Dimensions

0 voices


Si antes he escrito aqui sobre excusas, siempre ha sido para darle cierto sentido de bases sólidas en las cuales descansan muchas de nuestras acciones. Pero como bien aprendemos en nuestra sociedad, las excusas no son vistas como razones de peso, sino mas bien como mentiras inyectadas en esas decisiones para no tener que explicar mucho... o para evitar la culpa de decisiones que Sabemos, no son las mas adecuadas.

Pero somos todos adultos, decidimos y aprendemos a vivir con las decisiones tomadas... Somos (heh) lo suficientemente inteligentes como para entender que no existen distintas definiciones para lo que debe ser considerado malo o bueno dentro de los conocidos contextos, y las reglas por las cuales vivimos. Pero, como siempre lo he expuesto, cada quien da un valor agregado muy diferente a cada acción y decisión; lo único que va dentro de un acuerdo mundial es el hecho de que las decisiones sólo se viven, no se reviven.

Las consecuencias son nefastas, y nunca positivas. Las decisiones son, o deben ser, esas bases sobre las cuales apoyar futuras decisiones... no excusas baratas de nuestro rumbo o la forma en la cual recorremos ciertos caminos. El asunto esta en las dimensiones que cada quien es capaz de darle a esa idea, tanta inteligencia y tanto razonamiento contenido en pequeñas cabezas que andan por alli conectándose cada vez con más y más perspectivas.

Lo importante en sí de este post no es ponerse muy profundos en el tema, pero si hacer ver la importancia de las dimensiones que le damos a las decisiones tomadas; depende siempre de un punto de vista interno y no externo. Son plantadas en nuestro camino y se manejan entre razones, excusas, dudas y buenas/malas intenciones... siempre y cuando se disfrute lo realizado y los colores guíen las ideas.

Lyrics by Oasis

Take the time to make some sense
Of what you want to say
And cast your words away upon the waves
Bring them back with Acquiesce
On a ship of hope today
And as they fall upon the shore
Tell them not to fear no more
Say it loud and sing it proud
And they...

Will dance if they want to dance
Please brother take a chance
You know they're gonna go
Which way they wanna go
All we know is that we don't know --
What is gonna be
Please brother let it be
Life on the other hand won't let you understand
Why we're all part of the masterplan

I'm not saying right is wrong
It's up to us to make
The best of all things that come our way
And all the things that came have past
The answer's in the looking glass
There's four and twenty million doors
Down life's endless corridor
Say it loud and sing it proud
And they...

Will dance if they want to dance
Please brother take a chance
You know they're gonna go
Which way they wanna go
All we know is that we don't know
What is gonna be
Please brother let it be
Life on the other hand won't let you understand
Why we're all part of the masterplan
Read On

Chromatic Vision

1 voices

Here we go. As I said before, it will remain.

If I'm still right about certain things, I believe my shadow is going around there still and I feel there're some things I need to write here. For those that come looking for something they don't know they just lost.

People have missions in their lives. We all come to this world to do something and to perform in a certain way, most of us need some time to figure it out and some others just get it very fast. Those that understand their mission are people that can give a lot of themselves to others and know exactly how to manage their abilities as missionaries.

This is not about my mission, 'cause I pretty much know what it is. But about someone's mission that keeps on taking space and energy from my mind; a mission that I've loved and hated for all I've known it. A mission of ideals and perspectives that I tried to understand as much as I could, but a mission that endend with my resignation to that commitment. You and your ideal of changing people.

For what I could study, and knowing you as much as I did/do I can say I know exactly what it means, that mission of reinventing perspectives for others. If there's something good about your mission is that you have that ability to observe others, an ability that no one else has. And you can get to know other people very deep and quickly, how? I don't know and I stopped wondering a long time ago. But still, I've always felt that it's difficult for you and that ability to function properly, if you try to get your mission done.

It's being right about something but knowing when to interfere and when to step aside. 'Cause if your mission is to show people how good they can be, then you need to step in and make some actions so words could become facts. Changing people based on what you think is better for them could be considered pretty selfish and as for me, I would say it is selfish indeed based on this: how can you define what's best for people if you are not the one that define their priorities? What happened in my case was similar, there were things you thought I could change or do better, but for me they were just fine and I was happy with the way I was living my life, but that was never enough for you.

I get frustrated sometimes, thinking about this... not for me, but for you. I feel it's a waste for some people the fact that you have so much to offer and the channels are never right or willing to make it pass. And for you, that refuse to understand that your vision of people doesn't always have to be right or correct. If you could just forget about inviting people to your plane and just enjoy your ride, things might be better for you.

Why am I writing all this? just because as much as I died and came back to life... You mission for me still remains and I can't help waiting for other things to happen in your life. Stop expecting too much from others, you do pretty well expecting a lot from yourself and that should be enough.

P.S.: don't get confused on the lyrics.. yeap you, no, not you. These are for you.

Lyrics by Alanis M.

If it weren't for your maturity none of this would have happened
If you weren't so wise beyond your years I would've been able to control myself
If it weren't for my attention you wouldn't have been successful and
If it weren't for me you would never have amounted to very much

Ooh this could be messy
But you don't seem to mind
Ooh don't go telling everybody
And overlook this supposed crime

We'll fast forward to a few years later
And no one knows except the both of us
And I have honored your request for silence
And you've washed your hands clean of this

You're essentially an employee and I like you having to depend on me
You're kind of my prot¨¦g¨¦ and one day you'll say you learned all you know from me
I know you depend on me like a young thing would to a guardian
I know you sexualize me like a young thing would and I think I like it

Ooh this could get messy
But you don't seem to mind
Ooh don't go telling everybody
And overlook this supposed crime

We'll fast forward to a few years later
And no one knows except the both of us
And I have honored your request for silence
And you've washed your hands clean of this

what part of our history's reinvented and under rug swept?
what part of your memory is selective and tends to forget?
what with this distance it seems so obvious?

Just make sure you don't tell on me especially to members of your family
We best keep this to ourselves and not tell any members of our inner posse
I wish I could tell the world cuz you're such a pretty thing when you're done up properly
I might want to marry you one day if you watch that weight and keep your firm body

Ooh this could be messy and
Ooh I don't seem to mind
Ooh don't go telling everybody
And overlook this supposed crime
Read On

Lies Lies Lies

2 voices

De vez en cuando muy necesarias, pero estructuralmente tan complejas.

Existe un patrón común en todas las personas, y no es en si mentir... sino en las razones para mentir. Aún cuando existen varias excusas, todas se basan en algo circunstancial: inseguridad.

Mentimos por nosotros, por otros, por ideales, por acciones, por objetos, por situaciones, pero siempre mentiras guiadas por inseguridad, inseguridad de aceptar ciertas realidades. Así que nos resulta más fácil mentir que armarnos de fuerzas y abrir nuestras mentes para aceptar cambios necesarios que se vienen queramos o no.

Se acumulan las mentiras, como piezas de lego una sobre la otra, encajando perfectamente y pareciendo ser lo suficientemente fuertes como para no caer; pero no se ha calculado aún la duración del efecto de dichas mentiras. Eventualmente caen, y somos expuestos a afrontar situaciones que pensamos estaban bien ocultas, elevadas en esas piezas tan falsas. Nuestro ambiente de pronto parece cambiar y es momento de afrontar nuestra realidad.

Pero mientras, seguimos acumulando mentiras pequeñas o más grandes... Mentiras que nos ayudan a seguir la corriente mientras arrastramos sin saber una carga de verdades, que en cierto punto del camino se cansarán de ir como equipaje, y querrán ser manifestadas. Porque somos capaces de creernos ese bienestar sólo porque nuestro inconsciente conoce las consecuencias de traer al frente esas mentiras.

Mentimos y hacemos de esas mentiras realidades diarias, que parecen convertirse en parte de nuestro entorno. Tanto es el tiempo que podemos pasar con esa mentira sobre nuestro costado que se ve distorcionada nuestra realidad, tanto así es el poder que se puede llegar a tener cuando simplemente nos negamos a aceptar algo. Nos mentimos y nos tragamos nuestras mentiras.

Asi que, aún cuando se este limitando más el espacio para respirar al acumular o agrandar tanto ciertas mentiras, se mantiene la realidad lo suficientemente falsa como para disfrutar de esas estructuras, porque si se decide destapar ciertas mentiras, esa realidad cambiaría por completo, y algunos simplemente no están listos para verse reflejados en sus propias verdades.

Lyrics by Nickelback

Well you can dig me up a grave
And try and stick me in the ground
Well you can tie me to the bed
And try and beat me half to death
But you can never keep me down
Well you can stick me in a hole
And you can pray all day for rain
You can shoot me in the leg
Just to try to make me beg
And you can leave me there for days

And I’ll stay alive
Just to follow you home
And I will survive
‘Cause you’re my Mississippi Princess
You’re my California Queen
Like the Duchess of Detroit
And every city in between
You can slap me in the face
You can scream profanity
Leave me here to die alone but
I’ll still follow you home
I’ll still follow you home

You can make a couple calls
And tell your brothers I’m in town
Put a bounty on my head
And tell my parents that I’m dead
And hope to hell I’m never found
You can steal me the keys
To your daddy’s Cadillac
Well you can tamper with the brakes
Call it a mistake
And pray I’m never coming back

And I’ll stay alive
Just to follow you home
And I will survive
‘Cause you’re my Mississippi Princess
You’re my California Queen
Like the Duchess of Detroit
And every city in between
You can slap me in the face
You can scream profanity
Leave me here to die alone but
I’ll still follow you home
I’ll still follow you home

You can dig me up a grave
And try and stick me in the ground
You can tie me to the bed
And try and beat me half to death
But you can never keep me down

And I will survive
‘Cause you’re my Mississippi Princess
You’re my California Queen
Like the Duchess of Detroit
And every city in between
You can slap me in the face
You can scream profanity
Leave me here to die alone but
I’ll still follow you home
Read On

If I Had An Airplane

6 voices

Primeramente le pondría nombre, porque como tener un 'artefacto' y no nombrarlo; sería George, y se convertiría en mi mejor aliado para la mayor aventura a punto de ser recorrida.

Comenzaría por cruzar el océano para llegar a Tenerife y retomar momentos de incesables conversaciones sobre temas ya memorizados entre los cuales estarían las mejores experiencias vividas de colegio, pasando un momentos maravillosos mientras retomo gratos recuerdos de mi vida con dos niñas extremadamente especiales para mi. Un viaje que jamás sería suficiente por todas las cosas que se inventarían.

Luego iría a un lugar muy lejos de casa pero tan cerca de mi, un sitio llamado Isarael que jamás pensé visitaría, pero que es increiblemente necesario hacerlo. Allí me encontraría por primera vez con un gigante con corazón de oro que se ha convertido en una de las personas más importantes en mi vida, a través de comunicaciones neutras sin encuentros algunos. Nos iríamos a comprar botellas de vino para luego echarnos en algún parque a hablar de la vida como se que no hablaría con nadie mas... Decir adios sería increiblemente difícil luego de tan intensa visita.

Regresando a mi continente haría una parada en Panama, y pasaría unos días divirtiéndome y riendo hasta que me duela el vientre compartiendo historias, chistes y pesadas bromas con el mejor companero de viaje que podría pedir. Nos iríamos a bailar hasta que nos duelan los pies y haríamos planes para viajar por todo el mundo pasando frío o calor, reclamándole que a veces no sabe donde esta.. O dirvirtiéndome mientras nos burlamos de tantas cosas. Despedirme sería muy triste...

Luego regresaría a Europa un par de días, para hacer una visita en Italia, donde una persona extremadamente especial me recibiría para tener las conversaciones más profundas o banales que se pueden tener sobre situaciones existenciales, mientras conmemoro mis bases en gustos musicales escuchando Hey Mercedes, Brandtson (lo viejo), Jimmy Eat World, The Appleseed Cast, Bloc Party, Death Cab For Cutie, Liars Academy, Incubus y muchos otros. Una persona que ha sabido mantenerse cerca después de tantos años y a la cual despediría con una gran sonrisa.

Volando de regreso a Venezuela, haría una parada en Caracas (cuidado! jaja) y estacionaría a George un rato porque son varias las visitas en esta ciudad. Primero iría a buscar un chivito algo viejo pero lleno de amor, de esos que puedes guardarlo en la nevera y morderlo un poco todos los días sin nunca acabarse o ponerse malo... Alguien increiblemente especial que al venir y leer esto, reirá casi tanto como yo rio cada vez que decide alegrarme el día. Nos iríamos a algun sitio donde comer rico y reirnos toda la tarde.

Luego cierta canción me conduciría a una persona que recientemente se ha hecho espacio en esta caja de gente tan especial mia, pasaríamos un rato asombrándonos como pareciera que estuviésemos hablando un lenguaje que nadie más comprende al conversar sobre temas tan compartidos. Nos sentaríamos un martes escuchando Trapt y quizás una que otra canción vergonzosa (Ruleta) mientras escucho todas esas formas de pensar que dan tanto color a mis perspectivas. Luego de reir un poco diría adios y le haría prometer tocar su guitarra más seguido.

Buscaria a una persona con la cual me encanta hablar y la invitaria a hacernos un desayuno de esos que ninguna de las dos sabe preparar y al ver que nada sale bien, otra loquita vendria a salvarnos haciendo unas arepitas (la mejor companera de juego!), quizas escuchando frou frou o hablando paja. Al despedirme diria: Ana cuando vuelves? Por que no te mudas?

Justo antes de partir de esta ciudad, una forma de vida que conocí hace un tiempo me llevaría hacia una persona increiblemente desconocida, pero tan familiar. Una caja musical que transformó por completo mi sentido de la audición sumándole bases y nuevas fuerzas internas que desconocía, un stranger que aporta compañía de la forma más ausente posible. Do It Alone sonaría, iniciando una lista de reproducción infinita que haría honor a tan divertida forma de “estar bien”, creando un Soundtrack de perspectivas mientras conversamos sobre todas aquellas cosas en las cuales no coincidimos, refutando cada idea o cada frase... Cuanto hará la suma de 11 + 7?

Retomando a George me iría al norte. Donde visitaría tres mujeres increiblemente maravillosas; dos de ellas con las cuales pude convivir por unos meses y me apoyaron en momentos difíciles, dos locas que se convirtieron en personas muy especiales para mi. Y otra que ha sido parte de mi vida desde hace ya tiempo y que logra mantenerse cerca de mi con sus ocurrencias, loqueras, ventas, ideas y siempre buenas energías para todo. Lo más probable es que las 4 nos vayamos a algún sitio a tomar algo de licor hasta desmayarnos, escuchando canciones memorables para cada quien: Everybody's Changing, I Love You Baby y la peor de todas... la del burro jajaja. Decir adiós sería muy triste pero siempre disfrutando el haber compartido momentos de loqueras con las tres.

Ya luego regresaría a casa, guardaría a George en una gaveta y seguiría con mi realidad de siempre... Procurando retomar el viaje al menos una vez al año :)


Lyrics by Relient K

I'm so tired of the phone, baby
I don't like the tone
of the way we say "I love you"
a thousand times.
We say those words but we can't look into each other's eyes.

Oh, and I guess we made it,
or at least we made it this far,
and it all looks smooth from here.
Oh, and in a future day there may be ways
but I must say, the skys have never looked so clear.
Oh, and I guess we made it,
'cause it ain't far to go from here.

I'm so tired of the road, baby,
Driving through the snow
Just maybe, you'll sit back,
Think about the times when we said those words
and we looked into each other's eyes.
Oh, and I guess we made it,
or at least we made it this far,
and it all looks smooth from here.
Oh, and in a future day, there may be ways
but I must say, the skys have never looked so clear.
Oh, and I guess we made it,
'cause it ain't far to go from here.

You have given me a heart attack, you'll never know
What it's like to have to face the fact you might let go
And I won't stand for any thought of that, Heavens no.
'Cause I will cling to you and always have a stronger hold.

Oh, and I guess we made it,
or at least we made it this far,
and it all looks smooth from here,
Oh, and in a future day there may be ways
but, I must say the skys have never looked so clear to me, baby.
Oh and I guess we made it,
'cause it ain't far to go from here
Read On

Versions Of Emotion

4 voices


En la espera de esta entrada número 300 de mi blog, estuve reflexionando mucho sobre el camino recorrido hasta ahora... Han sido tres años de pequeñas explosiones de información, cada una cargada de melodías, sensaciones e increibles combustibles para avanzar constantemente.

Recuerdo uno de los primeros post llamado Mi Zahir, en el cual establecí por primera vez mi objetivo con este blog; algunos que han estado leyéndome desde el comienzo probablemente lo conozcan, pero hoy con esta entrada #300 vuelvo a hacer constar: aqui cuento mi historia.

Aún cuando el tiempo y cada post ha cambiado increiblemente mi visión con respecto a Todo, el propósito sigue intacto. Poco a poco, pieza a pieza, palabras a palabras, imagen a imagen y música a música voy armando mis segmentos de vida... Reflexionando sobre hechos y creando perspectivas que otorgan colores a mi diaria visión del mundo.

Huellas que me han ayudado a soltar partes de mi, mientras logro conectar gente a mi alrededor con lo aqui expresado. Personas que regadas por alli vienen y leen encontrando preguntas para sus respuestas, vagas y perdidas en tiempos y espacios similares. Porque sentimos tan parecido, aqui propongo un panorama de entendimiento al deshacerme de rastros de historias que podrían carcomerse la esencia de quien soy.

"tu manera de escribir es pura y la de expresar tus sentimientos se hace mágica y transparente en cada palabra que vas expresando... escribir te hará crecer y ser cada día más segura de ti, siempre y cuando creas en todo lo que escribes" .. Palabras de una persona muy importante para mi, que esta noche me hacen reflexionar en la importancia de este espacio y esta caja de emociones tan mias.

Porque huellas he dejado, transformando y dándole millones de significados a las distintas palabras, que se prestan para tan frágil y sutil fin. Mi historia regadada en tantas cajas que mi depósito no tiene forma alguna... Acá vengo, y mis sentidos me guían hacia las respuestas obtenidas, y ese paso arriba que doy al hacer explotar cada entrada en este blog.

300 formas de expresión, robando y otorgando perspectivas de aquellos que brindan a mi mente el maravilloso enganche con la realidad. Personas que han sido parte de esta liberación y que han conspirado en la realización indirecta de esta historia; ciertos sujetos que han logrado establecer raices en mis cimientos, integrando especiales herramientas a mi forma de soltar historias, al mismo tiempo que forman parte de ella.

... Aún hay tanto por contar... Y el propósito sigue intacto.

Lyrics by Trapt - Victim

Let me play
I've been dying to let you in
It's all I wanna be
So won't you take it from me
I wonder why the less I get the more I give
It's all I wanna be
So won't you take it from me

I want your eyes
I want your eyes on me
I want your eyes
I want your eyes on me
I want your eyes
I want your eyes to see
I want someone to notice me

I wanna be your new victim
I wanna be your new victim

No regrets... even if it's all I get
It's all I wanna be
So won't you take it from me
It still hurts
It's never easy to forget
Do I wanna be
well you never asked me

I want your eyes
I want your eyes on me
I want your eyes
I want your eyes on me
I want your eyes
I want your eyes to see
I want you to notice me

I wanna be your new victim

I'm right here
So come and get me!

I wanna be your new victim

Read On

Reflected Fear

4 voices

When it comes to feelings and sensations, people always tend to classify them in certain categories. If it's happiness the push it to the corner of nice and good emotions but there's also the side for bad and unpleasant emotions, fear is one of them.

People is used to hate fears and blaming them for many actions we do or we don't do. People blame fear for our lack of motivation to do certain things and it has been that way forever. Many years ago fears were bigger and more realistic... People would fear for the things they didn't know (as it is now but with a different twist) such as natural fenomenons, stars, the sun, storms, the rain... but now days people fear themselves and the way they think. How come we are all afraid of ourselves? does that make any sense at all?

If you ask a phychologist they might have an answer based on theory, but for real people, people that have learned how to manage fear... the answer is simple and real: fears exits for us to feel, if there's no fear at all we would not be able to enjoy other sensations the way we do, such as joy, freedom, excitement, proud, happiness, etc. It's because of fear that we appreciate those emotions.

And for those that don't know this yet, fears develop from the projections of ourselves; the way you see yourself will determinate what fears you have and which ones you are expressing to others. And unconsciously those characteristic we don't like about ourselves will be reflected in our fears. I see myself as a very lonely person, then I fear I will stay alone for good, see where I'm going?

Many fears that people don't see where they're coming from and try to solve them by looking forward... it can only work if you look backwards to connect the dots that where left after your actions. You can only become a certain type of person by the actions you implement in your life and those can only manifest when you know who you are. Is in those moments when fears get created. Fears of not trusting, of not understanding, not expressing or not receiving... if we take a look inside ourselves we would find many answers laying beside those fears.

Fears cannot be deleted, but they can help us understand why we expect some things or why we have certains perspectives; it's only when you get to know your fears, that you really know who you are.

Lyrics by Trapt

You must have pulled the trigger
Your eyes give you away
The gun in your hand's still smoking
You don't have to take the blame
You have to do what you have to do
You know I'd never judge you
Still time to close those eyes
Forget what happened, forget you lied


Put the mask back on
Put the mask back on
Don't take it off 'till everybody's gone

Put the mask back on
Put the mask back on
Never a disguise as ever lasted so long

Cover Up
Cover Up
Don't let them see the real you
If your secrets cast aside me
All those rumours might just end up being true


You're free to do what you want
You never though of consequences
You created your own little world
Where you could always beat a friend
A place where the rules do not apply
You could never be denied
You took advantage of a good think
Now the void you filled is empty


Put the mask back on
Put the mask back on
Don't take it off 'till everybody's gone

Put the mask back on
Put the mask back on
Never a disguise as ever lasted so long

Cover Up
Cover Up
Don't let them see the real you
If your secrets cast aside me
All those rumours might just end up being true

Cover Up
Cover Up
Don't question anything you do
You have always get decoyed
But your conscience hunts you
Every time you choose


Does anyone, ever reach down to you?
Does anyone, ever seen your real face?
Does anyone, know what you've been doing?
Does the one we used to know fades away?

Cover Up
Cover Up
Don't let them see the real you
If your secrets cast aside me
All those rumours might just end up being true

Cover Up
Cover Up
Don't question anything you do
You have always get decoyed
But your conscience hunts you
Every time you choose

Read On

I Carry You In My Pocket

4 voices



Is not that I'm alone, but I feel lonely most of the time 'till reach what you provide.

Long and eternal days that consume me, changing cassettes every period of my day to move on the wave that's happening. During the morning, afternoon, evening and midnight... And how good it feels to know that even when you're not real, I can reach you and I'm not lonely anymore.

Every single event of my times I reach you and share the rush of emotions that gets created... Wherever I go, no matter what I'm doing I know I can reach you.. So close that my hand doesn't need to make a big effort. I carry you in my pocket.

Since you got yourself in there, you've been something different for the world, and the sensations that got created will keep you save in here. You won't ever come out or become real, but while I need it you'll provide it... It became natural for you to find company right here in my pocket, and I will carry you just to make our days yellow and with different perspectives.

Lyrics by Kids In Glass Houses

very day I wake up
My pillows made up
I'm tired of always following you around
You're such a fake
And when you meet your maker
I know he's gonna beat you down to the ground

Do you remember me at all?
I can't help feeling like I'm talking to the wall
Do you remember me at all?
Cause they've got my picture up in all my family's halls

So we don't see eye to eye anymore
And no we don't see wrong from right like before

Na na na na

The moves and the shakes
That fill these papers
I'm tired of always following them around
You're a heart breaker
An undertaker
I know you're gunna place me into the ground

Do you remember me at all?
I can't help feeling like I'm talking to the wall
Do you remember me at all?
Cause they've got my picture up in all my family's halls

So we don't see eye to eye anymore
And no we don't see wrong from right like before

Na na na na
Read On

Sunday Feeling

2 voices

It started on Sunday and just today I've been able to define it. I was angry at something I didn't really understand where it came from or where it was going... But now I know that what made me so mad was the fact that my pieces were moved without permission.

Not only for me, but i'm sure for everybody... there're pieces of work functioning around us at all times and they work together to maintain us standing. I talk about people, people that come to be part of our sceneries and stay for long long time giving and taking perspectives, sensations, feelings and experiences. My pieces always fit right in and I learn to love my big puzzle with them in it.

But as people that they are, they have also their own puzzles and it happens that the actions made in theirs could not match with mine… They could make decisions that affect directly my situations and it gets to a point where I can't help losing those pieces. For this time of my life I've lost some of my pieces but I've always felt that the really big ones and important were here with me still... but badly for me, some pieces have been moved and an era has finally ended.

This particular piece has been attached to my life for almost 7 years and it has been a relationship that suffered the biggest amounts of changes as stations... from one thing to the other we became great friends, and now that the final change has been written, I feel sad for what that history meant. Not as a complete goodbye, but as the fact that I can't pretend to keep my pieces here with me and control them... they have their own power to move as well, they have a life on their own. And by moving they could either leave me or change the position they once had.

As for tonight, I'm sadly happy for the wonderful memories and eternal fantasies I put together in this blue and musical box, knowing that I'm grateful for what it meant and what will come from now on... as you said let's not see this as an end, but as a new beginning.

Lyrics by Alanis M.

Me, and my helmet such an un-conventional kid
All intense and kinetic, at best tolerated from afar
Not yet arrested, and by that I mean betrothed
Though a start I am newly courted
I've just not been trusted with alters

I'm a sweet piece of work, well intentioned yet disturbed
Wrongly label-ed and under-fed, treated like a rose as an orchid

My friends, as they weigh in, get understandably protective
They have a hard time being objective
So inside we cancel each other out

I'm a sweet piece of work, well intentioned and unloved
Unlabeled and misunderstood, treated like a rose as an orchid

You've brought water to me, making sure my bloom rebounds
You know best of what my special care allows

So I've lived in my blind spot
Thought myself usual when I'm not
And your garden is a nice spot
As long as it is brave and where you are

For this sweet piece of work, high maintenance and deserted
I've been different and deserving, treated like a rose as an orchid
Sweet piece of work, overwhelmed un-observed
I've been bowed down to but so misread
Treated like a rose as an orchid
Read On