Sunday, October 18, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
Please don't make me be part of the production
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
Never too late?
My eyes are burning
My heart is cold
My head is pounding
My trust betrayed
Gone are the days of love
There are only so many times you can break anything before it is best left for the trash collector.
My heart is cold
My head is pounding
My trust betrayed
Gone are the days of love
There are only so many times you can break anything before it is best left for the trash collector.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
When walking with a blindfold, please watch out for potholes
Is it true, what they say, about how a person always knows when their significant other is wandering? They say to listen to your gut; that your gut is never wrong. That to listen to the heart is the first mistake.
But what about when there is no real evidence of said liaisons and all you are going on are feelings?
When you go looking for something, are you really going to find it, or are you only going to find what you THINK you will find simply by fabricating and stretching reality to fit in with your disillusioned state?
Even a rock can look like a crocodile in the darkness.
But what about when there is no real evidence of said liaisons and all you are going on are feelings?
When you go looking for something, are you really going to find it, or are you only going to find what you THINK you will find simply by fabricating and stretching reality to fit in with your disillusioned state?
Even a rock can look like a crocodile in the darkness.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
If a person is not careful
The apprehension you feel when you know something is wrong.
Panic, butterflies; your heart is racing.
You keep telling yourself to breathe, but somehow your lungs
won't seem to listen.
You ask him why, silently pleading for him to make the feelings go away; to allow you to breathe once again.
But when he disregards your questions something else happens.
The apprehension in your gut turns to anger.
"Who is he to disregard me?" you think.
"Are my feelings that easily brushed to the side?"
People who sneak inside the walls that surround the heart are just
as easily dispelled if they aren't careful of where they are stepping.
Panic, butterflies; your heart is racing.
You keep telling yourself to breathe, but somehow your lungs
won't seem to listen.
You ask him why, silently pleading for him to make the feelings go away; to allow you to breathe once again.
But when he disregards your questions something else happens.
The apprehension in your gut turns to anger.
"Who is he to disregard me?" you think.
"Are my feelings that easily brushed to the side?"
People who sneak inside the walls that surround the heart are just
as easily dispelled if they aren't careful of where they are stepping.
The Old vs The New
When you love someone, it's the little things about them that catch your eye; that make you smile; that melt your heart. When you take those things away are you not simply creating a fictional character, one which any actor can take the original place of? Where is the originality? Where is the personality?
If you try and mold someone into your ideal, are you really loving that person? Or are you simply loving one that got away ages ago that you are attempting to recreate in a new reality?
If you try and mold someone into your ideal, are you really loving that person? Or are you simply loving one that got away ages ago that you are attempting to recreate in a new reality?
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