I want to be less stick insect and more beatle
Would you please tie my shoelaces?
Guide yourself, learn from yourself, don’t be afraid of doing so
I see people who have the same faces
Tying their shoe laces
Living in different places
Solving different cases
On the basis
That I live no more.
Is it the moon? No, it’s too big
Is it the lamp post? No, it’s too white
Is it a cloud? No, it shines too bright
Is it the sun? No, it’s too dark outside
What is this shining something?
Meaningful words, there’s nothing more poetic than that.
Time doesn’t heal all wounds.
The size of the fracture stays the same.
The damage done is damage done. Nothing can change that.
You can try change how you look at it but if the grass is green it doesn’t matter if it’s greener on the other side: either way it’s still green.
I miss writing, journalling.
I know this is a blog and I am suppose to, well not write what I write. Be less conversational and less person and less criptic.
Some people find it poetic.
What do you guys think when you read something like this?
Something more memoir, more diary like, the thoughts of another human being you barely know?
Yet, you probably know their (my) inner most deepest thoughts, more than most who know me personally. However, they’re so out of context does it just pass you by? Or does it fustrate you, do you want to know more?
“Not again!” I scream,
The sun is down like me
Lost with no self esteem
From this monster, I’ll never be free
But the sun will rise
Again for us tomorrow
As the darkness dies
And if it rains: rainbow.
I cry at night,
There’s nothing I can do
Memories; I now write
Then cry again because of you.
But wait, you’re gone:
I can live on my own
Someone else to count on
A new beginning I’ve been shown.