13.11.06
I wonder how this works...
Step 1. Snatch a thought, catch a fallen star, steal a beam from the moon.
Step 2. Put it in your pocket
Step 3. Shut your pocket, make a wish, and swallow your loot.
Step 4. Do it all over again...
Sometimes it feels like life is a cycle, other times its the same road trip that leads me to the same place or I tend to take the same route every time I try to initiate a nova journey. Maybe it's because it's only me in this jalopy of a puguet. Am I the one making faces so someone charming will help me or do I make faces to scare others away? No matter what, it seems to stick with just me in this puguet, but somehow a whisper tells me I'm not alone. But I think I just might be and may not find a way to end that curse. I would walk my last strides like the Lady of Shalott and die downstream in search of what I knew I should not have saught.
tea is served @ 11:22 p. m.
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26.10.06
"The sadest part...isn't the ending as much as the start."
Rotting messages and drying flowers
A lovely painting to a tragic art
These words form eternal powers
"Losing your mind for the sake of your heart"
Let it die, let it sleep with a dying lark
They entwined their images for a beautiful part
How morbid the shining sun is to the dark
Eternal lines, make this grow
Cycling men, make this blow
Jingling keys, close this door
The gatekeeper at last is soar
tea is served @ 9:04 a. m.
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3.10.06
Simply beyond wild
Listening to the girls giggling in the lavatory
Seeing a transformed figure in the mirror
Staring at the distant thought of yesterday
Wondering whether or not she is a vamp
Understanding that time is fallen petal
Freezing actions
Writing air
Connecting stones
Losing hope
Finding strength
Seeking redemption
Winning a forgotten battle
The power to change is only a mirror
And she finds faith in tears
tea is served @ 9:55 a. m.
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2.9.06
"I write my tragedies."
tea is served @ 8:06 p. m.
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29.8.06
So it's been some years, lots of days and several hours,
Since when? Since what? A moment's truth? A second's betrayal?
To what extent is life that of a story already complete?
Since when was I to know how things are "suppose" to be?
This life is an ongoing story and nothing more
Filled with trials and errors and memorable successes.
Regrets are a waste of time,
God watches us in these moments not those of yesterday
Seek forgiveness and move on
For the best travellers look ahead of them and observe what they pass
Not what they left behind, broke, and especially not what they missed.
tea is served @ 9:52 p. m.
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25.8.06
[Beautiful Day without You vid.]
The crumpled paper morph into oragami cranes,
An octipus crept from the sewers onto the street,
And it's not he who stands in defeat
A hooded heart strolls through the streets wearing a mask
Passing puddles where gold fish jump from one to the next
And she sits alone watching the boats glide by with a smile
He stands on a bridge overlooking an empty sea
She lays on a bench gazing at the darkening sky
They realised they belong apart
tea is served @ 6:21 p. m.
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14.8.06
A dream of the past
With the chance to change the future
Shall a different turn be taken?
Shall the slate stay clean?
Yesterday's refusal would wipe out what we know today
Yesterday's approval would destroy what we hoped for
tea is served @ 9:16 p. m.
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