Distant city nights,
Those faraway lights,
On the eastern border;
Colored lights quarter.
There should be hubbub,
And people club to club;
Dancing nights of August,
Music mellow and robust!
......
It’s like being on the cusp of victory
The finishing line is clearly within your grasp
The path is clear and ever bright
Ahead of you, there is no one in sight
Intense excitement is building at every second
Convinced that you will win
This elated feeling of happiness
Is rising from within
......
The mind begs to be excited yet you find it uniquely masculine to be dull. When your mind desires excitement, to be eccentric?
Stop lying to yourself, it’s ugly, grotesque and you shouldn’t like it. You don’t like it, in fact, you can’t. You hate it and you know it, to be dull is to be dead so stop being it.
Truly living is a deeply warm understanding of comfortable uncomfortableness, unconformity. Still you regress. You dip your toes in the hot steamy waters of love for a fleeting moment, fearing that it might one day run cold. Yet you fail to see, to feel, that you are already drowning in the icy cold waters of isolation.
Stop retreating your mind to a place of insecure safety, you’re not safe, you’re imprisoned, I promise there’s a difference. It’s not weak to care, it’s not strong to leave.
Your life, off track, you sprint. Racing a speeding locamotive as if you are Superman though you and I know you are not, not close. By some miracle of God you find enough imagination to be narcissistic, but not enough to be happy? Depressing.
......
Rapidly down the mountainside,
The pure powdery snow spraying!
Nearer to vast sapphire skies,
And long ere a perplexed purple.
Bracing winds travel from afar,
And carelessly tousle the hair,
Long after the mists of orange,
In the treasured golden noon,
On the other side of the moon!
Enormous speeds are attained,
......
The mind begs to be excited yet you find it uniquely masculine to be dull. When your mind desires excitement, to be eccentric?
Stop lying to yourself, it’s ugly, grotesque and you shouldn’t like it. You don’t like it, in fact, you can’t. You hate it and you know it, to be dull is to be dead so stop being it.
Truly living is a deeply warm understanding of comfortable uncomfortableness, unconformity. Still you regress. You dip your toes in the hot steamy waters of love for a fleeting moment, fearing that it might one day run cold. Yet you fail to see, to feel, that you are already drowning in the icy cold waters of isolation.
Stop retreating your mind to a place of insecure safety, you’re not safe, you’re imprisoned, I promise there’s a difference. It’s not weak to care, it’s not strong to leave.
Your life, off track, you sprint. Racing a speeding locamotive as if you are Superman though you and I know you are not, not close. By some miracle of God you find enough imagination to be narcissistic, but not enough to be happy? Depressing.
......
It’s like being on the cusp of victory
The finishing line is clearly within your grasp
The path is clear and ever bright
Ahead of you, there is no one in sight
Intense excitement is building at every second
Convinced that you will win
This elated feeling of happiness
Is rising from within
......
Rapidly down the mountainside,
The pure powdery snow spraying!
Nearer to vast sapphire skies,
And long ere a perplexed purple.
Bracing winds travel from afar,
And carelessly tousle the hair,
Long after the mists of orange,
In the treasured golden noon,
On the other side of the moon!
Enormous speeds are attained,
......
Distant city nights,
Those faraway lights,
On the eastern border;
Colored lights quarter.
There should be hubbub,
And people club to club;
Dancing nights of August,
Music mellow and robust!
......