blood on the floor, fleas on their paws and you cried til the morning…

so late

The night surrounds and embraces me,
And lovers have no better covers than she,
And below, the earth is warm and remains
A part of me through the winter winds and autumn rains.

so glad to meet you, angeles…

i’m going to bed.

poem!

And so she left me here
And she spoke as one would to a crying child,
“Remember just one thing my dear,
A sad smile is still always a smile.”

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

it’s strange

i am always tired.

but weary eyes make everything around me seem so comfortable.

hmmm.

anyways.

sigur ros, for 4 hours, equals this.

I constantly hear people say how they feel like things are going too well. That something must go wrong soon because everything feels so right. But it seems to me that this is true no matter what the situation is. That life is a constant stream of crescendos and decrescendos. Climaxes and Catharses. Anytime you have a period of happiness, the moment before things begin to sour is the moment of your highest happiness. Anytime you have a period of misery, the moment before your spirits lift is your lowest moment. The idea that night is darkest before dawn. And this still holds true for the daylight. The sun will be its brightest and highest before it darkens and sets. And this is a constant back and forth. A search for balance that is constant, but rarely attained. The night will forever chase the day, and the day will forever follow the night. Happiness will forever follow sadness, and sadness will pervade wherever happiness has found a home. But what you must remember always, is that these changes are constant, but the times in between are temporary. You must never give up hope. You must always fight and live for the periods of happiness. They will be consistent, but not constant. They may be lost, but they may always be regained. They may not be permanent, but they can be held onto. They may not be what you expect, but they are everything to live for.

With tired eyes, tired minds, tired souls, we slept…

weary.

weary.

weary.

i am.

must sleep.

words.

Today, as the sun was setting and the day was closing, I realized something. Or rather, I finally noticed something. That there are things I will never experience in my life. There are dreams I will never see fulfilled, half-formed but so very real. Like children. But they will never reach fruition. They will not live to be made reality. They were born of my desires, and so they will fade. Nothing more than desires. Empty hopes, desperate for realization. I have never felt anything so chilling. Realizing there are dances I will never dance, loves I will not love, songs I will never hear. I finally noticed today, exactly how finite my time on this mortal plane of existence is. I may still have my entire life ahead of me, but I already have so many years behind me. My time will end abruptly, and until then, I must fight to live this life to its fullest. I will live my life to live my dreams.

papa died smiling wide as the ring of a bell, gone all star white, small as a wish in a well…

summer!

Gentle sounds of music play through the air,
And the summer wind plays through our hair,
The sunlight dances through the leaves,
And the streets are alive with the shadows of trees.

We rise with the day and set with the night,
And we rest our eyes when the sun rests its light.
We are as the sky, and we are as the earth.
We live until we die, and we know what we are worth.

We are grateful for our lives this day,
And we are content to stay this way,
Living, loving, without pretense,
Because we must live our lives until the end.

I never thought I’d feel this alone…

I’m actually in a pretty good mood right now.

but i wrote this a while ago, and i still like it.

I accept this pain. It cleanses my mind. I accept this rejection. It braces me for impact. I accept this isolation. It clears my soul of regret. To be without hope is a peculiar feeling. Or rather it isn’t a feeling. To forsake the emotions. To be past all that touchy feely shit. To abandon romanticism. To live and die because we are. Nothing more, no attachments. The verb “to be”. That is us. You were not fully conscious when you were born. You did not hold ideals as an infant. You woke to form your opinions, after you were past the point of no return. You did not choose to live at the beginning. Afterwards, you need to realize this. That living is a choice. To realize every breath you take, you choose to live. Every time you satisfy a craving or desire, you choose to live. You know this, and you continue because it is the path of least resistance. You are electricity desperately seeking the ground to end your fast and violent journey from the heavens to the earth. You are lightning without the light. When you die, you will not burn as bright.

no hope, no love, no glory…

tired.

sick.

but i have been with my guurl for 1 year.

366 days, to be exact.

:]

In life there are only so many moments we will ever have the chance to experience. Infinite possibilities, painfully finite time. We feel emotions in varying degrees, decided by our beings. There are colors and shades of existence in these emotions, and like art, we are painted by them. They can be blended into so many exquisite, soul-defining moments. But we can lose these moments to repetition. We can choose complacency. We can reach a point of comfort, equilibrium, and choose to venture no further. To feel nothing new. To allow our souls to die prematurely. We have to know how fragile we are, how temporary our conscious lives are. We can not die without feeling and living every moment we can. We can not give ourselves to stagnation. Our souls will not allow it. Our minds will feel what they should, our hearts will feel what they want, and our souls will feel what must be felt.

the birth and death of the day…

such a good song.

i say such too much.

oh well.

and that.

what?

anyways, i have a poem from an airplane on which i wrote it.

what?

yeah.

it doesn’t really match the title.

i try to match the themes, but this post, meh.

psyche.

The air is filled with the song of birds
That string together into heartfelt words
Spoken like a mother to her only son,
And light streams from the horizon

And stripes the sky blue sky,
And make silver the clouds sailing by
So the skyline is painted by the rays
Yet slowly the day into night decays.

The sun’s death is always met with mourning,
But while the sun falls, it must always rise
And though at night the sun dies
It lives at morning
And once again illuminates the skies.

remember me as a time of day…

it’s hard to use the lyrics of the song i’m listening to as a title, since it’s instrumental.

anyways, sorry about the long hiatus

i was abroad.

sounds mysterious huh?

it wasn’t, but i like the drama.

airplane prose!

In life there are only so many moments we will ever have the chance to experience. Infinite possibilities, painfully finite time. We feel emotions in varying degrees, decided by our beings. There are colors and shades of existence in these emotions, and like art, we are painted by them. They can be blended into so many exquisite, soul-defining moments. But we can lose these moments to repetition. We can choose complacency. We can reach a point of comfort, equilibrium, and choose to venture no further. To feel nothing new. To allow our souls to die prematurely. We have to know how fragile we are, how temporary our conscious lives are. We can not die without feeling and living every moment we can. We can not give ourselves to stagnation. Our souls will not allow it. Our minds will feel what they should, our hearts will feel what they want, and our souls will feel what must be felt.