learning to fall
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how strange it is...the situations we find ourselves in. the way circumstances change across the board. our lives. always morphing into something .n.e.w. or maybe nothing new but a shape slightly askew from what we've seen before.
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always changing, and through it all, always searching, reaching out for a connection to someone who will understand what it is we are going through. and do we ever? it grows harder with every passing day wegrowmoredesperate to place our faith in anyone.anything.nothing. even our conversations grow disjointed, uneven, broken (if they were ever whole). we constantly stutter, repeat ourselves, search for a new way to express all that is repressed behind our eyes.
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are we repressed? or oppressed by our own choice? maybe repressed, at first. but then we begin to find comfort in our tragedy and we crave that false sense of normalcy we find in our fucked up state-of-mind. we are a fucked up generation and it is the reason we thrive. it is the reason we haunt these streets day in and day out. we crave the tragic.
i know i speak not only on my own behalf because i've seen that lookinyoureyes. i've heard the raggedgaspsforbreath behind your bedroom door. i've seen your arms slicedbyyourownhand not because you desired death but because you wanted to feel. you wanted to spit in the face of the numbness that had invaded your soul.
now stop. i want you to tell me why you have found this tragedy so appealing. i want you to look at this beautiful world and tell me why day after day you find nothing to smile about. why you refuse to remember all the amazing moments i know you have had. tell me all the good things in your life....and feel it. the warmth creeping from your heart, across your lips, through your hands and your feet. really feel it. know it is true.
i would rather feel all those bad things to the very core of my being knowing that i can feel a good that the mere thought of, will restore anything i thought was broken, than live a life of mediocrity. fuck mediocrity. fuck your fears. you can't look around and see everything beautiful if you never open your eyes.
how strange it is...the situations we find ourselves in. the way circumstances change across the board. our lives. always morphing into something .n.e.w. or maybe nothing new but a shape slightly askew from what we've seen before.
<<>>
always changing, and through it all, always searching, reaching out for a connection to someone who will understand what it is we are going through. and do we ever? it grows harder with every passing day wegrowmoredesperate to place our faith in anyone.anything.nothing. even our conversations grow disjointed, uneven, broken (if they were ever whole). we constantly stutter, repeat ourselves, search for a new way to express all that is repressed behind our eyes.
<<>>
are we repressed? or oppressed by our own choice? maybe repressed, at first. but then we begin to find comfort in our tragedy and we crave that false sense of normalcy we find in our fucked up state-of-mind. we are a fucked up generation and it is the reason we thrive. it is the reason we haunt these streets day in and day out. we crave the tragic.
i know i speak not only on my own behalf because i've seen that lookinyoureyes. i've heard the raggedgaspsforbreath behind your bedroom door. i've seen your arms slicedbyyourownhand not because you desired death but because you wanted to feel. you wanted to spit in the face of the numbness that had invaded your soul.
now stop. i want you to tell me why you have found this tragedy so appealing. i want you to look at this beautiful world and tell me why day after day you find nothing to smile about. why you refuse to remember all the amazing moments i know you have had. tell me all the good things in your life....and feel it. the warmth creeping from your heart, across your lips, through your hands and your feet. really feel it. know it is true.
i would rather feel all those bad things to the very core of my being knowing that i can feel a good that the mere thought of, will restore anything i thought was broken, than live a life of mediocrity. fuck mediocrity. fuck your fears. you can't look around and see everything beautiful if you never open your eyes.