Or maybe he understands you've made a witty remar but, unsure of what to do with it, he holds it in his hand lile a bit of conversational phlegm he will wipe away later. You spend another how trying to find each other, recognize each other, and you drink a little too much and try a little too hard.
And you simply go home to a icy cold bed and think to yourself " that was fine " and from then on your whole life becomes one long line of fine.
SOMETIMES I THINK ABOUT THE SUN AND THE MOON AS LOVERS
WHO RARELY MEET, ALWAYS CHASE AND ALWAYS MISS ONE ANOTHER
BUT ONCE IN A WHILE THEY DO CATCH UP,
AND THEY FINALLY KISS
ANS THE WORLD STARES IN AWE
AT THEIR ECLIPSE
2AM is for the poets who
Cant sleep because their
Minds are alive with words
For someone who isn't there
For the alcoholics who drown themselves
Into amnesia
To forget someone who left
2AM is not for the lovers
Wrapped into each others arms
Tangled up in each others bodies
Its for the lonely ones
The ones who love the loved ones
But are no loved in return
All i ever wanted to do was write down everything that had happened, to see if by committing it to paper I could make some sense of it all. Or perhaps I just needed to prove to everyone, even myself that I wasn’t going crazy.
I wrote it all. It never made sense. And after all that pain of my bruised fingers from holding that pen so tight, i realised.
That yes i may be crazy. But crazy is golden. Its rare and im unique.
I dont know whats wrong with me
Just when things start to go well
I start planting land mines inside the pot holes of my brain
Everything explodes
And im left alone
And for some twisted, fucked up reason, i am led and convinced myself that this is where i belong
in misery
Im home
We cling to music, poetry and art
To writing and to quotes
Because we desperately do not want to be alone
We want to know that we aren't going crazy
And that we aren't alone
Someone else knows exactly how you're feeling
We want someone to explain the things we cant
Unfortunately, you will always be too much for something for someone;
Too loud
Too big
Too soft
Too edgy
And if you round your edges, you lose your unique touch
Just simply;
Apologise for your mistakes
Apologise for unitentionally causing pain - profusely
But never apologise for your feelings and who you are
Im broken, hurt and yet im sorry. So damn sorry.
I ached for your tongue
Your venomous lips
I took you in
I was suppose to take sips
but your poison was sweet
Bitterly addictive; but its true
It was an honour to have my heart broken by the likes of you
they asked me what drug i take and i say none but the moment they ask me what i crave i tell them that i miss his touch and thats what i crave and that i miss his lips and thats what i crave. I yearn to hear his voice again, to tell me things that no one else hears, i yearn to hear him ask me, what is on my mind. He used to ask me before but all i could muster up for an answer was "nothing" even though he was all that was on my mind. He was the only one who knew me, not just the external fake smiles. He knew me deeper than that, he knew how my mind worked and how i felt everytime i broke.
For that i am eternally grateful because nobody else could give me that.
Aren't we all trying to find a solution, to reality? The dragging problems of our own worlds?
If i get this guy
If i get this girl
If he likes me back
If she gets into bed with me
If he falls in love like i do
If she does what i want over and over again
Isn’t there always some kind of condition to contentment? Isn’t it always placed in the future, wrapped up in some object, either physical or ideological? I know for me it is and as an addict that always leads me to excess and then to trouble. Do you feel like that? Are you looking for something? It’s not just me, is it? Do you sometimes feel afraid, self-conscious, lonely, not good enough? I mean, you’re reading this, so you must want to change something. Don’t leave me out on a limb, all vulnerable and exposed.
you are your own complete universe
full of your own complex galaxies
just scattered stars
all over my brain
leaving your complicated mess
for me to sort through
and there is only one way i can
through those tears burning down my face
and those deep cuts in my arms
screaming internally for help i'll never recieve
and all because once
just once
you told me you loved me
and you didnt
you said you missed me
and you didnt
you used me and left me
i guess thats what they call
"Used and Abused"
but it was you i loved
and it was you i wont forget
Aren’t we all, in one way or another, trying to find a solution to the problem of reality? If I get this job, this girl, this guy, these shoes. If I pass this exam, eat this pizza, drink this booze, go on this holiday. Learn karate, learn yoga. If West Ham stay up, if I get more likes on Facebook, more fancy cookbooks, a better kitchen. Isn’t there always some kind of condition to contentment? Isn’t it always placed in the future, wrapped up in some object, either physical or ideological? I know for me it is and as an addict that always leads me to excess and then to trouble. Do you feel like that? Are you looking for something? It’s not just me, is it? Do you sometimes feel afraid, self-conscious, lonely, not good enough? I mean, you’re reading this, so you must want to change something. Don’t leave me out on a limb, all vulnerable and exposed.
I have the deepest affection for "DMC's" or just general intellectual converstions
The ability to just sit and talk
About love, about life, about anything and everything under the sun and the stars
To sit under the moon with all the time in the world
The high speed train that is our lives slowing to a crawl
Bound to no obligations, barred by no human limitations
To speak without regret, without fear of consequence
To talk for hours on end, about the most important things on our mind
These mindless conversations are what make me love you
WONDERWALL
Someone you find yourself thinking about all the damn time. The person you are completely infatuated with.
If you look at her closely
You can see that
Every now and then
She turns away from her group of friends
Her smile falters
And she becomes another person for a few seconds
A sad person
A person who is broken and damaged
And after a few depressing seconds
She goes back to the group
Smiling and joking around
She almost looks like she's actually happy
But if you look at her closely
You can see how put on her smile really is
And you can see the wreckage behind her
the red symbolises the blood on the wall
After i slit his fucking throat open
' What was it like to lose him ? ' asked Sorrow
There was a long lause before i replied
' It was like hearing all the goodbyes ever said to me over 17 years - said all at once
Inflect the somber sky
The ethereal odalisques
Are divulged - privacy at risk
When they reach those eyes
Known for ogling
The x-rated flies around them become
Files archived in the dark
And the hidden layers of truth
Are just scratching at the lunar system
Pushing it out of its comfort zone
Hence a new metaphysics
Will be born
Here's the first lesson i learned: people are not born crazy. We have all been victims of this harsh reality one way or another, whether that incident is small or great. Understanding the mind of the mentally ill makes you appreciate the little things, things you can easily take for granted in this reality. Waking up, making breakfast, reading the paper, going for a morning jog. These people cannot do that. In fact, even though they may not look it, they are more in need of someone helping them through the day than that of someone physically disabled.
The mentally ill comes across to people in all sorts of ways; it could be the girl laughing in a group of friends when inside she is questioning everything around her, and why things happen when they do, and whther she does deserve anything worthwhile. Its the boy who is at home, working hard on his coursework, stays quietly to himself and on weekends works to earn his own money. He thinks about the girl he lost, he thinks about why he is here.
We, as teenagers,unfortunately,all suffer from a mental illness, , its whether we can help each other to evolve into understanding the illness, only then and only then can we begin to pick up our lives.
