Writer’s block

You look so good in the clothes of a poser
And when you smiled all the kids fell apart here
I know a place where it’s warm and it’s dry, dear
Let me take you there.

North of the river all the streets are the same. We can pretend that they don’t know our name. And the heat is turned all the way to full. So, don’t pretend that you don’t feel the pull.

I am trying to say

What I want to say

Without having to say . . .

You look so good in the shoes of an outcast. I kissed your throat every time they said it wouldn’t last.
But then I knew you, I knew you, I knew you.
I really knew you.

We fell apart in the parties of the empty heart
We danced the junkies in the shadows of bad modern art
We clicked our heels and we wished we were home
One more tab and your silk hits the chrome

I am trying to say

What I want to say

Without having to say . . .

Springs comes in when I’m rolling up another one. I draw the curtains in the glare of the same old sun.
We are collapsed in the act of just being here
Three blues, two greens and a beer.

I am trying to say

What I want to say

Without having to say

I

L

O

V

E

E

V

O

L

YOU.

Everyone’s got their chains to break.

Thinking too much is bad for the heart. Worse than super size me or being force-fed with pure fat & oil since birth.

I’m a thinker, more than I am a talker (imagine that!). That’s what I do. Even if I consciously will my brain to just shut off – it won’t. I don’t have power over it. I don’t have power over how I feel. And being this way, the pseudo-“writer” I supposedly am, I feel everything twice or thrice more than any normal person. Didn’t choose to be this way, but heck I am. And I’ve accepted that.

I’m alive when I think, reflect, contemplate, etc. But in rare moments of thoughtlessness, I am genuinely happy.

Weird.

..life goes easy on me. most of the time. Indeed. Still, I wonder if life could ever be just a tad easier. Or less harder than it usually is. Even in the most mundane forms like smoother traffic, less pollution, clearer skies… A big comfy bear hug from the person you miss the most would be nice. Solved na’ko dun.

I pray for everyone else who obviously has more weight on their shoulders than I could ever muster to carry.

Heartache is more than just a state of mind. Because it literally hurts, promise. Poor beat-up thing.

***

Damn forks in the road. Always out of sync with time, with the willingness to choose. How to separate a need from a want. A dream is a dream. And I’ve always been a realistic dreamer. What to do when a dream comes a knockin’ yet again. Shall I kiss my current reality/security goodbye to pursue such an evasive fancy and make it stay or make myself be kept by it, a part of it.. forever? Or til I’m no longer in need of it. No longer at the mercy of its long-term desirability. I’m enslaved by my passions, and I can only move so much. Can’t i just wake up in some alternate universe where I’m no longer such a puppet on strings…

I’m scared to wake up one day, living the dream, and realizing that the glass has been empty all along.

But what scares me more than this is letting the cup pass me by without drinking from it.

***

Time moves in such a way that when it’s steady, it drags on.

And when it flies, it sweeps you off your feet.

Soar or fall. What’s the diff?

I’m in a daze of constant change and rapidly passing moments.
A tiny insignificant wave caught up in the ethereal sea of fortuity.
Forever in the eye of Fate’s folly.

A free spirit always a free spirit.

Yeah right.

Commitment gives me the heebie jeebies. Scared to fail?

Or to succeed? That is the question.