Growing old

One day I guess I realized that I already grew old. That the years that I had expected to be the hard ones passed without the solution that I implicitly placed in them. They were hard enough. But in the end I realized, they bore no fruit. So I sit now realizing... It was all a waste. And I wonder, whom do I really live for? After all these years, a waste. I take pride in the few people who do appreciate my existence - the very few indeed. But those - I do care for. But I really don't want to go on. Not indefinitely. Maybe for a few years yet. But not indefinitely. I simply cannot bear it. And there is, in all honestly, no point at all. I am a burden for society, and not only society. It tires me and it bores me.

All I see is beauty outside. I wish I could at least properly express it. Then I would be one of those modern poets. Conveying the elaborate night to everyone who doesn't see it. Or even those who do, but only reflect on it by proxy. Even that would be worth it! But I am not. And I don't. And I'm tired. And I'm done. Or am I? I never know. Today, I will not end my life. Because I am too lazy and too caught up in the beauty of it all and the music with such depth. But one day, I will run out of excuses. And I don't think I will say goodbye.

Reflection Replaced

I find my person to be defined by my reflection in others. What they think of me, what they do to and with me. These are the most important things in me - they are what spill over into the world. Anything that is completely internalized can change nothing.

I am no stranger to identity crises, but one thing I have always been able to lean on was my reflection in the actions and words of others. Once suddenly denied these reflections, or once they become distorted, I am uprooted. I no longer know myself. Those precious things that were granted to me only by reciprocating, they are no longer. It is not a wise thing to root so closely into these few actions. But given enough temptation... There was no refusing.

Some trinkets are too shiny to pass up. Some moments are too grand, too confusing, too involving to not completely dissolve into. And once in a while, even beauty outshines every other, regular concern. But once you make either of these things yours, you set yourself up for defeat. Trinkets are but trinkets, moments are fleeting and one way or the other, beauty will be lost.

My beauty was but the reflection in the eyes of a true love. Without that, my laughter rings hollow, my eyes are clouded and my self... As fragile as love can be. Now, someone else is in the reflection. Mine is gone and I am stuck in the mirror, looking out as someone has replaced me, superceded me.

Hatred Comes Hard

When forced to completely submit to the will and whim of someone else, I find I lose myself in a shroud of unknown. I no longer recognize my own feelings, and I am unable to easily feel. It is an absurd situation. The remedy? Crank up the volume. I must recognize the feeling that I want to express. I must recognize it and then, through listening to the music, channel it. And thus, music becomes a bridge. But it is absurd. To only be able to connect with myself through an amplifier of sound. To become so complex that I can no longer understand myself but for drowning out the complexity in a shriek of anger that is not even my own.

I have become the soundtrack of the talented musicians that I so envy. Yes! Envy! I feel it because the song allows it. It is one feeling of those that are not subject to the merciless destructive interference of my choice poison. But every time it ends, I become someone else once more.

Rewind. Rewind. Rewind again and bask in -- is it anger now? And of course...

"I'm filled with violent woe. I'm filled with complex woe -- still breathing"

Cacaphony of Pain

The worst thing one can possibly experience is to lose something that you never truly realized you had. To feel that no matter how much your emotions burn true, they cannot overcome that obstacle which has been set in their way. To try in vain to preserve even a fragment of something so precious, so that perhaps it may grow again if properly nurtured this time... And then, sooner or later, to be completely fatigued. To be unable to change anything. To have spent oneself in the pursuit. To be denied. Lost. Gone.

Stating the Obvious

I've noticed a recent change of balance between the opinions of human rights organization and Western politicians. Before you'd see the organizations fighting for a more lenient approach towards different cultures and systems of government. Bring up China, however, and the roles will reverse. Suddenly democracy is the holy grail - a naive opinion if there ever was one - and tolerance is less of a problem for the human rights organization and the politicians, however unlikely, have a realistic approach towards "different" systems. Grotesque.

a composition in life
a tired meal in the evening
just waking, stretching

yawning at the city lights
obsessive thought and motion
can't see them clear yet
it's not that time yet

you go brighter with them
putting on your makeup
putting on your heels
putting on your breasts
putting on your soul

dim now clicking shoes
pavement never tells its story
bloodied and romantic
cigarettes used to draw you, femme
nah it's just for cash
to pull that rubber band closer
to have something to embrace
to buy back dreams in dreams
I sold my body to buy my soul

We're watching the stars of the day going down, Horizon

As the cheerless towns pass my window
I can see a washed out moon through the fog
And then a voice inside my head breaks the analogue
And says

Follow me down to the valley below
You know;
Moonlight is bleeding from out of your soul

I survived against the will of my twisted folk
But in the deafness of my world the silence broke
And said

Follow me down to the valley below
You know;
Moonlight is bleeding from out of your soul

My David don't you worry
This cold world is not for you
So rest your head upon me
I have strength to carry you

Ghosts of the twenties rising
Golden summers just holding you

Follow me down to the valley below
You know
Moonlight is bleeding from out of your soul

Follow me down to the valley below
You know
Moonlight is bleeding from out of your soul
Come to us Lazarus
It's time for you to go

Porcupine Tree - Lazarus