Well, we have come this far.
We started as single-celled beings too small to even care or measure up to the life we have built for ourselves now.
We could have stayed like that, and none of this would exist, but we didn't you see. Competition made a huge differnce. And here we stand now, with all our possessions, fantasies and problems.
Some of us say it was all meant to be this way. That everything has been scripted out, pre-determined so that every single move, every tiny change is preset, and has already been asigned a consequence.
Maybe those people like to think that because they are afraid of the future.
They desperately want to find a reason for a few random explosions and reactions that ended up triggering the colossal empire of matter that belongs to us.
The matter becomes so obsessive, that in fact those people completely eliminate the idea of future, and replace it with the concept of destiny.
Yes, it is obvious that you don't feel so insecure when you've thrusted everything that awaits into your God Almighty's hands.
It's much easier isn't it?
You can blame everything you want on the untouchable idea of God.
You can simply cast away the idea of taking chances, because your destiny is oh so conveniently waiting for you at the end of the line.
It's just so much easier isn't it? You fucking hypocrit.
The paths that have made us the fascinating (albeit monstrous) creatures that we are were not predefined. We weren't given a guidebook. Humans went with what they thought best, and have somehow survived.
Tribe became village, village became town, town became city, city became metropolis. And it's only when you look back at it that you realise that nothing has changed inside the world we live in.
It's us that have changed.
We've changed. We've stained our home with the marks of our presence, but that doesn't change the world. That's just changed what we've made of it.
We live, we die, and the wheels on the bus go round and round.
That is the unquestionable, unoverthrowable, truth about the mass of human life.
Now let's zoom in.
An individual, one solemn soul can not have the same view of everything that is chained to the ever-advancing progression of his existence. He is only given a small glance, and that glance gives you chances, choices, opportunities. The way you handle all of that makes you who you are, not your "destiny".
Me, you, other people...even though we're friends, brothers, sisters, lovers, we are all alone. Separate. Unretrofied. We have all fallen into some category: the lucky ones or the not so lucky ones (like I talked about last time).
We're all witnesses of some kind of advancement enclosed inside the great abyss of time.
The elements of change hit us one after the other.
As we get older, we get to know more and more. We're hit by high points, and unbearably low ones. We all progress in time, adding on new elements every day, but we all forcibly keep in touch with the euphoria and ecstasy of childhood.
We react differently as the rules of life slowly uncover. Some fall into drugs, prostitution...others learn, and raise themselves higher.
With that revelation of the truth comes an inexorable disappointment and a desperate need to collapse back into a better past. Commonly known as nostalgia.
As you age, days seemingly get shorter and more meaningless. As you start to see days that are identical to others, whereas when you were very young, every day was a new adventure.
I am shaken by time passing, spitting more and more truth at me. I'm also enjoying the little things in life more now, since the big things can only promise a bunch of shit.
I can not see people change, because I am changing. I'm moving way too fast in the shaky and indecisive period that is adolescence.
But all in all, we are just thousands of thriving minor characters that probably won't affect the grinding path of time. Time, our one true master.
We are all walking down our own private, invisible paths that we've drawn ourselves up to now, and that we will draw until the end, in surfeit or need.
That's life.
That's our time under the spotlight.
That's our existence.
That's it, and there's nothing else.
There is no such thing as destiny.
Thursday, 5 August 2010
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
Unretrofied.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and I realise how lucky I really am. I'm healthy, alive, and I am still capable of wearing a smile upon my face.
Some people can't look themselves in the mirror because they do not want to sense or even catch a glance of the unquestionable truth: that some people are not lucky, that some people can't evolve and move on, because they are busy trying not to die, that some people couldn't even look into a mirror even if they wanted to.
We are the wealthy ones. The chosen ones.
There has to be a loser, and a winner. It shouldn't be that way, but none of us could ever come close to changing that.
We know we are lucky. We see it on the streets. Inside our homes. On TV.
We sense it when we chew on a juicy steak, or drink a sweet milkshake.
Most people aren't strong enough to even consider a world without these things, so they get on with their lives by working in an office doing a job they don't like, ready to buy their fat, fucked up kids another donut with all the crucial money they own.
Others, such as me, like to get a glimpse of the truth, what is below. We like to touch the filth of reality with our fingertips, but we also can't even bear with the idea of jumping in and exploring the rabbit hole.
And then there's that third group. Those healthy Europeans, Americans, Canadians or Japanese that help a poor country or join a help organisation in the feeble attempt to change something. They make a miniscule difference, and they know that even they can't change the world.
They do it because it releaves a tiny portion of the massive burden of guilt all the lucky ones possess, whether they acknowledge the guilt or not.
The leaders tell you that life is a competition and that you shouldn't feel for the losers.
The inert follow the leaders.
And the free write it down, as if the written word could somehow bring everyone to reason.
I do that.
If there is a God, He created joy and bliss for a lot of us, but He forgot a big part of the world.
His heart maybe just isn't big enough for everyone.
Well...short article, but meaningful.
It's short because I don't want to sense the truth any longer.
The path down the rabbit hole is just too unbearable.
Some people can't look themselves in the mirror because they do not want to sense or even catch a glance of the unquestionable truth: that some people are not lucky, that some people can't evolve and move on, because they are busy trying not to die, that some people couldn't even look into a mirror even if they wanted to.
We are the wealthy ones. The chosen ones.
There has to be a loser, and a winner. It shouldn't be that way, but none of us could ever come close to changing that.
We know we are lucky. We see it on the streets. Inside our homes. On TV.
We sense it when we chew on a juicy steak, or drink a sweet milkshake.
Most people aren't strong enough to even consider a world without these things, so they get on with their lives by working in an office doing a job they don't like, ready to buy their fat, fucked up kids another donut with all the crucial money they own.
Others, such as me, like to get a glimpse of the truth, what is below. We like to touch the filth of reality with our fingertips, but we also can't even bear with the idea of jumping in and exploring the rabbit hole.
And then there's that third group. Those healthy Europeans, Americans, Canadians or Japanese that help a poor country or join a help organisation in the feeble attempt to change something. They make a miniscule difference, and they know that even they can't change the world.
They do it because it releaves a tiny portion of the massive burden of guilt all the lucky ones possess, whether they acknowledge the guilt or not.
The leaders tell you that life is a competition and that you shouldn't feel for the losers.
The inert follow the leaders.
And the free write it down, as if the written word could somehow bring everyone to reason.
I do that.
If there is a God, He created joy and bliss for a lot of us, but He forgot a big part of the world.
His heart maybe just isn't big enough for everyone.
Well...short article, but meaningful.
It's short because I don't want to sense the truth any longer.
The path down the rabbit hole is just too unbearable.
Thursday, 29 July 2010
Hop on your rainbow, and leap into oblivion.
There's an infamous question that is: Would you rather be blind or deaf?
When someone asked me it a while back, I didn't know. Well now I do, and if that person is reading these very words, they will have their answer.
I'd rather be blind. By far. Simply because music is the biggest part of my life.
Music is everything to me.
But wait hang on, I'm not talking about the music you hear on the radio or during music theory class.
When I listen to classical music like Mozart, Bach or Beethoven, and I see tons of music fanatics around me drooling at its so called "beauty", I feel perplexed.
OK fine, that kind of music is majestic. Beautiful in many ways.
And being a musician myself I can tell you that those boys knew a shitload about how to change key or finish with a perfect cadence.
But this is the catch: there's no human implication in it. Even in opera, while that fat lady in a tight dress sings, I can't help but feel uneasy and insensitive to the gibberish she is crooning.
Mozart, Bach and Beethoven knew every corner and every crack in the system and the rules of music. They just didn't express emotion explicitly enough.
I know many classical music fanatics will disagree with me, and I'm sure that a different mind would look at it a different way. But this is my blog. It's my mind. It's the view I'm getting.
The music that means a lot to me is not what Bach spouted out to finish another predictable symphony. The music I'm talking about is music that touches you. Gives you the chills. Frightens you because you can remember exactly where you were and how you felt the first moment when you heard that heart-moving riff or chorus.
It reminds you of that time, and ultimately opens you the gates of a different world with different rules. Some world, (like I've talked about before in A Thousand Vacancies), where everything is stripped off except for your soul. And your emotions inflate and invade the sky, forcing you to acknowledge them.
And then you feel some kind of connection with what the artist, singer or band, is expressing. That gives me the chills.
I, for one, have lead a life that has been guided by music. Now my taste is so precise, so deep, that I can listen to a song over and over and not get bored, because that song plays a story in my head.
Many songs have given me the chills, because of their power, softness, darkness or beauty. One song that I just feel I have to mention is Alexisonfire's "Pulmonary Archery". It is a song that appears ugly to most, because most of the vocals are screamed.
However, the extraordinary guitar and bass introduction is just mesmerizing. I still don't understand the full meaning of the lyrics, but just that introduction reminds me of a time of my life, that's probably too personal, and too weird to talk about, because it haunts me still to this day.
If I was deaf, I wouldn't be able to hear the beautiful caress of the violin, the beady touch of the piano, or the furry vibration of the bass guitar. I couldn't hear the birds sing melodies no one listens to, or the presidents lead nations with their microphones, or the children innocently laughing at other people's misfortune.
I wouldn't be able to hear the entire world talking at the same time, distorting words, drowning compliments, amplifying insults. I wouldn't be able to hear every last person on this earth trying to raise their voice higher, just for the sake of power.
Now that I think of it, being deaf is as bad as being blind. But sometimes I just have to feel that being isolated from a world like this isn't such of a disadvantage. Being in your own world, far from the disaster the collective world has become.
We all live in our own private worlds, but we all desperately try to stain other people's worlds with out territory.
Just like I'm doing right now. With you.
Before I go, I'll leave you with the lyrics to one of the greatest modern rock songs ever made.
This is the crack in the wall.
This is the break in the fall.
This is meaning.
Listen to this next time you're thinking of grooving to Kesha. And maybe, just maybe, you'll change.
Pulmonary Archery
by Alexisonfire
It’s never too late to be early
Or to try and maintain some scrap of
Integrity and certainty I guess.
My fingers are blistered and bleeding
There’s no longer discomfort you brought me.
But I wont apologize, and 1977
Was a long time ago. I don’t care.
I don't care how things were
And I won't apologize.
I won't apologize.
Fuck you.
The Alamo has been penetrated
And there is little hope for the white man
So hop on your rainbow, ride it
My fingers are blistered and bleeding
There’s no longer discomfort you brought me.
So hop on your rainbow, and leap into oblivion.
For all I care you can be early or late, whatever.
When someone asked me it a while back, I didn't know. Well now I do, and if that person is reading these very words, they will have their answer.
I'd rather be blind. By far. Simply because music is the biggest part of my life.
Music is everything to me.
But wait hang on, I'm not talking about the music you hear on the radio or during music theory class.
When I listen to classical music like Mozart, Bach or Beethoven, and I see tons of music fanatics around me drooling at its so called "beauty", I feel perplexed.
OK fine, that kind of music is majestic. Beautiful in many ways.
And being a musician myself I can tell you that those boys knew a shitload about how to change key or finish with a perfect cadence.
But this is the catch: there's no human implication in it. Even in opera, while that fat lady in a tight dress sings, I can't help but feel uneasy and insensitive to the gibberish she is crooning.
Mozart, Bach and Beethoven knew every corner and every crack in the system and the rules of music. They just didn't express emotion explicitly enough.
I know many classical music fanatics will disagree with me, and I'm sure that a different mind would look at it a different way. But this is my blog. It's my mind. It's the view I'm getting.
The music that means a lot to me is not what Bach spouted out to finish another predictable symphony. The music I'm talking about is music that touches you. Gives you the chills. Frightens you because you can remember exactly where you were and how you felt the first moment when you heard that heart-moving riff or chorus.
It reminds you of that time, and ultimately opens you the gates of a different world with different rules. Some world, (like I've talked about before in A Thousand Vacancies), where everything is stripped off except for your soul. And your emotions inflate and invade the sky, forcing you to acknowledge them.
And then you feel some kind of connection with what the artist, singer or band, is expressing. That gives me the chills.
I, for one, have lead a life that has been guided by music. Now my taste is so precise, so deep, that I can listen to a song over and over and not get bored, because that song plays a story in my head.
Many songs have given me the chills, because of their power, softness, darkness or beauty. One song that I just feel I have to mention is Alexisonfire's "Pulmonary Archery". It is a song that appears ugly to most, because most of the vocals are screamed.
However, the extraordinary guitar and bass introduction is just mesmerizing. I still don't understand the full meaning of the lyrics, but just that introduction reminds me of a time of my life, that's probably too personal, and too weird to talk about, because it haunts me still to this day.
If I was deaf, I wouldn't be able to hear the beautiful caress of the violin, the beady touch of the piano, or the furry vibration of the bass guitar. I couldn't hear the birds sing melodies no one listens to, or the presidents lead nations with their microphones, or the children innocently laughing at other people's misfortune.
I wouldn't be able to hear the entire world talking at the same time, distorting words, drowning compliments, amplifying insults. I wouldn't be able to hear every last person on this earth trying to raise their voice higher, just for the sake of power.
Now that I think of it, being deaf is as bad as being blind. But sometimes I just have to feel that being isolated from a world like this isn't such of a disadvantage. Being in your own world, far from the disaster the collective world has become.
We all live in our own private worlds, but we all desperately try to stain other people's worlds with out territory.
Just like I'm doing right now. With you.
Before I go, I'll leave you with the lyrics to one of the greatest modern rock songs ever made.
This is the crack in the wall.
This is the break in the fall.
This is meaning.
Listen to this next time you're thinking of grooving to Kesha. And maybe, just maybe, you'll change.
Pulmonary Archery
by Alexisonfire
It’s never too late to be early
Or to try and maintain some scrap of
Integrity and certainty I guess.
My fingers are blistered and bleeding
There’s no longer discomfort you brought me.
But I wont apologize, and 1977
Was a long time ago. I don’t care.
I don't care how things were
And I won't apologize.
I won't apologize.
Fuck you.
The Alamo has been penetrated
And there is little hope for the white man
So hop on your rainbow, ride it
My fingers are blistered and bleeding
There’s no longer discomfort you brought me.
So hop on your rainbow, and leap into oblivion.
For all I care you can be early or late, whatever.
Monday, 26 July 2010
Pick some sense out of this.
Fuck you.
It's a feeling, an emotion. Not something you can trigger by looking at a picture or reading some text or crap. It's self-induced. Uncontrolable.
Time is maddening. When I consider every single second ticking off at every single fucking moment of this universe, I just think how frantic they could be. Or how peaceful, but why would anyone want something like that?
Peacefulness brings me a feeling of missing out. I'm probably missing out on something awesome in this life. Well, no. I'm missing out on a lot more shit than on awesomeness. But it doesn't take me away from this self-induced lunacy.
Sanity is insanity.
Happines is depression.
Vices are virtues.
Success is luck.
Peace is war.
Drugs are medicine.
What the fuck was all that about? I don't know, but it makes sense. Every element that makes everything up is always ever attracted to its opposite. Even though it's not directly visible, everything is intimately linked to what it completely contradicts. You can consider politics, religion, different cultures, traditions or even just music, and you will be left with the same fact.
The fact is like Pi. So difficult to discern and decipher, but so lethally exact. I mean, take Stalin and Hitler as an example. They wanted two completely different things, but achieved them using the same means.
Maybe the world was born like this. Maybe we just made it that way. Maybe you're not following me anymore.
Okay, I'll put into words you can all understand.
The world of today has a reputation of a free world among the higher tier of the population. It is true in many many ways, but the contradiction of this fact is dangerously present.
For example, in no way can you survive today without a safe job and a fucking business diploma to become a faithful employee (a boring fuckwad) working for a company that does something everyone hates. You can't live your passion. I don't care what people say. You just can't.
Living your passion is all what living is about. If you can't do that, you don't live, you just exist.
If you really want to live your passion nowadays, it's suicide.
And there it is again. That fact.
Suicide is considered imoral, insane, an action that is drained of all reason. You see, the opposite is almost as relevant, if not more. Suicide, in this world, is reasonable. Human. It's escaping the insanity (disguised as wisdom) that floods the streets and skies of the nest we live and breed in.
And we breed our children with that same state of mind.
Very soon peace and war will have completely swapped sides.
They will have swapped sides, and we will be completely oblivious to it. Just as oblivious as we are to everything that is born inside our walls. We're oblivious to everything, ever since the very first evolved people of our kind created a huge magnet called society to keep their descendants under control.
With this disturbing thought in mind, I can tell you that knowing something like that is not known or felt by visiting a poor country or seeing the pyramids or Niagara falls.
...the train of thought has disappeared. I have no idea if it made sense. Whatever, I'm doing this blog for me...but if I post this on internet, you might all see.
...you see, there it is again.
Now you just ponder about that thought when you're sitting comfortably in your warm and cosy living room, while the rest of the world is busy surviving.
It's a feeling, an emotion. Not something you can trigger by looking at a picture or reading some text or crap. It's self-induced. Uncontrolable.
Time is maddening. When I consider every single second ticking off at every single fucking moment of this universe, I just think how frantic they could be. Or how peaceful, but why would anyone want something like that?
Peacefulness brings me a feeling of missing out. I'm probably missing out on something awesome in this life. Well, no. I'm missing out on a lot more shit than on awesomeness. But it doesn't take me away from this self-induced lunacy.
Sanity is insanity.
Happines is depression.
Vices are virtues.
Success is luck.
Peace is war.
Drugs are medicine.
What the fuck was all that about? I don't know, but it makes sense. Every element that makes everything up is always ever attracted to its opposite. Even though it's not directly visible, everything is intimately linked to what it completely contradicts. You can consider politics, religion, different cultures, traditions or even just music, and you will be left with the same fact.
The fact is like Pi. So difficult to discern and decipher, but so lethally exact. I mean, take Stalin and Hitler as an example. They wanted two completely different things, but achieved them using the same means.
Maybe the world was born like this. Maybe we just made it that way. Maybe you're not following me anymore.
Okay, I'll put into words you can all understand.
The world of today has a reputation of a free world among the higher tier of the population. It is true in many many ways, but the contradiction of this fact is dangerously present.
For example, in no way can you survive today without a safe job and a fucking business diploma to become a faithful employee (a boring fuckwad) working for a company that does something everyone hates. You can't live your passion. I don't care what people say. You just can't.
Living your passion is all what living is about. If you can't do that, you don't live, you just exist.
If you really want to live your passion nowadays, it's suicide.
And there it is again. That fact.
Suicide is considered imoral, insane, an action that is drained of all reason. You see, the opposite is almost as relevant, if not more. Suicide, in this world, is reasonable. Human. It's escaping the insanity (disguised as wisdom) that floods the streets and skies of the nest we live and breed in.
And we breed our children with that same state of mind.
Very soon peace and war will have completely swapped sides.
They will have swapped sides, and we will be completely oblivious to it. Just as oblivious as we are to everything that is born inside our walls. We're oblivious to everything, ever since the very first evolved people of our kind created a huge magnet called society to keep their descendants under control.
With this disturbing thought in mind, I can tell you that knowing something like that is not known or felt by visiting a poor country or seeing the pyramids or Niagara falls.
...the train of thought has disappeared. I have no idea if it made sense. Whatever, I'm doing this blog for me...but if I post this on internet, you might all see.
...you see, there it is again.
Now you just ponder about that thought when you're sitting comfortably in your warm and cosy living room, while the rest of the world is busy surviving.
Sunday, 11 July 2010
The cure for insomnia.
Woaaaah it's late. I should be sleeping, seeing as I have to wake up in 3 hours.
Well, I've proven to myself before that this blog can be the cure for my insomnia, so here goes:
Here's just a few thoughts that came to me. I can't be fucked to put them into articles or poems or whatever. I just hope they make sense outside my head. Cuz they sure as hell made sense when I thought of them while gazing at the world and all the parasites it contains.
- The adolescent dilemma is that the teenager's social entourage will push him one way, whilst his parents and family will push him the other. He is then forced to feel rejected by at least one of them.
- The original, natural world is in essence: unfair. So why do we humans try to make ours as fair as possible whilst not tolerating anything unnatural?
- I fear to lose close people so much now as a teenager, that when I see adults dealing with their acquaintences not very often, saying absent-mindedly that "people just get on with their lives", I really think the world is ugly.
- The trend of being deep and meaningful is getting popular now. The uncontrolable, filthy, stupid masses are going to overshadow the people who are really deep soon...thank you society.
- People with power have the power to not care. They also have the power to care, but that's a higher ledge to reach for.
- Come on, let's be honest. We all have to stand naked at least once in our lives (I'm not saying you should imagine the Queen of England naked, please).
Just consider all of that. We should all just go intoxicate ourselves together. We'd all be stoned, but at least we wouldn't hate each other.
That just did it.
See you tomorrow for another frightful day.
Well, I've proven to myself before that this blog can be the cure for my insomnia, so here goes:
Here's just a few thoughts that came to me. I can't be fucked to put them into articles or poems or whatever. I just hope they make sense outside my head. Cuz they sure as hell made sense when I thought of them while gazing at the world and all the parasites it contains.
- The adolescent dilemma is that the teenager's social entourage will push him one way, whilst his parents and family will push him the other. He is then forced to feel rejected by at least one of them.
- The original, natural world is in essence: unfair. So why do we humans try to make ours as fair as possible whilst not tolerating anything unnatural?
- I fear to lose close people so much now as a teenager, that when I see adults dealing with their acquaintences not very often, saying absent-mindedly that "people just get on with their lives", I really think the world is ugly.
- The trend of being deep and meaningful is getting popular now. The uncontrolable, filthy, stupid masses are going to overshadow the people who are really deep soon...thank you society.
- People with power have the power to not care. They also have the power to care, but that's a higher ledge to reach for.
- Come on, let's be honest. We all have to stand naked at least once in our lives (I'm not saying you should imagine the Queen of England naked, please).
Just consider all of that. We should all just go intoxicate ourselves together. We'd all be stoned, but at least we wouldn't hate each other.
That just did it.
See you tomorrow for another frightful day.
Wednesday, 7 July 2010
Ice on the thorn.
I think I should just let go. It's summer. All the kids are playing. All the adults are dancing. The summer time is supposed to be the happiest period of the year, where we can crawl out of our dens and let the scarlet evening skies ravish us. The powerful sun dominates us and provides us with endless pleasure.
I don't find it that way. Summer is the most depressing time of the year. By far.
It isn't cosy. People are separated, enjoying their time by themselves with the sun, instead of roasting together upon an open fire.
At least during the year the routine will keep us tied together, and we can enjoy our time since we are anchored to the same boat. Now I am drifting too far towards the edge of the earth on a fragile raft.
I've been having trouble sleeping. The heat maybe, or maybe it's just that thought. Everyone's in a great mood around me, but I've never felt so alone.
There's nothing as comforting as a set of smooth words joined together, so let's have ourselves a little poem:
Sleep Debt
Days are all the same
All different, yet still lame
I’m the catch of the day
As I live my time away
The system’s perfectly aligned
With all exceptions resigned
And I am never tired
With being forever admired.
Days are getting longer
Nothing is making me stronger
I drift towards my soul’s boundaries
But the old me is still not deceased
The exceptions come in to play
With a hint of the system still in the way
But now am I so tired
That I want to retire?
Days never end
Solitude is my best friend
I’ve accumulated idleness
And filled my life with emptiness
The system’s safety is gone
I am the exception, not hanging on
I’m tired, my straits are very dire
And my conscience is on fire.
Maybe I must dig so deep to find what I really seek,
But first I must get some sleep, before my view becomes oblique.
I don't find it that way. Summer is the most depressing time of the year. By far.
It isn't cosy. People are separated, enjoying their time by themselves with the sun, instead of roasting together upon an open fire.
At least during the year the routine will keep us tied together, and we can enjoy our time since we are anchored to the same boat. Now I am drifting too far towards the edge of the earth on a fragile raft.
I've been having trouble sleeping. The heat maybe, or maybe it's just that thought. Everyone's in a great mood around me, but I've never felt so alone.
There's nothing as comforting as a set of smooth words joined together, so let's have ourselves a little poem:
Sleep Debt
Days are all the same
All different, yet still lame
I’m the catch of the day
As I live my time away
The system’s perfectly aligned
With all exceptions resigned
And I am never tired
With being forever admired.
Days are getting longer
Nothing is making me stronger
I drift towards my soul’s boundaries
But the old me is still not deceased
The exceptions come in to play
With a hint of the system still in the way
But now am I so tired
That I want to retire?
Days never end
Solitude is my best friend
I’ve accumulated idleness
And filled my life with emptiness
The system’s safety is gone
I am the exception, not hanging on
I’m tired, my straits are very dire
And my conscience is on fire.
Maybe I must dig so deep to find what I really seek,
But first I must get some sleep, before my view becomes oblique.
Sunday, 6 June 2010
A thousand vacancies.
What would happen if everything was stripped off of you. Your job, your studies, your friends, your family, your hobbies, your heart, your head...but not your soul.
Could you cope?
Would you be capable of facing the ravine you were born with, that you never used or even considered?
What the fuck would you do with it?
Since it's all that you have left, take a look...
Once you saw the greyness and shallowness of the soul you kept for so long in the dark, would you regret insulting your best friend, rejecting your father, or saying those horrible things to your mother?
Would you regret leaving the girl or guy you once could donate your entire life to?
Would you think back to the crossroads you once stalled upon, and regret taking the one that led you to the emptiness of the moment you were going through?
I've seen emptiness. A canyon filled with lives made up of vacancies.
And I'm still sane.
Life protects you from facing the gorge that disembowls your inner warmth. Whatever is hidden in your soul, that baby that still lives inside, screaming for attention, is flunked by all the social conventions and desires of power everyone of us follows and craves.
Thinking about it, I can say I'm starting to see more and more of nothing.
As summer approaches again, and soon I will be left without the structure and the routine I'm strapped to now, I realise how weak we all are.
I'm happy at the moment. People are surrounding me in every direction. I'm part of the audience. I'm in there.
Soon, with no school, and no friends close-by, and that dreadful word that separates you from your usual life ("holiday"), I will witness the inevitable, grinding feeling of emptiness inside.
While everyone is enjoying hot summer, I'll still be here. On holiday, sure, but everything will have disappeared. I'll think too much, and start regretting.
Everyone sees summer as the happy season, where everything is fine. I think it's the most depressing time of the year.
When I'm left at home, inbetween a holiday, with all my friends and my family out there, enjoying it, I feel like I'm missing out. Everything good, bright, fun and enjoyable is happening somewhere else.
It's unbearable.
I hate reconsidering my life. It drives me closer to cancelling out everything good just in the hope of making it better. I'm just so happy with what I have now, that I don't want a divide like summer to come, break it up, and ruin it.
But it's inevitable. Maybe it will turn out OK, but there's still a maybe.
I love everything I have now, but I'm on the edge of crossroads, and if I stall, I'll end up taking the wrong path...and it will lead me even further down the path I am trying to get away from now: the path to moments of emptiness.
Moments where you can't help but think about all the things that you've done, all the things you could have done, all the things that must be done, and all the things left out of the audience.
Moments where you feel small.
Moments like this.
Could you cope?
Would you be capable of facing the ravine you were born with, that you never used or even considered?
What the fuck would you do with it?
Since it's all that you have left, take a look...
Once you saw the greyness and shallowness of the soul you kept for so long in the dark, would you regret insulting your best friend, rejecting your father, or saying those horrible things to your mother?
Would you regret leaving the girl or guy you once could donate your entire life to?
Would you think back to the crossroads you once stalled upon, and regret taking the one that led you to the emptiness of the moment you were going through?
I've seen emptiness. A canyon filled with lives made up of vacancies.
And I'm still sane.
Life protects you from facing the gorge that disembowls your inner warmth. Whatever is hidden in your soul, that baby that still lives inside, screaming for attention, is flunked by all the social conventions and desires of power everyone of us follows and craves.
Thinking about it, I can say I'm starting to see more and more of nothing.
As summer approaches again, and soon I will be left without the structure and the routine I'm strapped to now, I realise how weak we all are.
I'm happy at the moment. People are surrounding me in every direction. I'm part of the audience. I'm in there.
Soon, with no school, and no friends close-by, and that dreadful word that separates you from your usual life ("holiday"), I will witness the inevitable, grinding feeling of emptiness inside.
While everyone is enjoying hot summer, I'll still be here. On holiday, sure, but everything will have disappeared. I'll think too much, and start regretting.
Everyone sees summer as the happy season, where everything is fine. I think it's the most depressing time of the year.
When I'm left at home, inbetween a holiday, with all my friends and my family out there, enjoying it, I feel like I'm missing out. Everything good, bright, fun and enjoyable is happening somewhere else.
It's unbearable.
I hate reconsidering my life. It drives me closer to cancelling out everything good just in the hope of making it better. I'm just so happy with what I have now, that I don't want a divide like summer to come, break it up, and ruin it.
But it's inevitable. Maybe it will turn out OK, but there's still a maybe.
I love everything I have now, but I'm on the edge of crossroads, and if I stall, I'll end up taking the wrong path...and it will lead me even further down the path I am trying to get away from now: the path to moments of emptiness.
Moments where you can't help but think about all the things that you've done, all the things you could have done, all the things that must be done, and all the things left out of the audience.
Moments where you feel small.
Moments like this.
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