Whispers can echo...
I'm up again. Last thursday night, I stayed up all night too. This time it's much harder.
Have you ever wondered what it's like to think as someone else? I always imagined that if i switched bodies with someone, that I would think differently too, but retain my thoughts. I would have to go about restructuring their brain and where they hold their memories so that I could recall things better and faster... color-code my connotations if you will. It's like a machine, the mind, and the movie that depicts what I think the mind is MOST is The Cell. I would imagine the environment a bit more shakey, not really a palace like place, but more like a swirling arena of jumbled thoughts. I have trouble concentrating, so some things would be crystal clear, and some things would be hazey, only being able to be seen for a mere moment, and then vanishing. I imagine giving someone a tour of my mind, showing them my happy thoughts, and taking them just close enough to see the demons that plague my nightmares, the angels that float within my dreams, and the empty fathoms of my goals. We would, of course, pass by the vault. The vault is a place where even the owner dares not go. All secrets and realizations of a dangerous nature are kept there, and to open the door can risk life and limb.
I just want to crawl inside someone's arms... someone I love, someone who knows I love them. I just want to be blanketed and sleep for a month. I want to kiss and feel warmth on my spine, and the tingle in my toes. I want to not care how cold I am when I give my jacket to someone, and I just want to feel that security... the security that, knowing if I were to die, I would feel comfortable. But it's all a game, they say, just a game. Well, I'm a gamer, and I love to play, but I hate to say I can't see how I can keep this up, either way.
I play fair, but hardly get a chance. Luck may grace me one day, but until that day comes I'll say that once she meets me she'll have to pray that I still long enough to see her another day.
Sometimes, it's the simple things in life we have to live for, the things we can't explain, and don't want to confess to. We need purpose in our lives and acceptance, somehow. Maybe I'm this way because I don't believe in God. Maybe I'm this way because God doesn't believe in me.
Have you ever wondered what it's like to think as someone else? I always imagined that if i switched bodies with someone, that I would think differently too, but retain my thoughts. I would have to go about restructuring their brain and where they hold their memories so that I could recall things better and faster... color-code my connotations if you will. It's like a machine, the mind, and the movie that depicts what I think the mind is MOST is The Cell. I would imagine the environment a bit more shakey, not really a palace like place, but more like a swirling arena of jumbled thoughts. I have trouble concentrating, so some things would be crystal clear, and some things would be hazey, only being able to be seen for a mere moment, and then vanishing. I imagine giving someone a tour of my mind, showing them my happy thoughts, and taking them just close enough to see the demons that plague my nightmares, the angels that float within my dreams, and the empty fathoms of my goals. We would, of course, pass by the vault. The vault is a place where even the owner dares not go. All secrets and realizations of a dangerous nature are kept there, and to open the door can risk life and limb.
I just want to crawl inside someone's arms... someone I love, someone who knows I love them. I just want to be blanketed and sleep for a month. I want to kiss and feel warmth on my spine, and the tingle in my toes. I want to not care how cold I am when I give my jacket to someone, and I just want to feel that security... the security that, knowing if I were to die, I would feel comfortable. But it's all a game, they say, just a game. Well, I'm a gamer, and I love to play, but I hate to say I can't see how I can keep this up, either way.
I play fair, but hardly get a chance. Luck may grace me one day, but until that day comes I'll say that once she meets me she'll have to pray that I still long enough to see her another day.
Sometimes, it's the simple things in life we have to live for, the things we can't explain, and don't want to confess to. We need purpose in our lives and acceptance, somehow. Maybe I'm this way because I don't believe in God. Maybe I'm this way because God doesn't believe in me.