Monument.
To write something that moves someone, you need to have emotion. You need to break the walls inside, let it flow without thought. It doesn't need to rhyme, or have a catchy tune, it just has to touch. It has to dance with them on the night of their first kiss, shelter them from the memory of their parents, follow them on their reckless drive with no destination. It has to become a part of their very soul. Sure, a catchy tune can excite someone, or a rhyme can make someone think, but to change someone, to make them realize something inside themselves, that is true art.
What a wonder it would be, to dip my hand in that vast ocean of emotion. To scoop up even a little of my essence, to bring it to life for you to share. To make you feel as I feel, to make us one, for just an instant as so many people have done before me. That is the intimacy I want my words to convey.
A bitter pill to swallow, knowing your dreams are but seeds in a barren land. The effect I will have on your being is nothing more than a whisper, and echo of some ache you once felt. Never will my words open old wounds, or locked doors to an oasis of suppressed emotion.
I will only carry you as far as my next word, hold you only as long as it takes to finish. What dream do you have, that is nothing more than ashes in the wind? What thought do you hide away, hoping, wishing for, too frightened to admit that its an impossibility? Even if you did admit that fact, still, you would not be able to keep yourself from hoping, would you? No, that fire will still burn long after the dream fades, long enough to ignite a new dream, another blaze.
After all, if we didn't want to live, we wouldn't be here. If it was truly so bad, you would see to it that you didn't have to manage the burden. Its not that you cant end it, its that you don't want too. The spark hasn't faded. Hope, ever so slight, has yet to abandon you. Something still exsists to lose yourself in. Really, its should be called finding yourself, though, shouldn't it? In those few moments, when you are more than yourself, when you feel so connected that you become a part of something else. Those moments, that is what it truely feels like the be alive.
To feel that excitement, that pain, that love to such an extreme. That is what I want to make. I want to open that window to the sky for you. If only this mundane dribble could connect with you. If only, on some level, it could bring out the best, the worst, the part of you that makes living worth it. To help people in this way, to share my being. It is my eternal dream of escape, the thing I fall back upon, when I realize my wishing, my hoping is fruitless.
The only real thing I want is as simple as my skill. I wish to be happy. Unfortunate, that this is the most sought after thing. Since it is in such high demand, it is easy to see why there is such a shortage. Wouldn't you agree?
What a wonder it would be, to dip my hand in that vast ocean of emotion. To scoop up even a little of my essence, to bring it to life for you to share. To make you feel as I feel, to make us one, for just an instant as so many people have done before me. That is the intimacy I want my words to convey.
A bitter pill to swallow, knowing your dreams are but seeds in a barren land. The effect I will have on your being is nothing more than a whisper, and echo of some ache you once felt. Never will my words open old wounds, or locked doors to an oasis of suppressed emotion.
I will only carry you as far as my next word, hold you only as long as it takes to finish. What dream do you have, that is nothing more than ashes in the wind? What thought do you hide away, hoping, wishing for, too frightened to admit that its an impossibility? Even if you did admit that fact, still, you would not be able to keep yourself from hoping, would you? No, that fire will still burn long after the dream fades, long enough to ignite a new dream, another blaze.
After all, if we didn't want to live, we wouldn't be here. If it was truly so bad, you would see to it that you didn't have to manage the burden. Its not that you cant end it, its that you don't want too. The spark hasn't faded. Hope, ever so slight, has yet to abandon you. Something still exsists to lose yourself in. Really, its should be called finding yourself, though, shouldn't it? In those few moments, when you are more than yourself, when you feel so connected that you become a part of something else. Those moments, that is what it truely feels like the be alive.
To feel that excitement, that pain, that love to such an extreme. That is what I want to make. I want to open that window to the sky for you. If only this mundane dribble could connect with you. If only, on some level, it could bring out the best, the worst, the part of you that makes living worth it. To help people in this way, to share my being. It is my eternal dream of escape, the thing I fall back upon, when I realize my wishing, my hoping is fruitless.
The only real thing I want is as simple as my skill. I wish to be happy. Unfortunate, that this is the most sought after thing. Since it is in such high demand, it is easy to see why there is such a shortage. Wouldn't you agree?