Everyone should take a road trip in their life
There's a lot of time to think out on the wide open roads.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Blank loss
Sitting...
Watching the fire burn out is like watching you leave and fade out of my life
While staring blankly...
And reliving the time when our love wasn't enough to see us through
Leaving it...
To melt down into a puddle of nothing
Left stranded and empty
Watching the fire burn out is like watching you leave and fade out of my life
While staring blankly...
And reliving the time when our love wasn't enough to see us through
Leaving it...
To melt down into a puddle of nothing
Left stranded and empty
I'd do it again...
I'd love to retrace the steps we once walked
Down the path that lead us
To where our hearts first met
Down the path that lead us
To where our hearts first met
Airports
What is it about airports that I find to be so peaceful? Because when you think about it, the airport could be seen as one of the loneliest places.
Is it that I’ve spent so many of my younger years travelling with my family that I feel that child-like comfort and excitement when visiting the airport? Or is it the many life-changing trips that I’ve made on my own overseas that make me think of good times associated with this place? Whatever it is, I adore it.
Don’t get me wrong I’ve had many sad moments within these airport walls too. I’ve shed more than a few tears before hopping a flight and leaving behind a world that I know so well.
I hate leaving, not to mention being left and yet it is strange how liberating it can be.
It’s like suddenly, off I am and mid flight I always realise I’m half way between my two worlds. Between the places and faces that mean most to me in my life. What is to be made of these quiet moments of dancing thought?
I’ve got loved ones spread all over the world now, so I guess you could say there’s always somewhere to run should I require it. But away from land… up in the air, it’s usually just me. Which in everyday life doesn’t happen all that often and to be honest, never really has.
Perhaps it is up high, in these moments that I should feel truly at home or at peace? Not at the airport but in fact all those thousands of miles up in the air, hovering somewhere over a far-off land. Or maybe this is the time I should feel most alone? It’s always one extreme or the other with me and somehow, I am never fully convinced either way.
Being alone is one of my greatest fears. I have always been completely terrified of it. Scared of having no one to turn to and no place to run. I’ve been afraid of not having my life mapped out to ensure 100 percent comfort of commitment in every sense. This still frightens me, more than almost anything else. As I grow older, I hope to come to terms with this fear and face it in a more adult-like manner, rather than hopping a plane and leaving life in the habitual ritual I’ve created for myself.
Up there though, I lose all control and am forced to face those fears head on, completely alone. Up there… it’s just me, and the sky. Circling above the big bad world that awaits beneath. I hope to learn to how to embrace this level of freedom with my feet planted firmly on ground someday. For the moment though, the airport is my escape and the plane, my partner in crime.
Maybe this is why I’m so comforted by flying. Perhaps this is the one time in life when I am truly alone, left with nothing but my own thoughts and am forced to find a confidence I do not possess daily.
We’re always running out of time in our everyday lives, but in the air, it feels as though time does not exist. There’s nothing more precious than time if you use it correctly, so maybe this is my time to make the most of what it is my head is trying to tell me.
This morning as this ancient looking plane took off high into the air, I looked out the window and noticed a rainbow. Sometimes you ask for a sign and sometimes, although rarely, the world actually listens and gives you it.
I have had in the past and will continue to have life-altering experiences both in the air and on land, with people I love dearly. These adventures will always begin here… in an airport just like this one. In this brightly lit, bustling and timeless construction that opens its doors to the world every, single day. The nice thing about the airport is not knowing, who you may meet, why you meet them or when it’s going to happen. The world is smaller here, yet holds greater opportunity without the boundary of time.
If you take a moment and look around, there are a thousand stories waiting to be told. Some may be sad, some may be happy and some may be the stories told by children beaming with excitement regardless of the ungodly hour, which in that moment they stand. Perhaps they are stories that have become routine in someone’s life or maybe they are completely new. Perhaps though, the story is only half written, a little like my own and the transition is just another stop on the map of life. A quick touch down, check-in or stop-over before its time for the next chapter to begin.
Maybe some stories don’t know exactly where their journey will take them, but a plane with a direct route is a place to start. Or if nothing else, maybe it’s a place to sit in limbo while your brain scurries to figure it all out. A time waster, a manipulator of time, a spot where it can be twisted to suit the individual.
Sometimes I wonder if the many people flooding these halls think like me, or if they’re all too busy thinking about their own destinations.
It’s not that I don’t, because I too think of my destination… but in a different way. I think of my final destination, the place where my soul finds exactly what it’s always been looking for. There to me, is where I hope to find. I may still be far away from this place but the adventures in between are enough to keep me occupied for now.
There’s something nice about imagining a life like this, a different life. A different reason to fly. A different person waiting for you at the other end, with open arms and a smile because they know you’re everything they’ve been missing. Yes, there’s certainly something nice about airports and the unpredictable possibilities they can hold. But most of all, the life and experiences they are capable of bringing into your life.
As I said, there’s a certain peace I find here… and one day I believe I will get on one of those planes and finally know exactly where I am going… and not only that, but be one hundred percent content with my mid-air, alone moments of clarity.
I often think of a particular line from a favourite song of mine… that for whatever reason has always struck a chord with me and I’m left with the words ringing like a bell in my head.
“Airports see it all the time when someone’s last goodbye blends in with someone’s sigh, because someone’s coming home, in hand a single rose and that’s the way this wheel keeps working now.”
And isn’t this just the truth?
Is it that I’ve spent so many of my younger years travelling with my family that I feel that child-like comfort and excitement when visiting the airport? Or is it the many life-changing trips that I’ve made on my own overseas that make me think of good times associated with this place? Whatever it is, I adore it.
Don’t get me wrong I’ve had many sad moments within these airport walls too. I’ve shed more than a few tears before hopping a flight and leaving behind a world that I know so well.
I hate leaving, not to mention being left and yet it is strange how liberating it can be.
It’s like suddenly, off I am and mid flight I always realise I’m half way between my two worlds. Between the places and faces that mean most to me in my life. What is to be made of these quiet moments of dancing thought?
I’ve got loved ones spread all over the world now, so I guess you could say there’s always somewhere to run should I require it. But away from land… up in the air, it’s usually just me. Which in everyday life doesn’t happen all that often and to be honest, never really has.
Perhaps it is up high, in these moments that I should feel truly at home or at peace? Not at the airport but in fact all those thousands of miles up in the air, hovering somewhere over a far-off land. Or maybe this is the time I should feel most alone? It’s always one extreme or the other with me and somehow, I am never fully convinced either way.
Being alone is one of my greatest fears. I have always been completely terrified of it. Scared of having no one to turn to and no place to run. I’ve been afraid of not having my life mapped out to ensure 100 percent comfort of commitment in every sense. This still frightens me, more than almost anything else. As I grow older, I hope to come to terms with this fear and face it in a more adult-like manner, rather than hopping a plane and leaving life in the habitual ritual I’ve created for myself.
Up there though, I lose all control and am forced to face those fears head on, completely alone. Up there… it’s just me, and the sky. Circling above the big bad world that awaits beneath. I hope to learn to how to embrace this level of freedom with my feet planted firmly on ground someday. For the moment though, the airport is my escape and the plane, my partner in crime.
Maybe this is why I’m so comforted by flying. Perhaps this is the one time in life when I am truly alone, left with nothing but my own thoughts and am forced to find a confidence I do not possess daily.
We’re always running out of time in our everyday lives, but in the air, it feels as though time does not exist. There’s nothing more precious than time if you use it correctly, so maybe this is my time to make the most of what it is my head is trying to tell me.
This morning as this ancient looking plane took off high into the air, I looked out the window and noticed a rainbow. Sometimes you ask for a sign and sometimes, although rarely, the world actually listens and gives you it.
I have had in the past and will continue to have life-altering experiences both in the air and on land, with people I love dearly. These adventures will always begin here… in an airport just like this one. In this brightly lit, bustling and timeless construction that opens its doors to the world every, single day. The nice thing about the airport is not knowing, who you may meet, why you meet them or when it’s going to happen. The world is smaller here, yet holds greater opportunity without the boundary of time.
If you take a moment and look around, there are a thousand stories waiting to be told. Some may be sad, some may be happy and some may be the stories told by children beaming with excitement regardless of the ungodly hour, which in that moment they stand. Perhaps they are stories that have become routine in someone’s life or maybe they are completely new. Perhaps though, the story is only half written, a little like my own and the transition is just another stop on the map of life. A quick touch down, check-in or stop-over before its time for the next chapter to begin.
Maybe some stories don’t know exactly where their journey will take them, but a plane with a direct route is a place to start. Or if nothing else, maybe it’s a place to sit in limbo while your brain scurries to figure it all out. A time waster, a manipulator of time, a spot where it can be twisted to suit the individual.
Sometimes I wonder if the many people flooding these halls think like me, or if they’re all too busy thinking about their own destinations.
It’s not that I don’t, because I too think of my destination… but in a different way. I think of my final destination, the place where my soul finds exactly what it’s always been looking for. There to me, is where I hope to find. I may still be far away from this place but the adventures in between are enough to keep me occupied for now.
There’s something nice about imagining a life like this, a different life. A different reason to fly. A different person waiting for you at the other end, with open arms and a smile because they know you’re everything they’ve been missing. Yes, there’s certainly something nice about airports and the unpredictable possibilities they can hold. But most of all, the life and experiences they are capable of bringing into your life.
As I said, there’s a certain peace I find here… and one day I believe I will get on one of those planes and finally know exactly where I am going… and not only that, but be one hundred percent content with my mid-air, alone moments of clarity.
I often think of a particular line from a favourite song of mine… that for whatever reason has always struck a chord with me and I’m left with the words ringing like a bell in my head.
“Airports see it all the time when someone’s last goodbye blends in with someone’s sigh, because someone’s coming home, in hand a single rose and that’s the way this wheel keeps working now.”
And isn’t this just the truth?
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
The story told before its time... a story of me
What do you do with a story that you knew was told too early? Or with a feeling you know was too intense for the time at which it was felt?
Maybe you think about it and spend the next few years reliving it, over and over in your mind or heart until it hurts… or maybe you put it away as far out of reach as you can, and try your hardest to move on with the life you’ve made and chosen for yourself.
Different people live their lives differently and different people make different choices. This doesn’t mean either is right or wrong. Maybe it means the timing is bad.
It also doesn't mean the story has been erased or any less important than it was all those years before.
My choice has always been to chase until there is nothing left. I chase until I eventually tear down anything that was once built up so high. I chase because it is what I believe and everything I feel within my soul. I would never leave if I were to not be left. I would stay for as long as the world would have me.
The world knows this and I think that’s the exact reason it ends up spitting me out. Or again… perhaps it’s down to bad timing.
I’ve been intense for as long as I can remember. My story was told too early, my intensity too much, my feelings too deep… what a disappointment.
Maybe you think about it and spend the next few years reliving it, over and over in your mind or heart until it hurts… or maybe you put it away as far out of reach as you can, and try your hardest to move on with the life you’ve made and chosen for yourself.
Different people live their lives differently and different people make different choices. This doesn’t mean either is right or wrong. Maybe it means the timing is bad.
It also doesn't mean the story has been erased or any less important than it was all those years before.
My choice has always been to chase until there is nothing left. I chase until I eventually tear down anything that was once built up so high. I chase because it is what I believe and everything I feel within my soul. I would never leave if I were to not be left. I would stay for as long as the world would have me.
The world knows this and I think that’s the exact reason it ends up spitting me out. Or again… perhaps it’s down to bad timing.
I’ve been intense for as long as I can remember. My story was told too early, my intensity too much, my feelings too deep… what a disappointment.
Again with the time...
Maybe it’s not time any of us really need at all. Maybe time only delays us from finding what we’re truly destined to find. I have always relied on the notion that all any of us need is time. Time to heal, time to see, time to feel, time to recover, time to forget or time to discover. Time to live, time to laugh and more than that, time to love.
The more I live though, the more I begin to wonder if it is time we should place so much emphasis on or if time is the one thing holding us all back. I wonder if waiting for time to pass us by is keeping us far away from the lives the stars have mapped out for us.
I’ve found the most in my life once I stop looking, this is for certain. So maybe it’s not time at all. Maybe it’s the ability to stop seeking we all must aim for in order to find clarity.
Time and time again I have strived for greatness and not in the form most expect. Many people spend their lives striving for greatness in a literal sense. Not me, it’s greatness within I’ve spent my life searching for. It’s the knowledge of who I am really meant to be that I wish to possess. Why was I put here? And why do I do and feel in the ways that I do?
Love is my weakness and also my strength and has been for as long as I can remember.
I’ve loved in ways I believe many people would never understand. I love honestly and beyond reason. I love because it’s so often all that makes sense to me. But most of all, I love because I think people are worth it.
Love can cause pain though and I should know all about that kind of pain, as love will inevitably bring with it a sense of pain or loss. Especially for those who wear their heart on their sleeve in a manner similar to me. Not everything can be perfect forever afterall… or can it?
This is the question I have been pondering most often over the past few weeks. Why? I’m still unsure of why exactly I can’t shake this feeling from my system but it’s becoming a topic I’m not sure I want to hide from anymore.
If I am the kind of girl who throws herself at love without an ounce of fear, why is it I cannot throw myself at the truth and every aspect of life in the same way?
I’ve always been afraid of the truth. Especially the truth that lies within my very own soul because, you may think you know yourself so well and then suddenly, if you look beyond the surface, you find something unexpected. Sometimes theses surprises are welcomed and other times they’re not the kind of outcomes you had hoped for.
Maybe this is why I am frightened of my own truth. For such a long time I’ve kept it trapped inside a girl who very few truly know. Perhaps I am now so far from knowing myself that I’m afraid of uncovering what has been lost incase what I find is something I’ve been running from.
Why do people run? Why do we run from ourselves and others? We spend our entire lives running without stopping long enough to think about why we’re actually doing it. We all hold fear inside, often without realising and what I want to know is if what’s hidden inside is worthy of our fear. Worthy of the sleepless nights we waste wide-eyed and worried.
We can only learn this though by facing it head on. By letting go and diving in, head first, eyes opened and arms stretched out wide. This concept is scarier than almost any other I could imagine and this is exactly why I have spent so long in hiding. What I’m learning now is… all this time I’ve spent lingering in the hopes of repair may have sent me backward. All this time, I may have been hiding from myself.
Time, it’s the thing I thought I was giving myself to recover and re-discover… and it’s the same thing that has taken just as much away from me.
Someone told me once that my life is waiting and I am just too scared to take that plunge. Maybe this person knew me better than I thought… there is definitely a lot to think about. Then again, isn’t there always? So much to do and say and think… and nowhere near enough time to do it in….
The more I live though, the more I begin to wonder if it is time we should place so much emphasis on or if time is the one thing holding us all back. I wonder if waiting for time to pass us by is keeping us far away from the lives the stars have mapped out for us.
I’ve found the most in my life once I stop looking, this is for certain. So maybe it’s not time at all. Maybe it’s the ability to stop seeking we all must aim for in order to find clarity.
Time and time again I have strived for greatness and not in the form most expect. Many people spend their lives striving for greatness in a literal sense. Not me, it’s greatness within I’ve spent my life searching for. It’s the knowledge of who I am really meant to be that I wish to possess. Why was I put here? And why do I do and feel in the ways that I do?
Love is my weakness and also my strength and has been for as long as I can remember.
I’ve loved in ways I believe many people would never understand. I love honestly and beyond reason. I love because it’s so often all that makes sense to me. But most of all, I love because I think people are worth it.
Love can cause pain though and I should know all about that kind of pain, as love will inevitably bring with it a sense of pain or loss. Especially for those who wear their heart on their sleeve in a manner similar to me. Not everything can be perfect forever afterall… or can it?
This is the question I have been pondering most often over the past few weeks. Why? I’m still unsure of why exactly I can’t shake this feeling from my system but it’s becoming a topic I’m not sure I want to hide from anymore.
If I am the kind of girl who throws herself at love without an ounce of fear, why is it I cannot throw myself at the truth and every aspect of life in the same way?
I’ve always been afraid of the truth. Especially the truth that lies within my very own soul because, you may think you know yourself so well and then suddenly, if you look beyond the surface, you find something unexpected. Sometimes theses surprises are welcomed and other times they’re not the kind of outcomes you had hoped for.
Maybe this is why I am frightened of my own truth. For such a long time I’ve kept it trapped inside a girl who very few truly know. Perhaps I am now so far from knowing myself that I’m afraid of uncovering what has been lost incase what I find is something I’ve been running from.
Why do people run? Why do we run from ourselves and others? We spend our entire lives running without stopping long enough to think about why we’re actually doing it. We all hold fear inside, often without realising and what I want to know is if what’s hidden inside is worthy of our fear. Worthy of the sleepless nights we waste wide-eyed and worried.
We can only learn this though by facing it head on. By letting go and diving in, head first, eyes opened and arms stretched out wide. This concept is scarier than almost any other I could imagine and this is exactly why I have spent so long in hiding. What I’m learning now is… all this time I’ve spent lingering in the hopes of repair may have sent me backward. All this time, I may have been hiding from myself.
Time, it’s the thing I thought I was giving myself to recover and re-discover… and it’s the same thing that has taken just as much away from me.
Someone told me once that my life is waiting and I am just too scared to take that plunge. Maybe this person knew me better than I thought… there is definitely a lot to think about. Then again, isn’t there always? So much to do and say and think… and nowhere near enough time to do it in….
Monday, July 6, 2009
Tell the Truth...
When someone asks what it is you're thinking about... they're expecting something spectacular...
But if I ask you... I'm just looking for your truth.
But if I ask you... I'm just looking for your truth.
Everything Forgotten
Sometimes everything you thought you knew and everything you were 100% sure of ends up being everything you've forgotten and everything you were never taught.
Another You
What do you do when you suddenly see the world through the eyes of another...
The eyes of another you...
From times gone by.
The eyes of another you...
From times gone by.
Friday, July 3, 2009
A little something I'd like to share...
I've never been able to explain the bond that exists between my brother and me.
The closest I've ever come to describing it is that he's like my twin, only born two years apart.
Then I opened a card he wrote me for my 23rd Birthday...
I've always thought perhaps I have never been able to articulate what he means to me and my world because no one would understand. Then I read the card and realised he understands and not only that, but he also knows how to put it into words that I thought... maybe you would all get.
I know cards are usually quite personal, and indeed so is this one... however as words tend to be my life... I feel his words are ones that I'd like to share.
"Sister,
Someone who has enriched and enhanced a brother's life to no end.
You taught me, cared for me, helped me and above all loved me.
My other half, I would not have grown to be the person I am without you.
Today you inspire me more than ever, the beautiful person you have become.
You have a better sense of self than almost anyone I know.
Life is full of suprises and forks in the road but no matter where ours take us we will always have our other halves.
Love you always and forever."
The closest I've ever come to describing it is that he's like my twin, only born two years apart.
Then I opened a card he wrote me for my 23rd Birthday...
I've always thought perhaps I have never been able to articulate what he means to me and my world because no one would understand. Then I read the card and realised he understands and not only that, but he also knows how to put it into words that I thought... maybe you would all get.
I know cards are usually quite personal, and indeed so is this one... however as words tend to be my life... I feel his words are ones that I'd like to share.
"Sister,
Someone who has enriched and enhanced a brother's life to no end.
You taught me, cared for me, helped me and above all loved me.
My other half, I would not have grown to be the person I am without you.
Today you inspire me more than ever, the beautiful person you have become.
You have a better sense of self than almost anyone I know.
Life is full of suprises and forks in the road but no matter where ours take us we will always have our other halves.
Love you always and forever."
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Pancakes
Why is it I always end up making pancakes for the people I love?
When I think back over my relationships... the memories of me standing over the stove (usually in my PJs) making the pancakes, are some of the fondest.
For some strange reason, making pancakes seem to symbolise peace and a happy heart... or at least to me they do. I relate that image to times when I was fully content within a relationship. I often found myself forming hearts in the pan while my head wandered off to that giddy place.
I only usually have the patience for pancakes when I'm on that kind of happy high. The high that only love can cause in me.
Funny isn't it? What pancakes seem to mean to me. They mean that warm, fuzzy and blissful feeling... that feeling of love.
If I ever made you pancakes... consider yourself lucky, it probably means I loved you a lot.
And if I haven't... there's always tomorrow. x
When I think back over my relationships... the memories of me standing over the stove (usually in my PJs) making the pancakes, are some of the fondest.
For some strange reason, making pancakes seem to symbolise peace and a happy heart... or at least to me they do. I relate that image to times when I was fully content within a relationship. I often found myself forming hearts in the pan while my head wandered off to that giddy place.
I only usually have the patience for pancakes when I'm on that kind of happy high. The high that only love can cause in me.
Funny isn't it? What pancakes seem to mean to me. They mean that warm, fuzzy and blissful feeling... that feeling of love.
If I ever made you pancakes... consider yourself lucky, it probably means I loved you a lot.
And if I haven't... there's always tomorrow. x
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Irrelevant Now...
Has it really been so long?
So long since that time when I understood you so well?
Would I still understand you today? Or is this new you, the real you?
It's funny how quickly time can past and how much can change.
As long as you're happy... but even that's questionable.
Maybe I never knew you enough to begin with?
It's irrelevant now anyway.
So long since that time when I understood you so well?
Would I still understand you today? Or is this new you, the real you?
It's funny how quickly time can past and how much can change.
As long as you're happy... but even that's questionable.
Maybe I never knew you enough to begin with?
It's irrelevant now anyway.
Monday, June 22, 2009
When not a lot has changed at heart
It's been far too long since I last blogged.
My life has been riddled with pages of media ethics, excel documents and powerpoint presentations and also a work place that treats me like a doormat.
These are all possible reasons for the lack of blogging as of late.
I am glad though that I am nearly through with the studying side of the scale and excited about what lies beyond the next 6 weeks.
I'm sure I will have plenty to say during the remaining six weeks in Sydney and the days following our departure.
I better anyway... because it's all I want to do. Write and write and write.
Nearly 2am... I am still awake... and the rain has just begun... funny, nothing seems to have changed.
My life has been riddled with pages of media ethics, excel documents and powerpoint presentations and also a work place that treats me like a doormat.
These are all possible reasons for the lack of blogging as of late.
I am glad though that I am nearly through with the studying side of the scale and excited about what lies beyond the next 6 weeks.
I'm sure I will have plenty to say during the remaining six weeks in Sydney and the days following our departure.
I better anyway... because it's all I want to do. Write and write and write.
Nearly 2am... I am still awake... and the rain has just begun... funny, nothing seems to have changed.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
the hideous humans
What I hate, is people who know nothing about you. Those individuals who presume to know everything about you, but who couldn't be further from the truth. What's worse is, they're usually people who don't actually know much about anything at all. It's somehow, always these people who tend to talk a lot. They talk and talk, but the many words they speak are nothing but wasted breath. A lifeless mumble and droning tone, ringing constantly in your mind. Empty, worthless, words.
These people are often some of life's nastiest. The cruel individuals, filled with cruel and dishonorable intentions. They tend to comment on situations that have nothing to do with them and they revel in the knowledge they have shaken a body of feathers.
What is the purpose of a life lead in such a manner?
It makes me physically ill. People like this disgust me.
People like this may waste their words, but people like this are a waste of our world.
These people are often some of life's nastiest. The cruel individuals, filled with cruel and dishonorable intentions. They tend to comment on situations that have nothing to do with them and they revel in the knowledge they have shaken a body of feathers.
What is the purpose of a life lead in such a manner?
It makes me physically ill. People like this disgust me.
People like this may waste their words, but people like this are a waste of our world.
Red Beast, White Heart
What is it to you
What I do with my life?
Your crazy, messed up hair
Springing in every direction
Like dead branches from a tree
You hide behind fire-enraged eyes
That light up at the chance to kill
In your murderous thirst
You hunt down your prey
You'll feast on their flesh
In the bloodiest of ways
Drink from their wounds
Chant before their remains
Giving yourself life
As you take theirs heartlessly away
So cold to touch
Is the lifeless shell you toss aside
The scene is bitter-sweet
Through the spectators eyes
As some are just like you
Bitter to the core
Rejected from the world
They relish in your beastly delight
While others hide in the corner
Wait for your storm to pass
Hoping for a ray of sunshine
Blessed with hearts of white
Feral like a cat
Who has been left alone to stray
Catching mice to feed on
Is your tormenting and hideous way
Chewing on your words
As you chewed up all of me
Spat me on the floor
For the whole world to see
You're not worth the light
I hold inside my soul
And maybe you'll never feel the pain
You inflict upon this world
But you may also never know the life
Of one who owns a pure white heart.
What I do with my life?
Your crazy, messed up hair
Springing in every direction
Like dead branches from a tree
You hide behind fire-enraged eyes
That light up at the chance to kill
In your murderous thirst
You hunt down your prey
You'll feast on their flesh
In the bloodiest of ways
Drink from their wounds
Chant before their remains
Giving yourself life
As you take theirs heartlessly away
So cold to touch
Is the lifeless shell you toss aside
The scene is bitter-sweet
Through the spectators eyes
As some are just like you
Bitter to the core
Rejected from the world
They relish in your beastly delight
While others hide in the corner
Wait for your storm to pass
Hoping for a ray of sunshine
Blessed with hearts of white
Feral like a cat
Who has been left alone to stray
Catching mice to feed on
Is your tormenting and hideous way
Chewing on your words
As you chewed up all of me
Spat me on the floor
For the whole world to see
You're not worth the light
I hold inside my soul
And maybe you'll never feel the pain
You inflict upon this world
But you may also never know the life
Of one who owns a pure white heart.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Crying at the make-believe world
I was just wondering, why people often cry in movies or at TV shows?Because I am guilty of this very thing, and it happens more frequently than I care to admit.
The other night I was watching a movie you might have heard of called "Marley and Me". A film in which, two of my favourite actors are the lead roles. It's about a dog though. A large part of it at least. Albeit an incredibly gorgeous dog, a dog... period. You'd think there would be some sort of further storyline to accompany such a bizarre concept, but no... it's kinda, purely about the dog. My boy and I were discussing throughout, how it could be likened to one of those terrible, G-rated, family movies that more often than not, go straight to DVD. I'm sounding harsh here, and I'm not meant to, because what I'm coming to is this; I am a big, wussy, wah-wah, cry baby. Even when watching a movie such as Marley and Me. Only, rather than watching a G-rated flick and crying for days about it, as I would have when I was 10, I am now 23 years old and it seems, not so much has changed.
Yes, I'm rather ashamed of myself, but at the same time, it's made me wonder WHY?
I cried at the end of Valkerie too you know, in fact, I completely lost it and exploded into breathless sobs... and I don't even like Tom Cruise! I also cried during most episodes of this years Biggest Loser and when I say most, I mean, my cheeks were wet more than they were ever dry! And the lastest was One Tree Hill, yep, that got me too! Every time. The episode when Peyton walks in to find her birth mother dead, now that was a killer! But again... WHY? What is my problem?
Why do we feel emotions so strongly even when what we're viewing has been created in a make believe world? Or is this a problem that lays solely with me?
When you find the answer, please let me know... I have a feeling my mind could benefit enormously from such knowledge. Perhaps then, the boy wont have to hold me in his arms as I cry uncontrollably while he does his best to hold back the bouts of laughter waiting to escape.
Yes, the ability to manage my over-emotional personality mixed with my over-active tear producing eyes, would be a skill I'd love to master.
The other night I was watching a movie you might have heard of called "Marley and Me". A film in which, two of my favourite actors are the lead roles. It's about a dog though. A large part of it at least. Albeit an incredibly gorgeous dog, a dog... period. You'd think there would be some sort of further storyline to accompany such a bizarre concept, but no... it's kinda, purely about the dog. My boy and I were discussing throughout, how it could be likened to one of those terrible, G-rated, family movies that more often than not, go straight to DVD. I'm sounding harsh here, and I'm not meant to, because what I'm coming to is this; I am a big, wussy, wah-wah, cry baby. Even when watching a movie such as Marley and Me. Only, rather than watching a G-rated flick and crying for days about it, as I would have when I was 10, I am now 23 years old and it seems, not so much has changed.
Yes, I'm rather ashamed of myself, but at the same time, it's made me wonder WHY?
I cried at the end of Valkerie too you know, in fact, I completely lost it and exploded into breathless sobs... and I don't even like Tom Cruise! I also cried during most episodes of this years Biggest Loser and when I say most, I mean, my cheeks were wet more than they were ever dry! And the lastest was One Tree Hill, yep, that got me too! Every time. The episode when Peyton walks in to find her birth mother dead, now that was a killer! But again... WHY? What is my problem?
Why do we feel emotions so strongly even when what we're viewing has been created in a make believe world? Or is this a problem that lays solely with me?
When you find the answer, please let me know... I have a feeling my mind could benefit enormously from such knowledge. Perhaps then, the boy wont have to hold me in his arms as I cry uncontrollably while he does his best to hold back the bouts of laughter waiting to escape.
Yes, the ability to manage my over-emotional personality mixed with my over-active tear producing eyes, would be a skill I'd love to master.
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