I stare out my window every morning and night. A landscape dying, green fading and brown over taking. Yet, I look not for what is gone, but for what is there. Always there, perched on a tree branch is a bird. It comes and goes, but always returning. The colors of this bird standing out from my decayed world, a beacon of hope, the spirit of life. However, each morning and each night, the bird takes flight, leaving me with nothing to see, nothing to look for.
I wait for it to return to its place in my world, the place where it rests. This relationship we share, one depending on they other, was getting me through my days. Id blur through the hours, waiting, just waiting for the bird to come back, to brighten my surroundings. But then I realize the bird doesn't need me like I need it. I'm only one of thousands of branches and mine are dying. They aren't something delicate, they aren't something to want.
One day the birds not going to come back, and I still need it.
9.1.10
6.1.10
Just the 6th
Ok, so this whole resolution of mine, writing and what not is really not keeping me going. I did promise myself this one thing and it seems I cant even follow through with that. Its simple enough, go online and blindly type with little thought. Yet, even when not thinking I can't force myself to write out the demented stories that play out in my head.
At this point I'd say that I'm failing miserably but, i have this little thought in the back of my head. The idea that writing everyday about anything and everything is for stability, something I and someone else need. But even more I feel, as artificial as the feeling may be, that i write for someone else. Giving a brief relieve to a world that all too quickly is ready to swallow you whole, diminishing you to nothing.
Wonder if im the only one that realizes this.
At this point I'd say that I'm failing miserably but, i have this little thought in the back of my head. The idea that writing everyday about anything and everything is for stability, something I and someone else need. But even more I feel, as artificial as the feeling may be, that i write for someone else. Giving a brief relieve to a world that all too quickly is ready to swallow you whole, diminishing you to nothing.
Wonder if im the only one that realizes this.
5.1.10
Get this out of my head
Oh listen Tender Lumplings let me take you by the hands.
I'll take you from this hell-hole to the Promised Land.
But don't blame me, oh children, if those promises don't keep.
'Cause promises like lives, can be bought so very cheap.
I'll take you from this hell-hole to the Promised Land.
But don't blame me, oh children, if those promises don't keep.
'Cause promises like lives, can be bought so very cheap.
3.1.10
One week?
Working on my art piece after 2 weeks of abandonment.
Lines, lines, lines, They're driving me crazy. Not sure if its the 47 ounces of caffeine pulsing through my veins making me antsy or the longing and almost feel of betrayal.
If I finish this today it will mean a week. One long week.
The end.
Lines, lines, lines, They're driving me crazy. Not sure if its the 47 ounces of caffeine pulsing through my veins making me antsy or the longing and almost feel of betrayal.
If I finish this today it will mean a week. One long week.
The end.
Happy New Year to Me
The New Year has come and gone, leaving me needing a resolution. It's that word that everyone throws around this time of year.
"I vow to quit smoking"
"I'll get help with my drinking problems"
However, these so called promises are never one I have had for myself. I never felt that I had the need, but a couple of days the way I've been living is quite the eye opener.
Children usually form material bonds with meaningless things, a teddy bear, a favorite sweater or even a blanket. They need these items to function, to breathe, to sleep. I never understood this until now.
*edited just for you
"I vow to quit smoking"
"I'll get help with my drinking problems"
However, these so called promises are never one I have had for myself. I never felt that I had the need, but a couple of days the way I've been living is quite the eye opener.
Children usually form material bonds with meaningless things, a teddy bear, a favorite sweater or even a blanket. They need these items to function, to breathe, to sleep. I never understood this until now.
*edited just for you
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