Have you ever been in love? Perhaps this is a normal and obvious question as the answer. But what happen when we fall in love and after the relationship is over, our mind doesn’t get it and it is like if the course of our brain is just spinning and spinning ‘round the same unusual and pathetic thing?
Why we people do constant keep beloved failed things in heart? Like if they’re never going to die. I don’t like this kind of nature, when we do our special rituals to keep things in a “certain” place where certainly we are even not sure it those things are there or just dry as autumn leaves, falling and falling with our faithful whispering.
I don’t think it’s not that I can’t survive or I’m afraid to say it was the best I could ever have, or lived or… heard, or taste or smell or hug or kiss or… What if we keep valuable things (but spontaneous) in a woodbox? If we do not let them free, the only thing we can get I guess is nice. But, hard thoughts concerning a theme, which more than a renewal, turns into an old and broken being.
Why we can defeat wondering we can manage it and we can “survive”. Was Gloria Gaynor (was it?) so sure about her song? I think I will but the small letters in the contract were “short periods of time do not count in here”.
Then, I guess I might push and look further.
How’s the sky tonight? I guess it’s been long time since I saw a star up there. I think it was a moon eclipse in my birthday… Is it a promise of the fenix? Survive and come back from the ashes? I wish we can put away all bad dusty thoughts, chained thoughts, and become this into a very brand new start. I think my new year had two dates, the normal one (“normal counting on with Chinese and Christian and so on calendars”) and my birthday. I used to think birthdays are too corny but it’s not exactly presents what we see, a box of chocolates, necklaces, blouses… It is just one and “simple” thing, the day we started breathing. This answers me something I had in mind last weeks. Now I understand when was the day I was really alive and this day, was the day I enjoyed for first time the miracle of life.
Why we people do constant keep beloved failed things in heart? Like if they’re never going to die. I don’t like this kind of nature, when we do our special rituals to keep things in a “certain” place where certainly we are even not sure it those things are there or just dry as autumn leaves, falling and falling with our faithful whispering.
I don’t think it’s not that I can’t survive or I’m afraid to say it was the best I could ever have, or lived or… heard, or taste or smell or hug or kiss or… What if we keep valuable things (but spontaneous) in a woodbox? If we do not let them free, the only thing we can get I guess is nice. But, hard thoughts concerning a theme, which more than a renewal, turns into an old and broken being.
Why we can defeat wondering we can manage it and we can “survive”. Was Gloria Gaynor (was it?) so sure about her song? I think I will but the small letters in the contract were “short periods of time do not count in here”.
Then, I guess I might push and look further.
How’s the sky tonight? I guess it’s been long time since I saw a star up there. I think it was a moon eclipse in my birthday… Is it a promise of the fenix? Survive and come back from the ashes? I wish we can put away all bad dusty thoughts, chained thoughts, and become this into a very brand new start. I think my new year had two dates, the normal one (“normal counting on with Chinese and Christian and so on calendars”) and my birthday. I used to think birthdays are too corny but it’s not exactly presents what we see, a box of chocolates, necklaces, blouses… It is just one and “simple” thing, the day we started breathing. This answers me something I had in mind last weeks. Now I understand when was the day I was really alive and this day, was the day I enjoyed for first time the miracle of life.
