead of my brain telling me what to type, my subconscious did.
Its odd really - Realization.
Another thing about not dreaming, is morning comes much faster - sometimes I wonder if thats a good thing. I am temporarily thrown into a pit of darkness -I like the dark :), only to be immediately released by my alarm clock, or myself.
Anyways, my brain has appeared to have wandered from my original point.
A song, repeated with no ending.
So, as I was saying, I just planned to fall asleep to this song, but I lay in my bed for a while - only a few minutes this time. And that song suddenly caused inspiration. So I drew it , and the drawing grew, it became something totally different than what I expected - but still with the same core meaning.
Protection.
That song brought out a side of me that only comes out at night - when you're gone. When I live - for you see, I live, for the night. But thats a side of me that no one sees - except Emily since she lives here practically. [Even then, usually this self is expressed in notes, as it partially is now]
*sigh*
Again I have wandered.
Please excuse this, my brain is like those brain maps we have to make in school. It just expands to different points. The core, in this note, is the repeated song.
So, that song repeated over and over, echoed in my head as I drew the inspiration to the page, wrote the words that got deleted from the screen - better left in my head anyways. It continued on as I became bored and had a 2 hour war with Kimmy, edited my memories, poked away, and lost said war.
It traveled with me as I wandered my house, stared out my window, and eventually succumbed to sleep.
I still dont know the meaning.
"Only the artist.."
Well, I dont think my brain has any more webs left to go to that aren't blocked off for reasons known only to me - and more than likely Emily.
So I shall bid you a due, and once again give you kudos if you read this :)
Mercy
You know, you just put it on repeat on your Ipod, or stereo, or computer, or MP3 player, and eventually, it just becomes .. immortal, I suppose. It just never ends, its this continuous train of the same notes, the same lyrics, at the exact same pitch in the exact same pattern.
I've done it :)
It wasnt even a song that had any particular history to me. It wasnt even a song that I knew every lyric to. It really hadnt even been on my Ipod for that long. But, it played at the right time, and gave me the right inspiration. So I kept pressing the back button on my Ipod so it played over and over again.
Around the fourth time through I remembered you can put your Ipod on repeat ;)
[Gimme a break, it was late, and I was tired - and blonde as always (A) *accepts Kit-Kat*]
So that song continued playing, it played through my whole night.
I had originally just planned to fall asleep to it, let it play through the night, maybe seep into my dreams.
But I dont dream much, just who I am.
Dont get me wrong, Im not complaining, not dreaming spares you from a lot of things. I am saved from the nightmares that haunt you 'till you wake in a cold sweat. I am saved from the dreams that confuse you and 'cause you to think about them for days. I am saved from those dreams that are so vivid and real while you dream them, but once you wake you can just barely remember it, and it annoys you to the core. I am also saved from those dreams, that you'd swear were real! You'd stake your life upon it! I guess in a way Im saved from a death wish .. heh'.
Not to say that I havent had one of all of those.
I've had a few nightmares - but not anywhere near close to the numbers most humans get. [And not nearly so terrifying]
I've had a few of those thinker dreams - they usually dont confuse me as much as you'd expect them to.
I've had a few of those dreams that I can barely remember - those, do annoy me to the core, probably just as much as you.
And I've had many of those dreams that you'd swear were real - In the dream , I even told myself it was a dream, tried to convince myself it was just a dream, but when I didnt wake, I believed it was real.
And then I woke.
So, I am throughly spared, having my mind work the way it does.
My subconscious appears to come out in different forms.
My music,
. My writing,
.. My drawings.
There's one piece in particular I've written, that I still dont understand.
Im sure I will someday - maybe.
But it just came out, instead of my brain telling me what to type, my subconscious did.
Its odd really - Realization.
Another thing about not dreaming, is morning comes much faster - sometimes I wonder if thats a good thing. I am temporarily thrown into a pit of darkness -I like the dark :), only to be immediately released by my alarm clock, or myself.
Anyways, my brain has appeared to have wandered from my original point.
A song, repeated with no ending.
So, as I was saying, I just planned to fall asleep to this song, but I lay in my bed for a while - only a few minutes this time. And that song suddenly caused inspiration. So I drew it , and the drawing grew, it became something totally different than what I expected - but still with the same core meaning.
Protection.
That song brought out a side of me that only comes out at night - when you're gone. When I live - for you see, I live, for the night. But thats a side of me that no one sees - except Emily since she lives here practically. [Even then, usually this self is expressed in notes, as it partially is now]
*sigh*
Again I have wandered.
Please excuse this, my brain is like those brain maps we have to make in school. It just expands to different points. The core, in this note, is the repeated song.
So, that song repeated over and over, echoed in my head as I drew the inspiration to the page, wrote the words that got deleted from the screen - better left in my head anyways. It continued on as I became bored and had a 2 hour war with Kimmy, edited my memories, poked away, and lost said war.
It traveled with me as I wandered my house, stared out my window, and eventually succumbed to sleep.
I still dont know the meaning.
"Only the artist.."
Well, I dont think my brain has any more webs left to go to that aren't blocked off for reasons known only to me - and more than likely Emily.
So I shall bid you a due, and once again give you kudos if you read this :)
Mercy
For You♥
You have become my crutch.
And I can't go long without you.
For if I do, I fear of falling.
I fear of hitting the ground.
Becoming covered in the dirt.
But I have fallen.
I have hit the dirt.
And I have been covered by it.
You weren't there to stop the fall.
But you couldn't help it.
I stumbled too quickly for anyone to do anything about it.
But you were there to help me back up.
You were there to brush me off.
You were there to give the push to keep on going.
You walked by my side.
You kept me company.
You listened to my problems.
And gave advice for if asked.
As you listened to my problems.
You watched my every stride.
And they became more graceful.
I began to walk with more confidence.
I held my head high.
And faced what was coming.
I did not expect to stay this way forever.
I knew I would fall again.
But I knew you would be there to pick me up,
and brush me off.
To listen to my problems.
And watch me slowly but surely become stronger.
And each time you pick me up and brush me off,
I stumble less.
You have to pick me up less often.
And my clothes become cleaner from less falls.
But you were always there,
For you are my friends,
and I thank you.
Please stay with me for my journey.
And do not leave my side.
And I wont leave yours.
I will pick you up when you fall down.
I will brush you off.
I will listen to your problems.
And give advice as asked for.
I will watch your every stride become more graceful.
I will watch you become more confident.
I will watch you walk with your head held high.
And I will be there to pick you up all over again.
I will still be there when you stumble no longer. ♥
And I can't go long without you.
For if I do, I fear of falling.
I fear of hitting the ground.
Becoming covered in the dirt.
But I have fallen.
I have hit the dirt.
And I have been covered by it.
You weren't there to stop the fall.
But you couldn't help it.
I stumbled too quickly for anyone to do anything about it.
But you were there to help me back up.
You were there to brush me off.
You were there to give the push to keep on going.
You walked by my side.
You kept me company.
You listened to my problems.
And gave advice for if asked.
As you listened to my problems.
You watched my every stride.
And they became more graceful.
I began to walk with more confidence.
I held my head high.
And faced what was coming.
I did not expect to stay this way forever.
I knew I would fall again.
But I knew you would be there to pick me up,
and brush me off.
To listen to my problems.
And watch me slowly but surely become stronger.
And each time you pick me up and brush me off,
I stumble less.
You have to pick me up less often.
And my clothes become cleaner from less falls.
But you were always there,
For you are my friends,
and I thank you.
Please stay with me for my journey.
And do not leave my side.
And I wont leave yours.
I will pick you up when you fall down.
I will brush you off.
I will listen to your problems.
And give advice as asked for.
I will watch your every stride become more graceful.
I will watch you become more confident.
I will watch you walk with your head held high.
And I will be there to pick you up all over again.
I will still be there when you stumble no longer. ♥
As You Fling Yourself Into The Air, This Note Pulls You Back.
Say I'll be here waiting.
Tell me to make it through.
What if I've already made it through.
What if the biggest part of me making through was making sure you made it through.
And when it becomes painfully aware that you've made it through,
Im done.
I made it through,
the obstacles hurdled.
This is one race, I finally finished.
Its over, and I have nothing more to fight for.
Neither do you.
Time changes everything,
and promises are made to be broken.
So I stopped making them.
But the ones I have made,
the ones that are still being kept,
will stay kept,
if I have anything to say about it.
And I have everything to say about it.
So maybe I do have something to fight for.
I have my word to fight for,
and I will.
You, you have nothing to fight for.
You have nothing to wait for.
So you will be waiting for eternity.
Stop wasting your time.
Stop holding onto the past.
Let it go,
and live your life.
I made it through.
You can stop worrying.
Its over.
Its done.
There's nothing left.
I was told there was an end.
But I searched for weeks for that end.
Went over everything in my past.
Re-lived my life.
And there never was an end.
The End.
..never came.
So I made my own.
The Battle Of An Angel.
Tell me to make it through.
What if I've already made it through.
What if the biggest part of me making through was making sure you made it through.
And when it becomes painfully aware that you've made it through,
Im done.
I made it through,
the obstacles hurdled.
This is one race, I finally finished.
Its over, and I have nothing more to fight for.
Neither do you.
Time changes everything,
and promises are made to be broken.
So I stopped making them.
But the ones I have made,
the ones that are still being kept,
will stay kept,
if I have anything to say about it.
And I have everything to say about it.
So maybe I do have something to fight for.
I have my word to fight for,
and I will.
You, you have nothing to fight for.
You have nothing to wait for.
So you will be waiting for eternity.
Stop wasting your time.
Stop holding onto the past.
Let it go,
and live your life.
I made it through.
You can stop worrying.
Its over.
Its done.
There's nothing left.
I was told there was an end.
But I searched for weeks for that end.
Went over everything in my past.
Re-lived my life.
And there never was an end.
The End.
..never came.
So I made my own.
The Battle Of An Angel.
My Interpretation
Composing, Writing, Drawing.
What were those 3 words to you?
They were just 3 words on a screen right? Just 3 words that Jenn typed at 1:16 AM on Saturday August 23rd 2008.
Thats it.
Just words.
Maybe not.
Maybe there's more to them than that.
Maybe there's more to a lot of things than what appears on the surface.
Maybe .. we dont truly understand, and never will,
When I say -.. type, masterpiece, what do you think?
Most of you probably think some amazing painting, thats completely breath taking and leaves you in awe.
Anyone think of something different when I said masterpiece?
Because everyone's masterpiece is different.
A composers masterpiece, is their song, the notes on the page - or in their head.
An artists masterpiece is their drawing, or painting. The strokes on the page, in the right pattern, to leave you staring for hours.
But a masterpiece doesnt have to be as artistic as that.
A wedding planners masterpiece is their perfect decorations, its their hall that everyone walks into and says "Oh my, who did this, I wish they'd done my wedding"
An accountants masterpiece is their perfect Quickbook, the calculations all correct, the formulas all set, and all they have to do is punch in numbers. [that was for you Mum :)]
A game designers masterpiece is their game, on the shelves of every game store across the country, being sold to millions of kids for their own entertainment.
An interior designers masterpiece is the perfect room, the perfect shade of paint, the perfect curtains to frame the window, the perfect mahogany wood to frame the fireplace and the perfect accent cushions to go with the rug.
A mechanics masterpiece is the perfect car, all the proper parts, the right colour, the perfect purr of the engine as they turn the key in the ignition.
Everybody has a masterpiece. They're just all different.
But now as I say they're all different, I wish to point out one similarity.
They're all, that persons hard work, dedication, and joy.
Sometimes, they can even be more than that , much, much more.
Lets focus on kids of our age and the three words I began with.
Drawers.
I bet you anyone reading this [If I havent already bored you to tears :)] knows at least one person, or is one person, who draws.
Though we may only be 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 whatever, teenagers. Our drawings hold alot of us. When you look at a drawing, you're not just looking at lines on a page to make a picture. You're looking at a page, that has been embedded with part of that person, its been embedded with their emotions, their feelings, maybe even their tears. You're looking at a piece of them, a piece of their soul, what their heart was put into.
Sometimes you're even looking at what that person longs for, what they feel they're missing in their life, you're looking at their dreams, their hopes, their wishes, .. their fears. What they wish would go away, or what they wish they had, more than anything in the world.
Writers.
We aalllll know someone who writes. I think most of us do anyways.
Now, when you read a piece of writing. What is it to you?
Cuz for a lot of people it varies. Some people, its words on a page - or a screen now-a-days - just words put together into sentences with proper punctuation to make up some pointless rant or random story that makes no sense.
To others, its the person bearing their soul for you to see, its how they let their emotions out, its a cryptic code that only they can truly understand, sometimes you may think its about one thing [>.> *cough*] but really it has nothing to do with that. Writers are cryptic and weave a tangled web that no one can ever truly unravel, for the writers make sure the mystery, stays a mystery.
The best part is, even if you ask the writer, to unravel the web for you, and they do. You still wont truly understand.
It doesnt matter if they tell you what its about, spend hours explaining every little tiny detail. You will never truly understand. And sometimes, thats what compels people to write, they can say whatever they want, and never be completely understood. It saves them from complete vulnerability while still sharing with you, something that is most important to them.
So next time to read a piece of writing and decide to comment and say "wow, this is lame", ask yourself, "Could you bear your soul for the world to see"
Because if you're liable to comment and say its lame, I bet you cant do that.
Lastly - for I realli should go to bed,
Composers.
Now EVERYBODY, knows a composer, you listen to music everyday weather you realize it or not, you walk into a department store, and KoolFM is on, you walk into Ardenes, and 91.5 The Beat is playing, you walk into Ziggy's [An old people store xD] and The Oldies is playing.
Music. Is. Everywhere.
So therefore I can almost guarantee you, you all know - or have heard of - a composer, or composers.
Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake, Madonna, Kanye West, Eminem, Sydney, IllScarlet, Alexisonfire, Tool, Jonas Brothers, Mika, Superchick, Supertramp, The Who, The Guess Who, Our Lady Peace, Bruce Springstein, System Of A Down, Boys Like Girls, Hellogoodbye.
You've all heard of one!
So therefore, you can all relate to this.
When you hear a song. You hear what?
Instruments, and vocals maybe.
You hear a guitar, a piano, the drums, a harmonica, a sax, a trumpet, a flute, a violin, and the list goes on.
When you hear vocals, you hear someone screaming, you hear someone singing opera, you hear them just rapping away. There's a million types of vocals.
But what you're truly hearing. Is , once again, their emotion. You're hearing their emotions from the day they wrote that song. You're hearing how ecstatic they were about something, and how they let it out after screaming and dancing around like a maniac.
You're hearing how pained they were that someone had left, you're hearing how they eased their sorrow.
You're hearing, how confused they felt, when they were - for some reason, happy, when they knew they shouldnt be.
You're hearing their heart.
And you can , once again, try for hours, to untangle the web of confusion they have woven in your brain once you've listened to that song.
You can try to understand what they were feeling, what they were thinking, what the song is about.
Lyrics make your job a little easier, one strand of the web is gone, but it will never be fully untangled. For those lyrics, are a piece of writing, they're cryptic, and meant to stay a mystery. Which they will, for even if you feel, that you truly understand that persons emotions,you never will. For we are all different, and everybody has their own interpretation.
Sad to one person, is something completely different to another.
Ecstatic to you, is something completely different to me.
In agony to one person, is something completely different to another.
When you say you're sad, I can only imagine what you're feeling, but I never actually know how you feel, and I never will, for we are two different people, hardwired two different ways, with two different sets of emotions.
So you never know how the artist truly feels, and this is why I say
Now when you listen to just an instrumental piece. Maybe just the guitar. Or maybe just the piano.
It gets even more confusing.
Sometimes the piece sounds happier than they really were, and the story behind why each key was pressed in the order it was, is something completely different than what you'd thought it was.
Sometimes emotion comes from the strangest places, but you are hearing that persons emotions and how they let them out. That song, is emotion, that arrangement of chords, is their way out.
One note following another, is their way to pass the time.
When you hear their emotion, you never know how strong that emotion was.
If their emotion was strong enough, when they sat down at that piano, that song just flowed from their fingertips. They didnt think about what note came next, what sounded right and wrong, they didnt think about what they were doing. It just flowed. Their fingers passed over the keys, choosing the right ones to hit, experimenting for hours, letting the emotion escape from the bottle inside.
If the person was just bored, and decided to sit down at a piano. That piece probably took much longer. They thought too much, they thought about what sounded right or wrong, the laws of the piano, the way you cant mesh two notes or it sounds odd. They thought about which key came next, which chord went with it.
But if you have enough emotion,- and put it into the piece - the two keys that can never mesh, fit perfectly with the proper chord, and are their own personal hallelujah chorus.
Now,
when I say Composing, Writing, Drawing.
What do those three words mean to you?
To me, they mean emotion.
That arrangement of keys you just heard.
Those words on the screen you just read.
That picture you just analyzed.
Could have stopped someone from cutting.
Could've stopped them from crying themselves to sleep.
Could've saved their life
Masterpieces, do a lot more than you think.
That is my interpretation
What were those 3 words to you?
They were just 3 words on a screen right? Just 3 words that Jenn typed at 1:16 AM on Saturday August 23rd 2008.
Thats it.
Just words.
Maybe not.
Maybe there's more to them than that.
Maybe there's more to a lot of things than what appears on the surface.
Maybe .. we dont truly understand, and never will,
For only the artist truly understands the masterpiece
When I say -.. type, masterpiece, what do you think?
Most of you probably think some amazing painting, thats completely breath taking and leaves you in awe.
Anyone think of something different when I said masterpiece?
Because everyone's masterpiece is different.
A composers masterpiece, is their song, the notes on the page - or in their head.
An artists masterpiece is their drawing, or painting. The strokes on the page, in the right pattern, to leave you staring for hours.
But a masterpiece doesnt have to be as artistic as that.
A wedding planners masterpiece is their perfect decorations, its their hall that everyone walks into and says "Oh my, who did this, I wish they'd done my wedding"
An accountants masterpiece is their perfect Quickbook, the calculations all correct, the formulas all set, and all they have to do is punch in numbers. [that was for you Mum :)]
A game designers masterpiece is their game, on the shelves of every game store across the country, being sold to millions of kids for their own entertainment.
An interior designers masterpiece is the perfect room, the perfect shade of paint, the perfect curtains to frame the window, the perfect mahogany wood to frame the fireplace and the perfect accent cushions to go with the rug.
A mechanics masterpiece is the perfect car, all the proper parts, the right colour, the perfect purr of the engine as they turn the key in the ignition.
Everybody has a masterpiece. They're just all different.
But now as I say they're all different, I wish to point out one similarity.
They're all, that persons hard work, dedication, and joy.
Sometimes, they can even be more than that , much, much more.
Lets focus on kids of our age and the three words I began with.
Drawers.
I bet you anyone reading this [If I havent already bored you to tears :)] knows at least one person, or is one person, who draws.
Though we may only be 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 whatever, teenagers. Our drawings hold alot of us. When you look at a drawing, you're not just looking at lines on a page to make a picture. You're looking at a page, that has been embedded with part of that person, its been embedded with their emotions, their feelings, maybe even their tears. You're looking at a piece of them, a piece of their soul, what their heart was put into.
Sometimes you're even looking at what that person longs for, what they feel they're missing in their life, you're looking at their dreams, their hopes, their wishes, .. their fears. What they wish would go away, or what they wish they had, more than anything in the world.
Writers.
We aalllll know someone who writes. I think most of us do anyways.
Now, when you read a piece of writing. What is it to you?
Cuz for a lot of people it varies. Some people, its words on a page - or a screen now-a-days - just words put together into sentences with proper punctuation to make up some pointless rant or random story that makes no sense.
To others, its the person bearing their soul for you to see, its how they let their emotions out, its a cryptic code that only they can truly understand, sometimes you may think its about one thing [>.> *cough*] but really it has nothing to do with that. Writers are cryptic and weave a tangled web that no one can ever truly unravel, for the writers make sure the mystery, stays a mystery.
The best part is, even if you ask the writer, to unravel the web for you, and they do. You still wont truly understand.
Only the artist truly understands the masterpiece.
It doesnt matter if they tell you what its about, spend hours explaining every little tiny detail. You will never truly understand. And sometimes, thats what compels people to write, they can say whatever they want, and never be completely understood. It saves them from complete vulnerability while still sharing with you, something that is most important to them.
So next time to read a piece of writing and decide to comment and say "wow, this is lame", ask yourself, "Could you bear your soul for the world to see"
Because if you're liable to comment and say its lame, I bet you cant do that.
Lastly - for I realli should go to bed,
Composers.
Now EVERYBODY, knows a composer, you listen to music everyday weather you realize it or not, you walk into a department store, and KoolFM is on, you walk into Ardenes, and 91.5 The Beat is playing, you walk into Ziggy's [An old people store xD] and The Oldies is playing.
Music. Is. Everywhere.
So therefore I can almost guarantee you, you all know - or have heard of - a composer, or composers.
Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake, Madonna, Kanye West, Eminem, Sydney, IllScarlet, Alexisonfire, Tool, Jonas Brothers, Mika, Superchick, Supertramp, The Who, The Guess Who, Our Lady Peace, Bruce Springstein, System Of A Down, Boys Like Girls, Hellogoodbye.
You've all heard of one!
So therefore, you can all relate to this.
When you hear a song. You hear what?
Instruments, and vocals maybe.
You hear a guitar, a piano, the drums, a harmonica, a sax, a trumpet, a flute, a violin, and the list goes on.
When you hear vocals, you hear someone screaming, you hear someone singing opera, you hear them just rapping away. There's a million types of vocals.
But what you're truly hearing. Is , once again, their emotion. You're hearing their emotions from the day they wrote that song. You're hearing how ecstatic they were about something, and how they let it out after screaming and dancing around like a maniac.
You're hearing how pained they were that someone had left, you're hearing how they eased their sorrow.
You're hearing, how confused they felt, when they were - for some reason, happy, when they knew they shouldnt be.
You're hearing their heart.
And you can , once again, try for hours, to untangle the web of confusion they have woven in your brain once you've listened to that song.
You can try to understand what they were feeling, what they were thinking, what the song is about.
Lyrics make your job a little easier, one strand of the web is gone, but it will never be fully untangled. For those lyrics, are a piece of writing, they're cryptic, and meant to stay a mystery. Which they will, for even if you feel, that you truly understand that persons emotions,you never will. For we are all different, and everybody has their own interpretation.
Sad to one person, is something completely different to another.
Ecstatic to you, is something completely different to me.
In agony to one person, is something completely different to another.
When you say you're sad, I can only imagine what you're feeling, but I never actually know how you feel, and I never will, for we are two different people, hardwired two different ways, with two different sets of emotions.
So you never know how the artist truly feels, and this is why I say
Only the artist truly understands the masterpiece
Now when you listen to just an instrumental piece. Maybe just the guitar. Or maybe just the piano.
It gets even more confusing.
Sometimes the piece sounds happier than they really were, and the story behind why each key was pressed in the order it was, is something completely different than what you'd thought it was.
Sometimes emotion comes from the strangest places, but you are hearing that persons emotions and how they let them out. That song, is emotion, that arrangement of chords, is their way out.
One note following another, is their way to pass the time.
When you hear their emotion, you never know how strong that emotion was.
If their emotion was strong enough, when they sat down at that piano, that song just flowed from their fingertips. They didnt think about what note came next, what sounded right and wrong, they didnt think about what they were doing. It just flowed. Their fingers passed over the keys, choosing the right ones to hit, experimenting for hours, letting the emotion escape from the bottle inside.
If the person was just bored, and decided to sit down at a piano. That piece probably took much longer. They thought too much, they thought about what sounded right or wrong, the laws of the piano, the way you cant mesh two notes or it sounds odd. They thought about which key came next, which chord went with it.
But if you have enough emotion,- and put it into the piece - the two keys that can never mesh, fit perfectly with the proper chord, and are their own personal hallelujah chorus.
Now,
when I say Composing, Writing, Drawing.
What do those three words mean to you?
To me, they mean emotion.
That arrangement of keys you just heard.
Those words on the screen you just read.
That picture you just analyzed.
Could have stopped someone from cutting.
Could've stopped them from crying themselves to sleep.
Could've saved their life
Masterpieces, do a lot more than you think.
That is my interpretation
My New Beginning
This is it.
It has to stop.
No longer can it go on like this.
Its just not right.
The way things were.
Can never be again.
The way they became.
Is coming to an end.
I am not fighting.
You promised the same.
They are soaring free.
No longer do I grasp.
It is time for new ones to come.
And I continue on.
Do not fight.
Do not battle.
I lay down my sword.
And walk away.
I am done with this fight.
I am done with this battle.
The End never came.
So I made my own.
This is my new beginning.
It has to stop.
No longer can it go on like this.
Its just not right.
The way things were.
Can never be again.
The way they became.
Is coming to an end.
I am not fighting.
You promised the same.
They are soaring free.
No longer do I grasp.
It is time for new ones to come.
And I continue on.
Do not fight.
Do not battle.
I lay down my sword.
And walk away.
I am done with this fight.
I am done with this battle.
The End never came.
So I made my own.
This is my new beginning.
But every new beginning, is some beginnings end.
A Word To The Wise
Up in the dusty attic I scrimmaged through my Grandmothers old chest. I didn't find much. An old hat here, a newspaper article there, some love letter from an old admirer, some war photos sent from Grandpa. Nothing of terrible interest.
The contents of the chest lay beside me on the floor. I looked into the chest, now empty, sat back, and sighed. I went through this chest every year, looking for something new, an old treasure map, an article about thieves hiding jewelery somewhere, but I never found anything new.
I began piling the items back into the chest. The hat on the left, the war photos in the pouch on the underside of the lid, letters galore in the box in the right corner. As I picked up an old newspaper article from 1922 about the town festival, an old, yellowed and fragile, envelope slipped out from between the pages.
I picked it up and flipped it over in my hands. A Word To The Wise was written on the front of the envelope in a fine script. I flipped the envelope over again, the seal was already broken. I put a finger under the flap and flipped it up.
Inside was a single piece of paper, also yellow and fragile. I unfolded it and began to read.
Dear,
I know Im hard to hear these days. But please listen while I am strong. I need to tell you something, there's something you need to learn.
Feelings are confusing things. They control you in a way. The compel you to do things you would never think of doing. And sometimes you just want to hang onto them. You want to make that feeling last. But what you need to learn, is to let them slip away. If you feel them going, set them free, do not grasp after them, do not hold on. For if you do, you are holding onto your past, and you will never move along.
This is one lesson that you must learn.
This is one lesson you must apply.
When you feel you cannot hear me. Please focus, do your best. For I am in there somewhere, hidden in your chest. Clear all the distractions aside, and give me just a minute. I can help you on your way, I can lead you on your path. You may not always be able to do it alone. The ones always there, are the ones who will help you along. They will let you rest on them when you are weary, they will pick you up when you fall down, and they won't say a word.
Keep those ones.
Listen to me I will help you along. I promise to keep you going if you hear me. Please do not fight me if I wish change upon you. And do not fight me if I wish your life to stay its way. Please do not fight me at all, for I am your ally in this game. You may not always understand, I may confuse you at times. But please place your faith in me, and trust I will do you well.
There are many more lessons to learn. But its time for me to fade away. I will teach you when I am again, bright and strong. Until then, live away.
Sincerely,
Your Heart
The contents of the chest lay beside me on the floor. I looked into the chest, now empty, sat back, and sighed. I went through this chest every year, looking for something new, an old treasure map, an article about thieves hiding jewelery somewhere, but I never found anything new.
I began piling the items back into the chest. The hat on the left, the war photos in the pouch on the underside of the lid, letters galore in the box in the right corner. As I picked up an old newspaper article from 1922 about the town festival, an old, yellowed and fragile, envelope slipped out from between the pages.
I picked it up and flipped it over in my hands. A Word To The Wise was written on the front of the envelope in a fine script. I flipped the envelope over again, the seal was already broken. I put a finger under the flap and flipped it up.
Inside was a single piece of paper, also yellow and fragile. I unfolded it and began to read.
Dear,
I know Im hard to hear these days. But please listen while I am strong. I need to tell you something, there's something you need to learn.
Feelings are confusing things. They control you in a way. The compel you to do things you would never think of doing. And sometimes you just want to hang onto them. You want to make that feeling last. But what you need to learn, is to let them slip away. If you feel them going, set them free, do not grasp after them, do not hold on. For if you do, you are holding onto your past, and you will never move along.
This is one lesson that you must learn.
This is one lesson you must apply.
When you feel you cannot hear me. Please focus, do your best. For I am in there somewhere, hidden in your chest. Clear all the distractions aside, and give me just a minute. I can help you on your way, I can lead you on your path. You may not always be able to do it alone. The ones always there, are the ones who will help you along. They will let you rest on them when you are weary, they will pick you up when you fall down, and they won't say a word.
Keep those ones.
Listen to me I will help you along. I promise to keep you going if you hear me. Please do not fight me if I wish change upon you. And do not fight me if I wish your life to stay its way. Please do not fight me at all, for I am your ally in this game. You may not always understand, I may confuse you at times. But please place your faith in me, and trust I will do you well.
There are many more lessons to learn. But its time for me to fade away. I will teach you when I am again, bright and strong. Until then, live away.
Sincerely,
Your Heart
Think Again
The sky is cloudless.
The moon is bright.
The stars are few.
No obstacles to see through.
No trouble to listen.
No one missing.
The easier it be made.
The more clear it become.
The less support I require.
Keep it this way.
Stay this strong.
Stay with me.
This is how it should be.
This is how it should stay.
This is the most important.
I can live like this.
I can listen like this.
I can keep you like this.
I like to live like this.
I like to listen like this.
I like to keep you like this.
You are my trouble.
You are what I listen to.
You are my most important.
I can live without you.
I can't live without you.
I can't live without you.
I like this world.
I like this heart.
I like this you.
Now make it plural.
'Cause this isn't about you.
The moon is bright.
The stars are few.
No obstacles to see through.
No trouble to listen.
No one missing.
The easier it be made.
The more clear it become.
The less support I require.
Keep it this way.
Stay this strong.
Stay with me.
This is how it should be.
This is how it should stay.
This is the most important.
I can live like this.
I can listen like this.
I can keep you like this.
I like to live like this.
I like to listen like this.
I like to keep you like this.
You are my trouble.
You are what I listen to.
You are my most important.
I can live without you.
I can't live without you.
I can't live without you.
I like this world.
I like this heart.
I like this you.
Now make it plural.
'Cause this isn't about you.
[Delivered to you from the 1:30 am minds of Jenn and Jordan]
That guitar, and its one simple note, repeated in the same rhythm, is someone's life. It's how they survive, its why they survive, it is their reason for living.
Those drums, are the beat of ones heart, telling of their emotion, of their happiness, and of their pain. Those drums bear much of the person that play them.
That acoustic guitar, is their escape, it is how they unplug from the world, they run away to the guitar, connected to the world in no other way than through that person.
The voice you hear, the sound echoing in your ears, is their soul, it is their soul placed out for you to see. It is them making them self vulnerable.
And that piano, holds more emotions than you know, it has been embedded with more of them than you've ever seen.
And when you put together, someone's reason for living, the beat of someone's heart, someone's escape, someone's soul, and more emotions than you know, you get a great song. A song filled with so much soul, so much meaning, so much emotion, that you can't fully understand it. Only the artist truly understands the song. And even if its multiple artists, even if they are in the song, they are part of it, their life, their heart, their emotions, their soul or their reason for living is in it, they still may not fully understand the song, what they will fully understand is their part in it. What it means to them.
But now the question is, what has more soul, the singer or the song?
[And it plays into the dark]
That guitar, and its one simple note, repeated in the same rhythm, is someone's life. It's how they survive, its why they survive, it is their reason for living.
Those drums, are the beat of ones heart, telling of their emotion, of their happiness, and of their pain. Those drums bear much of the person that play them.
That acoustic guitar, is their escape, it is how they unplug from the world, they run away to the guitar, connected to the world in no other way than through that person.
The voice you hear, the sound echoing in your ears, is their soul, it is their soul placed out for you to see. It is them making them self vulnerable.
And that piano, holds more emotions than you know, it has been embedded with more of them than you've ever seen.
And when you put together, someone's reason for living, the beat of someone's heart, someone's escape, someone's soul, and more emotions than you know, you get a great song. A song filled with so much soul, so much meaning, so much emotion, that you can't fully understand it. Only the artist truly understands the song. And even if its multiple artists, even if they are in the song, they are part of it, their life, their heart, their emotions, their soul or their reason for living is in it, they still may not fully understand the song, what they will fully understand is their part in it. What it means to them.
But now the question is, what has more soul, the singer or the song?
We'll leave that up to you to decide.
[And it plays into the dark]
The Battle Of An Angel
They’re all looking for me.
I can’t escape.
I try and hide but they always find me.
I don’t know what to do anymore.
It’d be easy if it was just one of them.
But there’s more.
They don’t work together.
They’re fighting each other.
They’re fighting each other while they search for me.
I see their eyes peering around at me from corners.
Lurking in the dark.
They’re all different colours.
Piercing blue.
Vibrant green.
One I can’t even describe.
And one,
One so red.
Dark. Blood. Red.
There’s more, dark, light, piercing, vibrant, killing, staring, watching, following.
They’re everywhere.
If I give into them, one will succeed.
But I don’t want one to succeed.
I don’t want to be caught.
So I run.
I run as far away as I can.
I fool them.
I lead them in the wrong direction.
I get rid of them by hurting them.
The words echo in my head.
The story.
The tale.
The legend.
But this story.
It needs an end.
So I disappear.
I can’t escape.
I try and hide but they always find me.
I don’t know what to do anymore.
It’d be easy if it was just one of them.
But there’s more.
They don’t work together.
They’re fighting each other.
They’re fighting each other while they search for me.
I see their eyes peering around at me from corners.
Lurking in the dark.
They’re all different colours.
Piercing blue.
Vibrant green.
One I can’t even describe.
And one,
One so red.
Dark. Blood. Red.
There’s more, dark, light, piercing, vibrant, killing, staring, watching, following.
They’re everywhere.
If I give into them, one will succeed.
But I don’t want one to succeed.
I don’t want to be caught.
So I run.
I run as far away as I can.
I fool them.
I lead them in the wrong direction.
I get rid of them by hurting them.
The words echo in my head.
The story.
The tale.
The legend.
But this story.
It needs an end.
So I disappear.
Crisp
I sat there and stared at that glimmer of hope, it shimmered, focused in and out, and I stared. For hours. Music in one ear, leaves rustling in the other, perfect. Why not record it? So I did.
I don't know what it meant this time. I still don't really. Maybe its my dreams, .. my hopes .. maybe even my fears. Maybe its what I'm going to do with you. Whatever it is this time, its still what I live on.
You could think about the same thing for hours, its funny really, the same exact thing, going through your head, over and over. Odd I think.
A turning point, everything suddenly changes and I have to wonder, who have you become? What have you done? Do you know how it feels? How could you do it?
Ultimately, Who are you?
I am done with my pity. I am done with "soft landings". Soft landings means there's one last quick, hard, very painful drop to get to the end. The drop that kills.
I make my plans, and I intend to keep them. Don't fret on that point. They will be kept. No matter how I am feeling, they will be kept.
Expect no pity from me. You used it all.
The choices you make, are yours, and yours alone. You chose to do the things you did, you chose to make note of them, you chose to kill, weather you realize it or not.
What you didn't choose, is the right choice. What you didn't choose, was to be yourself. What you didn't choose, was to keep me close by.
What I did choose, was to make sure that weather you kept me close by or not, I stayed close by.
I don't wish anyone would just fall off the face of this planet, but sometimes .. they do it of their own accord.
Don't be thinking I'm not falling with you.
I'm not done with you yet.
I don't know what it meant this time. I still don't really. Maybe its my dreams, .. my hopes .. maybe even my fears. Maybe its what I'm going to do with you. Whatever it is this time, its still what I live on.
You could think about the same thing for hours, its funny really, the same exact thing, going through your head, over and over. Odd I think.
A turning point, everything suddenly changes and I have to wonder, who have you become? What have you done? Do you know how it feels? How could you do it?
Ultimately, Who are you?
I am done with my pity. I am done with "soft landings". Soft landings means there's one last quick, hard, very painful drop to get to the end. The drop that kills.
I make my plans, and I intend to keep them. Don't fret on that point. They will be kept. No matter how I am feeling, they will be kept.
Expect no pity from me. You used it all.
The choices you make, are yours, and yours alone. You chose to do the things you did, you chose to make note of them, you chose to kill, weather you realize it or not.
What you didn't choose, is the right choice. What you didn't choose, was to be yourself. What you didn't choose, was to keep me close by.
What I did choose, was to make sure that weather you kept me close by or not, I stayed close by.
I don't wish anyone would just fall off the face of this planet, but sometimes .. they do it of their own accord.
Don't be thinking I'm not falling with you.
I'm not done with you yet.
Realization
I was lost. I didn't know where I was, where I was going, who, or what, I was searching for, but I knew I was searching for something.
Aimlessly wandering for 18 hours and 13 minutes gives you lots of time to try and figure things out, but when you have no foundation to start your thinking on, it tends not to go too far. Eventually, you're left to wander, by yourself, and make sad attempts at figuring out what you're doing.
The streets were abandoned, the houses were empty, windows in buildings were smashed, gas station pumps were out of the ground on their sides, many street lights were burnt out, and it was the heaviest silence I've ever heard.
As I had seen the town from a fair distance away, I had hoped to find whatever it was I was searching for here, but as I entered the town, I had a feeling I wouldn't be finding it here.
I entered the town warily. Not knowing what to expect I made sure to make little noise. The streets went by numbers, 5th Avenue, 8th Avenue, 9th Avenue, etc. Trying to get some human knowledge, of date or time, I headed over to the gas station.
As I entered the building of the gas station the door fell off its top hinge. I didn't jump, for some reason I had expected this. I walked up to the counter, trying to find a clock, or datebook, I would go on anything at this point in time. I hopped the counter and scrounged through the shelves behind. There were cigarettes, multiple receipts, a few old chocolate bars, which I put in my pocket for later, and an old watch. The watch showed 10:12, I prayed for the hands to move so I'd know it was true. They never did. I hopped back over the counter, leaving the watch there, and went back out to the abandoned streets.
I walked over to the crosswalk. The streetlight above me flickered, and went out. I sprinted across the street, feeling I was going to get hit by an invisible car or something. As I passed a big red brick building, I caught my reflection in what was left of a window.
It hit, it hit hard, and it hit too late. The streets flooded with cars and honking horns, the street lights all came back on to their brightest ability, people were getting gas from the gas stations, now fully revived, the windows of buildings were no longer broken, and you could hear the sounds of children and parents in their home, of neighbours having bonfires, and the cheery hello's of people passing eachother on the street.
This time it hit on time.
The numbers you want are everywhere if you look for them.
Aimlessly wandering for 18 hours and 13 minutes gives you lots of time to try and figure things out, but when you have no foundation to start your thinking on, it tends not to go too far. Eventually, you're left to wander, by yourself, and make sad attempts at figuring out what you're doing.
The streets were abandoned, the houses were empty, windows in buildings were smashed, gas station pumps were out of the ground on their sides, many street lights were burnt out, and it was the heaviest silence I've ever heard.
As I had seen the town from a fair distance away, I had hoped to find whatever it was I was searching for here, but as I entered the town, I had a feeling I wouldn't be finding it here.
I entered the town warily. Not knowing what to expect I made sure to make little noise. The streets went by numbers, 5th Avenue, 8th Avenue, 9th Avenue, etc. Trying to get some human knowledge, of date or time, I headed over to the gas station.
As I entered the building of the gas station the door fell off its top hinge. I didn't jump, for some reason I had expected this. I walked up to the counter, trying to find a clock, or datebook, I would go on anything at this point in time. I hopped the counter and scrounged through the shelves behind. There were cigarettes, multiple receipts, a few old chocolate bars, which I put in my pocket for later, and an old watch. The watch showed 10:12, I prayed for the hands to move so I'd know it was true. They never did. I hopped back over the counter, leaving the watch there, and went back out to the abandoned streets.
I walked over to the crosswalk. The streetlight above me flickered, and went out. I sprinted across the street, feeling I was going to get hit by an invisible car or something. As I passed a big red brick building, I caught my reflection in what was left of a window.
It hit, it hit hard, and it hit too late. The streets flooded with cars and honking horns, the street lights all came back on to their brightest ability, people were getting gas from the gas stations, now fully revived, the windows of buildings were no longer broken, and you could hear the sounds of children and parents in their home, of neighbours having bonfires, and the cheery hello's of people passing eachother on the street.
This time it hit on time.
The numbers you want are everywhere if you look for them.
Listen to the Moon
Late one night, so late, it was early, I went out to my deck. There was a pinkish glow from the street light in front of the house behind mine. But it only reached so far. Then the shadows began, the shadows, where you could see the clouds.
The sky was a darkish blue, grey colour. Clouds covered it. And as I sat there, I looked up into the sky, searching for the stars. There were few, but the one's that were there, they were always there. They were the stars you could rely on to be there each and every night. Never leaving.
Sitting there, thinking, the sky soon began to resemble things. And as the clouds that crossed the moons path disappeared, more resemblance came. These clouds, you could see them, clear as day, when they weren't in the moons light. But once they reached the moons light they appeared, to have disappeared, until they completely crossed the moons path and re-appeared on the other side.
There were a few clouds, they were a different kind of cloud. They didn't disappear in the moons light. Instead, they showed themselves, they didn't hide in the light, and appear in the shadows. They appeared in both. Though they became transparent, they appeared.
The clouds that totally covered the moon caught my attention the most. They came along, and they completely covered the moon. To a point where the sky looked moonless, lightless .. lifeless.
And as the tears began to stream down my face, as they do now. A whole new meaning came to the clouds, and the moon. These clouds, they covered the moon, you couldn't see it, .. you couldn't hear it. And what are you to do when you can't hear the moon? It means you have to listen to the clouds, or listen to nothing. But what you really want to do is tell the clouds to move, tell them to go away so you can hear the moon. And they obey your secret wishes for glimpses of time. That glimpse is soon gone though.
Its hard to listen to the moon with the clouds there. But if you try, really try, some nights, you can just hear it. Sometimes, it has a message to be deciphered, and if you don't decipher it correctly, it could change everything, and if you do decipher it correctly, you may not always like what you hear.
And when the realization hits you, and hits you hard, sometimes, listening to the moon hurts.
The sky was a darkish blue, grey colour. Clouds covered it. And as I sat there, I looked up into the sky, searching for the stars. There were few, but the one's that were there, they were always there. They were the stars you could rely on to be there each and every night. Never leaving.
Sitting there, thinking, the sky soon began to resemble things. And as the clouds that crossed the moons path disappeared, more resemblance came. These clouds, you could see them, clear as day, when they weren't in the moons light. But once they reached the moons light they appeared, to have disappeared, until they completely crossed the moons path and re-appeared on the other side.
There were a few clouds, they were a different kind of cloud. They didn't disappear in the moons light. Instead, they showed themselves, they didn't hide in the light, and appear in the shadows. They appeared in both. Though they became transparent, they appeared.
The clouds that totally covered the moon caught my attention the most. They came along, and they completely covered the moon. To a point where the sky looked moonless, lightless .. lifeless.
And as the tears began to stream down my face, as they do now. A whole new meaning came to the clouds, and the moon. These clouds, they covered the moon, you couldn't see it, .. you couldn't hear it. And what are you to do when you can't hear the moon? It means you have to listen to the clouds, or listen to nothing. But what you really want to do is tell the clouds to move, tell them to go away so you can hear the moon. And they obey your secret wishes for glimpses of time. That glimpse is soon gone though.
Its hard to listen to the moon with the clouds there. But if you try, really try, some nights, you can just hear it. Sometimes, it has a message to be deciphered, and if you don't decipher it correctly, it could change everything, and if you do decipher it correctly, you may not always like what you hear.
And when the realization hits you, and hits you hard, sometimes, listening to the moon hurts.
From My "Emo Book"
Used so frequently
But maybe never meant.
All lies, never known.
Once discovered, everything changes.
Friendships destroyed, dreams lost, hopes shattered.
Living in the shadows, lies in light. Hiding.
You think its there, but learn its non-existent.
and then,
There's No one.
But maybe never meant.
All lies, never known.
Once discovered, everything changes.
Friendships destroyed, dreams lost, hopes shattered.
Living in the shadows, lies in light. Hiding.
You think its there, but learn its non-existent.
and then,
There's No one.
A Few Important Definitions, [Quotes] + Random Lessons
Definitions:
An Anniversary: Weather it be the anniversary for how many years a church has been around, or a wedding anniversary. It is still a celebration of the fact that a group of people, big or small, has been committed to a cause. They have come together to keep it going, through the hard times, and the good times, because they wanted to. They wanted to stay together.
A REAL Friend: A real friend is honest, fair, unbiased. When the whole world is there telling you what to do, they aren't telling you anything, they are just their to catch you when you fall. They are they people who can make you smile or laugh when you're at your worst. They accept you for who you are, and what you do. No matter what.
They are one in a million
Quotes:
"Friends are like balloons; once you let them go, you might not get them back. Sometimes we get so busy with our own lives and problems that we may not even notice that we've let them fly away. Sometimes we are so caught up in who's right and who's wrong that we forget what's right and wrong. Sometimes we just don't realize what real friendship means until it is too late. I don't want to let that happen so I'm gonna tie you to my heart so I never lose you. "
- A real friend :)
"Don't fall for someone unless they're willing to catch you"
"When the whole world is unique, no one is"
"You just have to go after what you want and if it doesnt want you back then so be it, it doesn't deserve you anyways .."
-Nicole Richie
"We are not good friends because of the laughs we've spent, but because of the tears we've saved"
Lessons:
* Words hit hard, maybe harder than you intended
* Don't live your life on the "vibes" you feel, vibes mistaken tear the world apart
* Don't go out on a limb until you know someone's there to catch you if you fall
* Learn from your mistakes, and don't make them more than once. Mistakes make you what you are.
* The secrets that people keep from you, or you keep from people, in order not to hurt them, are the secrets that kill them in the end.
An Anniversary: Weather it be the anniversary for how many years a church has been around, or a wedding anniversary. It is still a celebration of the fact that a group of people, big or small, has been committed to a cause. They have come together to keep it going, through the hard times, and the good times, because they wanted to. They wanted to stay together.
A REAL Friend: A real friend is honest, fair, unbiased. When the whole world is there telling you what to do, they aren't telling you anything, they are just their to catch you when you fall. They are they people who can make you smile or laugh when you're at your worst. They accept you for who you are, and what you do. No matter what.
They are one in a million
Quotes:
"Friends are like balloons; once you let them go, you might not get them back. Sometimes we get so busy with our own lives and problems that we may not even notice that we've let them fly away. Sometimes we are so caught up in who's right and who's wrong that we forget what's right and wrong. Sometimes we just don't realize what real friendship means until it is too late. I don't want to let that happen so I'm gonna tie you to my heart so I never lose you. "
- A real friend :)
"Don't fall for someone unless they're willing to catch you"
"When the whole world is unique, no one is"
"You just have to go after what you want and if it doesnt want you back then so be it, it doesn't deserve you anyways .."
-Nicole Richie
"We are not good friends because of the laughs we've spent, but because of the tears we've saved"
Lessons:
* Words hit hard, maybe harder than you intended
* Don't live your life on the "vibes" you feel, vibes mistaken tear the world apart
* Don't go out on a limb until you know someone's there to catch you if you fall
* Learn from your mistakes, and don't make them more than once. Mistakes make you what you are.
* The secrets that people keep from you, or you keep from people, in order not to hurt them, are the secrets that kill them in the end.
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