Wanting to come out and play. Watching the stars fade away.
Wondering where you will be when the sunlight doesn't set you free?
One by one we walked onto the sun and watched our ashes float above the night sky.
Nothing will ever be the same, smiles seem to fade away, just like the stars did on that fateful day.
Where will you go, where will you hide - when they come to watch you taken by the tide?
So come with me, lets sit under my funny apple tree, we can turn it upside down and go under ground. Where the clouds sore so high in a fantastic lie - just you and me in my imagination of temptation.
Pure creation, elation, you and me flying over the sea, over the trees in what seems to be - all degrees.
Imagination of temptation free from taxation, all their fixation... just you and me, all in our Imaginations Of Temptations .
Exploring the mind. Finding a quiet place in yourself away from the chaos around us. Just read and take yourself away, be open minded. Nothing has to follow a set of rules, you don't have to be what they want you to be. Just live as free as you can, enjoy life for what it is - just remember there's is no truer saying than "Life is what you make it"
Friday, September 25, 2015
Thursday, September 17, 2015
Suicide Note
Dear...
I apologise for my abrupt, unexpected, departure from this life draining Earth... once home, once a great place to explore in ignorance. Now ticking clocks unable to stop, every second gone by, another closer to an inevitable end. "Life is what you make of it"... well I sure fucked that up... anxiety, tick, tick, tick, tick... clock keeps on, tap tap tap tap tap... uncontrollable tapping of my foot watching people walk by filled with ignorance - oh how I wish...
Anxiety grows, wondering "What if?"
Constant idiocy filling the airwaves of our radios, frequency scrambles during a song and I hear the voices of another racist pig trying to justify why his race needs more... is it not old news? Everyday driving through the same dip - same scramble, same old shit, different voice - but still same old shit... "We need more", FUCK YOU!!! Work for more... why must innocent people answer for the mistakes of the idiots before us?
Always alone... sitting in my own thoughts, sitting... alone in my own thoughts, memories... happy, angry, sad... lonely memories. Its not your fault, its not you, you did nothing wrong... nothing at all - you were the best you could be. A choice, a wrong turn, no turning back... time doesn't wait for us.
You were helpful, you gave where you could and when you couldn't - guilt filled you up like a leaking boat at sea.
Love broke you more than once and the last time, lingers more than the rest - emotional turmoil... I was broken, I fought hard, I fought like I should have fought, fought for something we both felt but one side, even though the love was felt... walked away for no real good reason - in fact there was no real reason ever given... just a bunch of stupid fears summoned up by a bad past. "Don't let your past affect your future or your present"
Third person writing, starting to wonder who this person is?
Could it be me?
Sitting on the edge of a boat in the middle of the sea... no one knows where you, I, you, I am, you are. Staring at the loaded gun wondering if it will hurt? Phone keeps beeping, BEEP "Where are you?", BEEP "Are you okay?", BEEP "Hey people keep calling me asking if they have seen you, what's up you okay?" BEEP "I miss u! Sorry I hurt you". Now before you think this is about a girl - its not.
Sun starts to set, beautiful, you start to see how peaceful the world is without the hustle of the Internet, news, radio, idiots, clocks - I hate clocks.
You hold the gun up to your head... hesitation, I wonder if it wil
I apologise for my abrupt, unexpected, departure from this life draining Earth... once home, once a great place to explore in ignorance. Now ticking clocks unable to stop, every second gone by, another closer to an inevitable end. "Life is what you make of it"... well I sure fucked that up... anxiety, tick, tick, tick, tick... clock keeps on, tap tap tap tap tap... uncontrollable tapping of my foot watching people walk by filled with ignorance - oh how I wish...
Anxiety grows, wondering "What if?"
Constant idiocy filling the airwaves of our radios, frequency scrambles during a song and I hear the voices of another racist pig trying to justify why his race needs more... is it not old news? Everyday driving through the same dip - same scramble, same old shit, different voice - but still same old shit... "We need more", FUCK YOU!!! Work for more... why must innocent people answer for the mistakes of the idiots before us?
Always alone... sitting in my own thoughts, sitting... alone in my own thoughts, memories... happy, angry, sad... lonely memories. Its not your fault, its not you, you did nothing wrong... nothing at all - you were the best you could be. A choice, a wrong turn, no turning back... time doesn't wait for us.
You were helpful, you gave where you could and when you couldn't - guilt filled you up like a leaking boat at sea.
Love broke you more than once and the last time, lingers more than the rest - emotional turmoil... I was broken, I fought hard, I fought like I should have fought, fought for something we both felt but one side, even though the love was felt... walked away for no real good reason - in fact there was no real reason ever given... just a bunch of stupid fears summoned up by a bad past. "Don't let your past affect your future or your present"
Third person writing, starting to wonder who this person is?
Could it be me?
Sitting on the edge of a boat in the middle of the sea... no one knows where you, I, you, I am, you are. Staring at the loaded gun wondering if it will hurt? Phone keeps beeping, BEEP "Where are you?", BEEP "Are you okay?", BEEP "Hey people keep calling me asking if they have seen you, what's up you okay?" BEEP "I miss u! Sorry I hurt you". Now before you think this is about a girl - its not.
Sun starts to set, beautiful, you start to see how peaceful the world is without the hustle of the Internet, news, radio, idiots, clocks - I hate clocks.
You hold the gun up to your head... hesitation, I wonder if it wil
Friday, May 22, 2015
Record Player
The sound is sweet, the music plays in the distance, pure instrumental. No one can seem to place where its coming from. Its far away, down the long stretch of road cutting through what seems to be nothing but open land and long stretch of beach. Mist hangs thick in the crisp air of the night... in the distance - lights... lights from a small house.
The house stands on the beach overlooking the sea, all alone and vulnerable. At the door is a knock... no answer... the music has stopped and turned to a slight crackle. The door is slightly open, cigarette in the ashtray, a thin smoke trail floating up into the sad atmosphere. On the table stands the guilty party for the once sweet music and now subtle sound of crackling - a record player.
A lady steps out of the bedroom, brushing her hair... eyes red and filled with sorrow, she'd been crying. She turns and peers out the sliding door, nothings changed, a misty, sad view of nothing. She turns to the man and looks into his eyes... his eyes silent - unbearably silent. She kisses him... he touches her soft lips and slips away into the darkness. She falls to her knees crying and pleading for her love to come back. He cant... crackling fills the room, surrounding, strangling, suffocating her and everything else - the record player... the last thing he ever gave her.
The house stands on the beach overlooking the sea, all alone and vulnerable. At the door is a knock... no answer... the music has stopped and turned to a slight crackle. The door is slightly open, cigarette in the ashtray, a thin smoke trail floating up into the sad atmosphere. On the table stands the guilty party for the once sweet music and now subtle sound of crackling - a record player.
A lady steps out of the bedroom, brushing her hair... eyes red and filled with sorrow, she'd been crying. She turns and peers out the sliding door, nothings changed, a misty, sad view of nothing. She turns to the man and looks into his eyes... his eyes silent - unbearably silent. She kisses him... he touches her soft lips and slips away into the darkness. She falls to her knees crying and pleading for her love to come back. He cant... crackling fills the room, surrounding, strangling, suffocating her and everything else - the record player... the last thing he ever gave her.
Labels:
imagination,
Love,
memories,
Short story,
special,
Thought,
Time
FREEDOM!!!
YES!! YES!!
No... my life is still just... maybe if I look further beyond the grey window of insanity?
Then off I can go to the silent hills, where I will sit with a man of wisdom. He will lecture - yet... his lips stitched closed.
I do not understand... is this what is to become of me, in this world that drapes its black cloth of sorrow over its shoulders?
NO!! NEVER!!
I WILL break free! Free of these chains that hold my thoughts locked down for no man to see!
I will live to fight for freedom that should be ours!
When every man is free and understands why - only then will the world be free from its insanity.
YES!!
Yes... my life shall live long in freedom!
No... my life is still just... maybe if I look further beyond the grey window of insanity?
Then off I can go to the silent hills, where I will sit with a man of wisdom. He will lecture - yet... his lips stitched closed.
I do not understand... is this what is to become of me, in this world that drapes its black cloth of sorrow over its shoulders?
NO!! NEVER!!
I WILL break free! Free of these chains that hold my thoughts locked down for no man to see!
I will live to fight for freedom that should be ours!
When every man is free and understands why - only then will the world be free from its insanity.
YES!!
Yes... my life shall live long in freedom!
Thursday, September 25, 2014
One...
She wonders out of sight, far from his eyes... who is she? Where is she?
He wonders out of sight, far from her eyes... who is he? Where is he?
One moment, one day, one month, one year. How long, how far, how many people before they lock eyes for the first time?
One kiss... true love pressed against their lips... soft gentle touch from neck to ear, warm breath on her ear leaving goose bumps running down her spine.
Soft touch, her hands turn to gentle claws running her nails down his back... true love felt pressed on their skin.
Passion running through their veins, ecstasy and delight. Staring deep into each others eyes as they both slowly fall asleep.
Sun lights creeps through the windows, one set of eyes open, one smile, one person, only to find...
One morning, one note, one goodbye... one lost love - one night stand.
He wonders out of sight, far from her eyes... who is he? Where is he?
One moment, one day, one month, one year. How long, how far, how many people before they lock eyes for the first time?
One kiss... true love pressed against their lips... soft gentle touch from neck to ear, warm breath on her ear leaving goose bumps running down her spine.
Soft touch, her hands turn to gentle claws running her nails down his back... true love felt pressed on their skin.
Passion running through their veins, ecstasy and delight. Staring deep into each others eyes as they both slowly fall asleep.
Sun lights creeps through the windows, one set of eyes open, one smile, one person, only to find...
One morning, one note, one goodbye... one lost love - one night stand.
Thursday, September 4, 2014
not sure
Too young to keep love from going wrong... wondering where she has gone.
Should of, probably could of come over...
Not sure why it all was thrown away - still waiting for a simple reply.
She is on his mind, the difference of an eager mind and a troubled mind. Too many thoughts, just another sigh of why.
Love to make you feel fine, comfort and possibilities - science then reminds you its a lie.
Not so romantic when its worn off - love or lust? Not sure... But she's on his mind.
A million different words to fill in how you feel, more we know... just finding the right ones seem to slip away.
Plenty good times forgotten over time, maybe not? Though he cant get the world to remember good times, it's up to the world - remember that time?
Closed doors, much too young to keep love from going wrong. Lost she is on his mind - she cant find her way out, maybe in time?
Night e o, sleep sweet.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Eyes
They all would talk of the man on the hill, the one that would always sit and stare out into his garden... they all have been warned of this man.
He would sit and wait till the sun would set behind his house, before looking for someone else to join him, as the sun would set he would seek for the next mindless follower to join him...
He would sit and wait till the sun would set behind his house, before looking for someone else to join him, as the sun would set he would seek for the next mindless follower to join him...
As the years rolled on he would stand by the mirror fixing his ever greying hair...
The people calling out to him would be ignored and off he would set to find that mindless follower to add to his growing desire.
As his desire grew the less space he had and the more the people would call out to him, he always knew they were near he could almost feel them touch his skin - goosebumps would grow with each touch... The mirror faced the passage and he could see everything that happened behind him, from the rats that would run from hole to hole, to the leaves of the tree casting its shadow through his window and onto his wall.
His memories would start to fade but those around him would always remember his wrongs.
As he fixed his now white hair, they knew that his last night was tonight. His old bones creaked as he reached the door... there was a heavy thud and the sound of wheezing - a man needing oxygen but the oxygen wanting to go everywhere else - besides his lungs.
Now as they drew closer, almost able to touch what last touched them, he moaned and groaned as the life was sucked out of him, their hands wrapped around his limbs as they dragged him into their hell, all his memories flashed before him, grave after grave, blood, knives, fear, families torn apart by death, all his joys were now becoming their revenge... his screams echoed through his house leaving his walls painted with death.
They finally reached their desire, as he once had his - they had theirs. The old mans body never was found...
His memories would start to fade but those around him would always remember his wrongs.
As he fixed his now white hair, they knew that his last night was tonight. His old bones creaked as he reached the door... there was a heavy thud and the sound of wheezing - a man needing oxygen but the oxygen wanting to go everywhere else - besides his lungs.
Now as they drew closer, almost able to touch what last touched them, he moaned and groaned as the life was sucked out of him, their hands wrapped around his limbs as they dragged him into their hell, all his memories flashed before him, grave after grave, blood, knives, fear, families torn apart by death, all his joys were now becoming their revenge... his screams echoed through his house leaving his walls painted with death.
They finally reached their desire, as he once had his - they had theirs. The old mans body never was found...
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