shiver.

i am disappointed, more than i can say
i'm trying to explain, but words are getting in the way
i am sadder than i have ever been, today -
stumbling, shivering, down memory lane..
where the words are hollow and the colors grey,
where the laughter is missing and in its place
is this silence that we have made
a stillness in which my heart silently breaks
with the knowledge that there can be no escape
from who we become and what we create.

you raise me up to more than i can be...

when i am down, and oh, my soul so weary

when troubles come, and my heart burdened be

then i am still and wait here in the silence

until you come and sit a while with me...

i miss you, achacha.

the memory of you makes me stronger. 

love, always.

untitled.

suffer at my side
we'll make the same mistakes
learn the lessons well
and make the mistakes again
break your misery down
honey, tear it right up
put the pieces into this paper cup
toss it in the sink
and just think about this...

the window is open
the sunlight is fading
and nothing is making
any sense anymore

but we stay silent
because that's how we like it
there is no reason to fight it
as we lie on this floor

well honey, i am ashamed
and i am sadder than i feign
but there is no need to explain
you are all i'm looking for.

name that tune!

the one in the address of my blog; starts with the lyrics no i would not sleep...
sans google (and other forms of outside help), if you please.

oh, and while i'm at it - let me make a shameless plug for www.howtodoitwrong.blogspot.com. it could do with a bit of readership. =)
--

i walk home alone with you
in the mood you're born into
sometimes you let me in
and i take it on the chin
i can't get clean again...
i want to know,
can we get clean again?

--

currently: barefoot, sleepy, wistful, slightly restless

i know why the caged bird sings

the door slammed shut, the noise ringing long after the finality of the action was driven home.

she stood shivering just inches inside the room, her bare feet soaking in the biting cold and carrying it to her arms and legs. barely still, as her emotions spun, chaotic. fear. anger. disbelief. hope. it was this last that made her turn around to look at the door once more. but the door remained in reality, unswayed by the fleeting hopes of the human heart. back was not an option.

so,
forward.
white, white - all around her white. white walls, and floors, white ceiling; pale glass at the windows, frosted from the winter cold. outside - snow, and clouds - frozen white.

the first hours were the hardest. she walked around the edge of the room, pacing at first, then slower and slower, but her mind refused the message, the thoughts racing - her heart beating furiously in her chest. plan after plan - escape, acceptance, revenge - made and inevitably tossed away.

when she sat down, her back against the wall - not in a corner, for no corners of comfort existed in this cold, circular, white room - it was resignation. sinking, cold. when she leapt up again to walk to the window and press her nose against the frosted glass it was - she didn't know what it was. or why she did it, just that she must. when she turned away from that window, it was despair. pure and simple, cutting.

when she wept, it was tears of glass - crystal, clear. fragile they were born, and fragile they fell - shattering silently against the polished floorboards. released, they lay - tiny gleaming, colorless pools reflecting the emptiness of the room.

the days, or perhaps they were hours, she couldn't know - passed. she cursed herself, her thoughts which let her be, deceptively silent in sleep, and tore at her, making up twice over for every second she was awake. she cursed the daylight for an unwelcome companion during the day, forcing her to face herself, and cursed it for abandoning her at night. she slept, she woke, she thought, she felt, she screamed, she slept.

then came an hour, a minute -
perhaps early morning, or afternoon or late evening,
she had lost track - the measurement meaningless.

suddenly, a precise point in time which slowed, and slipped into eternity. she treasured the silence, the stillness of the space in between each heartbeat. freedom, felt in the loss of time. unfettered. everything was of importance, and yet, nothing was. nothing at all.

and so in that moment she stood, in the center of the white room, painting pictures with her mind before the sound of a beat leapt up to wipe them clean. every picture painted in total clarity. again, and again - create, erase, create - listening, painting, feeling, shivering, entranced.

walking forward, she lifted her hands - cautiously, hesitant - to rest them against the walls.

when she breathed in - sharply, shallow - her breath drew comfort from the air, the pain reminding her of existence and realities, of fear and heartbreak, tangible and inescapable. with her fingers she traced designs on the smooth surfaces around her, her eyes closed and her mind free.

picking up a brush, she dipped it in paint and began - blues and greens, cold, cool, and warm. cerulean skies and indigo seas, dancing girls with sea-green hair and bright blue eyes. stars and silver, spun into pictures of hope and dreaming, wistful, ecstatic. gold and cream, buttercup yellows and molten oranges, shimmering, sunlight and sunsets, beautiful melodies and lazy summer days.

slowly, she painted the world onto the walls, her eyes closed, the brush held light in her hands. smiling, swaying to the music of a thousand orchestras, lilting strings and haunting harmonies - browns and golds, sepia, amber-bright, autumn breezes and children's laughter - she painted happiness and love, smiles, bright.

quickly, she painted, and at times the colors faded, lost their life - slipped into sorrow and loss, shadows. and in her mind, the music became louder - a slow crescendo - greys and whites and pale blues became darker, deeper, black, purples and reds; anger, fury, hate, screams, despair - she painted them out furiously onto her canvas, faster and faster. her brush became a blur as it spat out turmoil in a hundred shades red and grey. harder, faster, until she grew tired, until she painted it all out, laid it down on the walls around her - until, inside her, there was nothing but stillness.

acceptance.
slowly she stepped back, and slowly she opened her eyes.

white. emptiness. the walls wiped clean.
her hands, empty. no traces of paint.
her thoughts, empty. no traces of feeling.
finally at one with the surroundings.

in the center of the room, she stood in silence.
the infinite moment passed,
and she lay down on the cold, smooth floor,
closed her eyes,
and slept.

for the one who knows what i'm talking about.

do you feel like i do, tired of everything?

can you feel what i can, almost everything?

i want to leave today

the sky is big and my life is small

i want to leave with you...

a pause in the heartbeat of time.

we all have those moments in life where there's a stillness...
a complete, unasked for, inescapable pin-drop silence that resounds...
where nothing in your life seems tangible, where nothing you were sure about seems quite so certain.

and when you find yourself in those little still pools, moments where you are forced to just be, sit in the middle of a room and face the fact that these four walls are all you can be really sure about...
then, then there's no space for anything but you and your thoughts.

a pause in the heartbeat of time,
with nothing to do,
no one to be.

look back on everything that was and look forward to everything that could be, that should be...

i don't know what i want.
usually i'm good at keeping in tune with the fact that i've changed, but i've slipped up a bit this time.
death has changed me. being confronted with the evidence of my weaknesses has changed me. the sudden realization of time running out, having been wasted, having to be made up, has changed me. a friend lost and a friend gained.

maybe i do know what i want.

its simple, really.
i want my goals, i want to be good, and i want to be happy with myself again.
i want to be there for the people i love.
that's all.

i want you - cinematic razor sharp
i've missed you.
missed the smiles, the laughter, history quizzes...the music.

i want you - my best friend. i wish i could relive march 24th. there's so much i wanted to do.

i've tried being cynical.
i've tried saying i just don't have enough to give.
frankly, it sucks. its practical. its logical.
and it makes me utterly miserable.

not only that, it hurts people that i can't bear hurting.

i give up and give in, look for forgiveness.