Basics Not sure if it's nature that makes us like this or if it has something to do with genes but there's a code that's written one that makes us weak on specific spots some kind of label with instructions we all carry, on the back of our heads. From objects to sensations Whispers and sounds We must have them, collect them Own them and live through them We all must have at least one of these. Pages from a book of stories, maybe or counted nights in one roll of hours put together going back to the basic need simple desire of one special thing we all want, no matter what comes with it even if it's pain, we feel it with joy.
Self Talk Sessions Where do you think you're going? What are you planning on doing? What's the purpose of building something night by night? If there's nothing else behind this wall... What do you think I'm trying to pretend? Why do you believe in this hidding of realness? Like if for a moment, you'd think we are made of plastic No more than hard and rough components... What a fantasy of walking forward... How easy can I make this wall disappear in front of my eyes... But how strong it feels when it shows up.
Habbit Of wanting to label and contain Define and translate Store and save Preserve and admire Collecting old uses of forgotten stories Unloved phrases thrown away Connections and meaningful spots Too used to keep clear glasses mixing liquids with solids and hoping like a teenager for a perfect match Granting whispers by fading words words that scape from my head just before I catch and hide Habbit of keeping, holding understanding, excusing myself for being this way.
2 lines-Thought: Granted Nothing new, and something I should have known better: If you take me for granted, it's just because I want to
Divine Collision There's a division in my senses and structures Two different corners for ideas to develop Two versions of my will power One that ask the other one for permission... ... to do these things... ... to think this way... ... to act like this. One I face and the other one I struggle with One that makes me lie constantly and the other one that provides life so often. While I support this side, there she is exploring secrets in my head... Seeking for what I try hard not to show, and pushing me to fun and joyful extremes. She does not care for the future and there's just a few ideas she'd refuse. ... I just wonder what would happen if they merge, ... combined into one silver state to bring unknown thoughts to this surface, ... maybe just to risk a bit more. In the photo: Wal & Mischa P. Lyrics by U2 Magnificent
Oh, oh, magnificent I was born, I was born To be with you in this space and time After that and ever after I haven't had a clue only to break rhyme This foolishness can leave a heart black and blue, oh, oh Only love, only love can leave such a mark But only love, only love can heal such a scar I was born, I was born to sing for you I didn't have a choice but to lift you up And sing whatever song you wanted me to I give you back my voice from the womb My first cry, it was a joyful noise, oh, oh Only love, only love can leave such a mark But only love, only love can heal such a scar Justified, till we die you and I will magnify, oh, oh Magnificent, magnificent, oh, oh Only love, only love can leave such a mark But only love, only love unites our hearts Justified, till we die you and I will magnify, oh, oh Magnificent, magnificent, magnificent The Station I look from side to side, people walking too fast to notice any sound. Layers of noise bring my senses into a state of alarm, some soft chaos that calls my name... I guess there's no option but to fall into it. Was this the right station? I remember memorizing the path, putting marks on each place and drawing arrows to lead the way. I guess this is the following stop, gotta make sure because once I step out, the train won't come back to the station... my only option would be going forward, with unplanned changes. Is this the right station? This ground should feel familiar soon enough.
2 lines-Thought: Touched I would have loved this awkward platonic interaction... and get touched by some magical flirting.
Expired Playground I created this place, knowing exactly what I was doing... Some special areas for them to enjoy and fool around, fun and happy sounds to bring them closer together. They came.. as I thought they would, but not knowing it was going to become this kind of place. One with unknown experiences, atittudes, answers and crushed sensations. One place that brought all of them to make me face my own fears and hide them just to keep them here, without moving too far away... Feeding this urge of company with the best of souls I could ever find; I always picked the best of them, no doubt about it. They came and had fun, they developed many different sides of themselves while playing in this area of mine, maybe enjoying my presence, maybe just letting things flow without asking for too many explanations... Just a fun playground to be at. My very own feared playground. I've been afraid of letting them go, for so long... because having them here has been good to me, and all the efforts I've made to make it happen have been joyful, in a very shitty way, I like doing what I do to keep them close to my special place, just because of the constant fear of being alone if I don't do the right thing for each one of them. The right phrase The right movement The right answer The right question The right smile All in a pathetic system that I learned too quickly... But got also too used to last.. I stand here tonight, in front of their laughs, wonders, doubts, different and huge opinions of what I've decided about this place... I stand here not caring about what they will think about this statement, beacause I got tired of being tired, tired of seek for them, and making the efforts most of the time. If the idea is to let them go, then please just do... ...I will sure enjoy all this alone green for myself. This playground has expired. In the photo: Ruth Lyrics by Depeche Mode (This lyrics have one different interpretation from the other lyrics I usually share with each post)
wrong wrong wrong wrong I was born with the wrong sign In the wrong house With the wrong ascendancy I took the wrong road That led to the wrong tendencies I was in the wrong place at the wrong time For the wrong reason and the wrong rhyme On the wrong day of the wrong week I used the wrong method with the wrong technique Wrong Wrong There's something wrong with me chemically Something wrong with me inherently The wrong mix in the wrong genes I reached the wrong ends by the wrong means It was the wrong plan In the wrong hands The wrong theory for the wrong man The wrong eyes on the wrong prize The wrong questions with the wrong replies Wrong Wrong I was marching to the wrong drum With the wrong scum Pissing out the wrong energy Using all the wrong lines And the wrong signs With the wrong intensity I was on the wrong page of the wrong book With the wrong rendition of the wrong look With the wrong moon, every wrong night With the wrong tune playing till it sounded right yeah Wrong Wrong (Too long) Wrong (Too long) I was born with the wrong sign In the wrong house With the wrong ascendancy I took the wrong road That led to the wrong tendencies I was in the wrong place at the wrong time For the wrong reason and the wrong rhyme On the wrong day of the wrong week I used the wrong method with the wrong technique Wrong
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