Thursday, December 27, 2007
So called freedom...
As I expose myself to the uncertain, I see the world I spent so much time creating fall appart...
As I look into the mirror of my soul, I can notice that the bubble I once lived in is gone...
As I move into a new world full of wide open chances, I can't avoid looking back and missing that almost perfect and harmonic security I lived in...
As I keep on walking through this strange land that gifts its wonders to me, I can't help thinking of you, and how much I'd wish you'd be here, by my side...
Because I know this is a land worth walking, a world worth discovering, a path to something better, the start of something beautiful. But I just can't picture myself in it, at least not without you...
 
Do you care? manifestó esto a las 3:32 PM | 1 ha(n) opinado
Monday, December 17, 2007
Nothing...
Chewing time away as I expect the arrival, the start of something beautiful, as the song says. I used to love writing, as I used to write my loves. Now I find myself self-censored, trying to find the way out again.


You see, thoughts are tricky, they have a life of their own. Sometimes you find yourself locked inside your mind, not knowing what to do, or where to go, or who to talk to; and it's all because you don't have peace of mind.


Easy to say, you might think, but not to achieve, and I will agree, although not in full, for easy and hard are relative things, and power's not outside, it's in all of us, it's within.


It's a hard subject to deal with, the Human mind, almost as hard to understand as Human relations. Would you think so?


I guess not, I like thinking too much, sometimes way too much.
Just pass it over, do not pay attention, just stupid things in a troubled mind...


And I guess I wouldn't even be able to say if it's original or not. The thought, I mean, I may believe, deep, deep inside, that I'm better than you, and not even notice. I guess thoughts can be more dangerous than I thought...


So, leaving that behind. What is it that you care about?


I like talking, and I used to love writing... I used to write my loves as well, or what I made seem as my loves, they were mainly just sad stories I enoyed because I thought they'd draw some attention. I guess I had my teenager stage after all, I don't think someone can escape it, it's just that each person lives it their own way.


And so... This "inspirationless" text comes to an end, just a brief nothing that I felt like writing...


I'll just go back to chewing time away, waiting... For the start of something beautiful...
 
Do you care? manifestó esto a las 5:49 PM | 1 ha(n) opinado