(no subject)
Mankind has mostly corrupted the purpose of communication. In its early stages, pointing and grunting a bit sufficed. In fact, it still does around people who speak Grunt. (I'm conversational, not really fluent.) From there, it went to more sounds then to developed sounds to words to strings of words and BOOM a language. Flash forward to modern American society. There's newpapers, magazines, television, the internet, MUSIC, painting, drawing, sculpting, dancing... so many ways to express an idea or desire or need. And yet, it is incredibly difficult for you to find words for those feelings that rake your senses when you can't sleep, that twist your stomach and make you cry for reasons you are at an utter loss to describe. For emotions that seem to come from somewhere deep inside, clawing their way out as they strive for validation. All of the things you couldn't say linger on your tongue like vile, stinging and bitter and repulsive. All of the scenes in which you wish you could play a part run through your mind, the coupling complete and emotional outlets provided.
I want good love... want it so bad... it's a seed stuck in my throat; it's a lead around my hope. It makes me choke and I only breathe outside, or in tall buildings with high ceilings and open doors. Isn't there someone out there I am here for? It takes a will just to make it through the night. When to wait, and when to fight? I'm swinging-- missing. When we meet, will his eyes recall me? I look for his face everywhere in the dark. And I carry my torch of bright stars... couples kiss across counters & tables, I smile and then look at the wall. Some people hold hands and they don't pay attention, like their love is someone else's invention. Our heads say hold back, but our hearts run to strangers and say "look at me! look at me! look at me!"...
"Saturn's Light" Deb Talan
I want something more than this.
I want good love... want it so bad... it's a seed stuck in my throat; it's a lead around my hope. It makes me choke and I only breathe outside, or in tall buildings with high ceilings and open doors. Isn't there someone out there I am here for? It takes a will just to make it through the night. When to wait, and when to fight? I'm swinging-- missing. When we meet, will his eyes recall me? I look for his face everywhere in the dark. And I carry my torch of bright stars... couples kiss across counters & tables, I smile and then look at the wall. Some people hold hands and they don't pay attention, like their love is someone else's invention. Our heads say hold back, but our hearts run to strangers and say "look at me! look at me! look at me!"...
"Saturn's Light" Deb Talan
I want something more than this.