2secondsofsilence

Week after week would pass by. And week after week I'd feel like I had failed at something. Failed at living. Miserably. Failed at being myself. I wanted to write works for generations to unveil, I wanted to create masterpieces for the minds to unravel. Create melodies to drown hearts. Week after week I'd feel how painful my existence was. Even regardless of the ever-present burning reminding me of my ever-so-caged leached innermost desires and creative urges that weren't acted out. Their fading self-destruction burned holes into the surface of the dying star that was my soul. What the surrounding world considered fun pastimes just sent

... to believe in you some day, would you keep believing in yourself? A heap of bones, not doing what to do with myself. Songs are the trains that take me into the past, to who I used to be, an older version of the me. I wonder if they're still alive, or just how alive they are. Inspiration strikes, and I create, adding to the transient circle. It feels like it is being sparked by something or someone, yet at the same time I feel more alone than I can bear at times. Is there anything? Staring into the abyss of the eye of the beast that threatens to swallow me, but has never stopped the breathing to the steady beat. So I have to breath

It is like walking down stairs. Into the vast dark shadowland of your mind. But you cannot keep that hatchway locked forever. Walking down slowly and hesitant, overly conscious but with bounded rationality, only to look back and speed up eventually, to end up running from the warning voice in the back of your mind, tripping and losing control over the descent. You fall. Sometimes  you end up following  the eeriest feeling leading you down there, the Sirens of your heart luring you onto a ship that is about to crash and be shattered at the rocks of the present and the one reality. Once more. You have to get up before y

 A song I will never hear And a letter I'll never get All the pictures I'll never paint Of all the people I will never forget

My heart recalls a picture - somewhat blurry and distorted - Of time spent lying by the fireside At a place that is no more. When I try to really see it It gets swept away by thoughts All I knew - its sight, it warmed me - Has no meaning at the core. I was wandering those rooms again, Empty spaces, not a sound; And I thought: Why long for company If it never stays around? Like those glowing charcoals cooling off My memories start to fade. Too much like all the company - Not as immortal as Suede.

Second worst dream I tried desperately to be of any meaning in your life. Virtual game Real shame That this is the means I resort to, being at a state where people around me don't matter anymore, I don't really care about those that do care temporarily. I try so hard to be accepted and illusively loved in a world full of pixels, lights and sounds, a cold world, not letting me close enough to the fire to get warmed. A world that makes me miss things that aren't there like a crazy person. Two decades without love is too long a time to not suffer from delusion of some sorts. It's also an exceptional state, a boat rocking on the

59 minutes till my birthday. Change waiting at the doorstep. I see through my illusion now. I see now how it is not you hurting me, but my mind. My stubborn blind naive mind driven by the all-encompassing urge to be loved. Genuinely requited. But not by him. I see that now. It does not matter what it could have been. Or who he is. Or who i was. But who I am now. There is so much out there, so much more to drown in than my mind suggested. I will let you go. I let you go already. Go already. Without descending into melodrama. I have no regrets. I have more memories. And the ability to relive them without feeling too much. Chapter 2 of my

You are still the only one able to create this place. It is a somewhat tainted place, and it is none without shadows, but it is our world nevertheless. It is the place where i can come to rest my scattered mind. We may have to leave, but we can always come back. It is us who built it, and it is us who can destroy it. Sadly it is enough if one of us decides upon that - That would be the irreversible verdict. Irreversible but not absolute, for it is change and not total demolition. My universe is a crumbling one. Full of pieces of memories. And tons of thoughts. But thanks to you I feel alive when I'm awake. I'll leave something b

I feel okay again. Granted not happy, but not like I'm losing ground and just falling. It's not like I would never stop falling anymore. More like I'm hovering, thinking that i should try not to think. Trying not to think. And feeling good meanwhile.       Searching for alternative ways to go. Thinking doesn't turn out to be so bad, if i just don't feel. It's not the people that are not replaceable, it is the way they made us feel. That's what makes us miss them - the feeling they gave us. It's the feeling special and appreciated and accepted and loved that we miss. And there are many people out there that can make me feel that w

Crossroads Driving in a car at night Transient dream, limited time So lucid and bright - An acidly beautiful crime Feeling alive when I was awake, Thanks to you And I'm willing to suffer for your smile's sake, I know this much is true. - There by the window, quitely killed for you - Give me truth I said, quoting Thoreau, Worry less about me I say, Care less - You just say no. I insisted on being in your life, more than twice, my bad; Torn apart at the hands of a child, A child seeking for requited love. We did admit we've gone too far... What you adore here is the light of a dying star. Part of you is not enough, not