Language is essential for communication, and for people there's more than one way to use that language to express ideas, share information, just that... communicate.

Within that language there are ways of being, personalities and issues, all mixed up in a way that transform language for each individual, as myself. The external side of me claims freedom and a way of communicating with few limits, I say a lot and think as I say. But I also talk at convenience, when I assume something needs to be said or not, then I do. Not the most honest way of communicating, but one that defines me.

Beneath all that, rests and reacts a special condition that in a way that I can't control, manages what I transmit to people whether it is communicating or just being... A condition that I still don't know or understand, a condition that seems to bring exactly what I want to avoid and a condition that, as some people tell me, brings me closer to what holds me back from changing.

I still bend my perspective for other people, say what I think they wanna hear, hide those thoughts of mine that might damage something that I believe is stable... A condition and its peculiarities that I'm ignoring most of the time, and something that I'm still not working on.

There is an image of me I know is real, an image that's aware of what I have to offer and how comfortable I am with most of the decisions I make... That image that I wish was the permanent and only I'd show other people.

If I could just trade everything for the facts, just to know what it is... then maybe and just maybe I would jump from this happy place of regular, constant and random infatuations, to a happy place of real companionship.

P.S. to myself: This exercise of reviewing writings might be working.

In the photo: Chan Marshall
Lyrics by Trapt

Something missing
Left behind
Search in circles
Every time I try
I've been here before
I've seen you before

I can't escape winding down these halls
Hard to find a place where there are no walls
And no lines begging me to cross
Only straight ahead better move along

Like Clockwork
I commit the crime
I pretend to be
everything they like
I've been here before
I've seen you before


And I trade everything for this
And I trade everything for this
Why do I read the writing on the wall
Why do I read the writing on the wall
I won't lose my place in line

0 voices:

Post a Comment