Every day is a pilgrimageA slow travel towards originThe constant search for belongingIn the rushing of leaves, the cooking of rice As I gravitate towards the needlepoint horizonI realize all too slowlyThe end is just another stepWhile sharing the rice and walking alongside the leavesBelonging is the pilgrimage
You would rather keep me as a distant possibility that you can use as a fairytale to lull you to sleep in the darkness, than risk lifting the weil from your life and see love for what it really is. And what will you lose by taking that chance if nothing happens? Just cobwebs, a fairytale, a few days of your time, perhaps a little money. Apparently my love is something you can toy with. Because I have no weil. I know what’s at stake here, and I can’t risk not being here. I will not lull myself to sleep by a distant fairytale and allow the weil to cover my eyes. So what If nothing comes from it? I’ll have spent a little money, a little time, taking a stand for the best, the exquisitety of life. Standing here is the only option there is for me. So toy…
I wander the path between death and dreamThe city falls awayThe mountain dissolvesIf this is goodbye
Sometimes i get so lonely that the desperation is palpable and I’d trade anything to find rest in strong and loving arms.Sometimes I fell so alone that I’d trade anything to share the load of responsibilities.Sometimes I get so exited that I’d trade anything to grow ideas with an equalSometimes I get so lost in thoughts that I’d give anything for a new perspective.Sometimes I get so happy that I’d trade anything to share my happiness.Sometimes I get so silly that I’d trade anything to laugh forever with somebody.Sometimes I feel like the universe is finding rest in me, and I’d trade anything to show someone the love between us all.Sometimes I feel so full of desire that I’d trade anything to loose my mind for a night. All of this is words, of no consequence to anyone. It’s just feelings. Emotions.Who will cross my path, and dare to stand…
In the scheme of things, you are forgiven. Because love is love. In life, not so much. Why are you such a fucking idiot? Such an imbecile. So strange, how you would allow fear and ignorance to rule you. To blind you of the holy before you. I’ve never understood, I never will. What life is that, so little. All the stories, all the excuses. Ella and Louis is singing to me, A Fine Romance, and I marvel at the charm that alows Ella to rhyme ‘Aunts’ with ‘Chance’ and then ‘Romance’. I felt the rage in me all the way home. I yelled in my car, windows closed, but still. Yelled at you, why? You’re making excuses for turning down life. Love, living. You make me bleed, just to wrestle free, and from what. My mere existence. You’ll hurt me, so I’ll let you go, but you don’t realise…