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IT´s so nice to know all the people i know. I guess being here must add up as a whole.
existance - resistance between living souls, we capture each moment in trying to know
how frost are those people and what they love so.
Each word that we share is like ice melting down, and when we say nothing and then stare at the ground, the silence we live in, the friendships we have, its nice and important, it does make me glad that sharing is lovely and friendship and loss are things that we charish, we stumble across.
So simple, uncertain and beautiful too, the people in life are the people we choose. So if there are others, i don´t really know, i´m waiting to see for each moment to show.
So nice to know all of the people i know, they show me what life is and how it could go.
and capture each moment and make it to time, inspire each other and crawl up my spine. They´re there cause i know them, i keep them a part, and though there is distance they stay in my heart.
The diffrence between me and people you know, is while i am waiting, occassions will flow, and while i am watching to see through the good, remind myself that things will be just as they should,
the wheel keeps on turning and then it moves on and keeps me here wishing for love to keep on
But it makes me certain and it makes me sad, and it makes me move on and doubt what i have. T! it makes me sputter and it makes me shout and it it makes me human, yes without a doubt. We all hope we´re lucky, we all hope we´ll win, i guess that in meanings our meaning begins.
So it´s nice to know all the people i know. In happiness life is just one great big show.
6.10.07
Sonntag, 9. Dezember 2007
Sonntag, 2. Dezember 2007
Tastes that i know of
Flavoured by the size of things by lemongrass and green
tainted by the sounds of music carried overseas
melodies are everywhere i hussle towards the crowd
back to the uncertainty sometimes it can be loud
whistling the question asked, trying hard to run
realising nothing lasts, chewing chewing gum.
Popping sound of bubblegum it twiddles in my ear
bouncy beats and long black boots i see them everywhere
can you remember the sweet humming cry
of all the uncountable things?
of the shadow on its honeymoon of the notion
of the ocean of the sounds of those few waves
we used to watch the airplanes there so high above the sky
the sounds we were familiar with the sounds of cherry pie.
the bakery would bake its bread and sometimes it would pop!
and it sounded like the world would stop.
but then it just carried on.
So shut your ears its way to loud for most the things we like,
the quiet birds the settled hum of wind run over gras,
the willow and the crickets chirpe i wonder what they ask
i wonder if they know it too, the love been taken back.
i tasted love the sweetest thing the taste is pure and sweet
i rarely know which way to go, i can´t stay in my seat.
have you recollected all the sadness in your head?
did you listen to the voices there
and hear what has been said.
I know that there is wrong and right
i know there is a tune
i´ve heard the humble softend sighs
i hear the silence through,
the mumbleing jumbeling straight forward walking,
talking and talking and talking and talking.
Forget the things you knew before
the taste of juice and wine
the diffrent things you hear and learn the water in the pond.
Flickerings and flutterings, the butterflys are often
the only wings that make a sound
and keep our hearts from stoping.
snip snap tip tap, booggle woogle waterslides
childrens games and things we like to keep from realising,
that things in time and things in tune are much alike for sure
that big red smiles and moondshine lights are absolutely pure.
but as we taste them afterall we know that we are hiding
the beauty of the taste itself, we stop it from surviving.
06.09.2007
tainted by the sounds of music carried overseas
melodies are everywhere i hussle towards the crowd
back to the uncertainty sometimes it can be loud
whistling the question asked, trying hard to run
realising nothing lasts, chewing chewing gum.
Popping sound of bubblegum it twiddles in my ear
bouncy beats and long black boots i see them everywhere
can you remember the sweet humming cry
of all the uncountable things?
of the shadow on its honeymoon of the notion
of the ocean of the sounds of those few waves
we used to watch the airplanes there so high above the sky
the sounds we were familiar with the sounds of cherry pie.
the bakery would bake its bread and sometimes it would pop!
and it sounded like the world would stop.
but then it just carried on.
So shut your ears its way to loud for most the things we like,
the quiet birds the settled hum of wind run over gras,
the willow and the crickets chirpe i wonder what they ask
i wonder if they know it too, the love been taken back.
i tasted love the sweetest thing the taste is pure and sweet
i rarely know which way to go, i can´t stay in my seat.
have you recollected all the sadness in your head?
did you listen to the voices there
and hear what has been said.
I know that there is wrong and right
i know there is a tune
i´ve heard the humble softend sighs
i hear the silence through,
the mumbleing jumbeling straight forward walking,
talking and talking and talking and talking.
Forget the things you knew before
the taste of juice and wine
the diffrent things you hear and learn the water in the pond.
Flickerings and flutterings, the butterflys are often
the only wings that make a sound
and keep our hearts from stoping.
snip snap tip tap, booggle woogle waterslides
childrens games and things we like to keep from realising,
that things in time and things in tune are much alike for sure
that big red smiles and moondshine lights are absolutely pure.
but as we taste them afterall we know that we are hiding
the beauty of the taste itself, we stop it from surviving.
06.09.2007
Samstag, 1. Dezember 2007
Walking out that door again
Can you hear my feet, you know they shuffle towards the doorway
as i climb the stairs back down i wonder where it all goes
fantasy is not the thing i´m looking for to seek
nothing makes me feel like this, a button on repeat
50 something seconds till i walk right out the door
wondering what i had done, what i had done before
in this moment somethings missing something i´d fogotten
just to see where it would go i try it more then often,
to try as hard as i can try, maybe i´ve been mistaken
and i don´t really try at all i wonder if its faking
in the hallway i can hear that i missed out on sharing
that i should go back straight away and see if i do care.
in this paper written trail i wonder how my day has been
has it been more generous or maybe just as lazy
as the days i had before, before i stepped into this door
opening a path i´d known was there but hadnt seen
50 seconds longer and it still wouldnt have been at all
the path that i had seeked to walk
i came here with intensions lost
Can you hear my feet as they make music on the staircase
did you find intentions weak and see what you could see
i am sure that in a way you hadnt planned your day this way
you hadn´t thought of what could be, which day you meant for it to be
i hadnt planned my day at all
i hadn´t thought of what to do
i hadn´t thought that i could stand another day this way with you
but so much can be done
for fun
not only for myself
not only for you
but for making it through
another day so sullenly and utterly forgotten
it´s passed my mind no thought behind what happened on this day
i walk away i walk away, the stairs the hold my shadow gray
and tell me that the time i used was time was fine was in my mind
is on my side
i knew that moment that i fell those stairs right up ontop of you
that nothing nowhere ever could be anything this easy
as walking out that door again and smiling to myself
i love the way i walk each day, i walk right out the doorway
i like the way each time i feel so diffrently aroused.
50 something seconds till i recognise the reason
why i make this day this way and what i try to do
sharing time and sharing space and sharing an emotion
at a simple low key pace, we charish it for time
and time is 50 something seconds not anything that useful
we havent learned to read our minds and wonder what to do.
We havent learned that closest to the closest thing that we´ll come to
is just as near as we can be, is closest to the new.
22.10.07
as i climb the stairs back down i wonder where it all goes
fantasy is not the thing i´m looking for to seek
nothing makes me feel like this, a button on repeat
50 something seconds till i walk right out the door
wondering what i had done, what i had done before
in this moment somethings missing something i´d fogotten
just to see where it would go i try it more then often,
to try as hard as i can try, maybe i´ve been mistaken
and i don´t really try at all i wonder if its faking
in the hallway i can hear that i missed out on sharing
that i should go back straight away and see if i do care.
in this paper written trail i wonder how my day has been
has it been more generous or maybe just as lazy
as the days i had before, before i stepped into this door
opening a path i´d known was there but hadnt seen
50 seconds longer and it still wouldnt have been at all
the path that i had seeked to walk
i came here with intensions lost
Can you hear my feet as they make music on the staircase
did you find intentions weak and see what you could see
i am sure that in a way you hadnt planned your day this way
you hadn´t thought of what could be, which day you meant for it to be
i hadnt planned my day at all
i hadn´t thought of what to do
i hadn´t thought that i could stand another day this way with you
but so much can be done
for fun
not only for myself
not only for you
but for making it through
another day so sullenly and utterly forgotten
it´s passed my mind no thought behind what happened on this day
i walk away i walk away, the stairs the hold my shadow gray
and tell me that the time i used was time was fine was in my mind
is on my side
i knew that moment that i fell those stairs right up ontop of you
that nothing nowhere ever could be anything this easy
as walking out that door again and smiling to myself
i love the way i walk each day, i walk right out the doorway
i like the way each time i feel so diffrently aroused.
50 something seconds till i recognise the reason
why i make this day this way and what i try to do
sharing time and sharing space and sharing an emotion
at a simple low key pace, we charish it for time
and time is 50 something seconds not anything that useful
we havent learned to read our minds and wonder what to do.
We havent learned that closest to the closest thing that we´ll come to
is just as near as we can be, is closest to the new.
22.10.07
Montag, 26. November 2007
blog #1
Schreiben tu ich viel.
Dies ist mein erster offizeller, öffentlicher Schrieb.
Da bin ich aber gespannt.
Worüber ich wohl schreibe...
Einen Sinn suchen.
Darin.
Und in allem Anderen.
Dies ist mein erster offizeller, öffentlicher Schrieb.
Da bin ich aber gespannt.
Worüber ich wohl schreibe...
Einen Sinn suchen.
Darin.
Und in allem Anderen.
Abonnieren
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