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| silentcriez (profile) wrote, on 1-17-2005 at 1:59pm | |
| i'm just a nomad but would you listen to my story? would you think me crazy if i asked you for some spare change? for a lighter? for a place to stay on the night of the winters first frost? would you walk away from me if i told you i was crazy? what would you say if i told you the key to the world. the key to happiness, if i told you their was a doorway to paradise would you believe me? or would you call me a liar and spit in my face? were all liars in the world today. writing is a form of a lie. writing is a form of expression, its a way of letting out all of the things we wish we could say but never have the courage to. so many people would keep all those thoughts in their heads, but people like me, we have too many thoughts. too many thoughts to keep them all bottled up, if we did theyd overwhelm us, like they do when i debate myself in the quiet of my room. listening to the wind erode my window pane, trying my hardest to get to sleep. deep in this thought is a person searching for reason, for logic in everyday situations. searching for flaws in herself. when really there is no explanation. a person of my circumstances would feel unable to meet the requirements shes set for everyone else in her semipermiable world. shes made it so only those worthy of her presence will reep its benefits. she schemes her way through life analyzing everybody elses flaws, making sure never to make their mistakes. and this writing, this discription of reality so twisted and ever changing like smoke lingering in a stagnant room is her freedom. its her voice, her forte if you will. the release of all the emotions shed secretly wished to expose. but with this writing she can mask whats real, she has no chance to be rejected or thought of as wrong, because this writing is expression. this writing is the slit in her wrist, this writing is the reason she's still alive. its the sweat in her pores and every thought oozing from her intoxicated brain. she can detatch herself from the world when writing of love and lust, and lose herself in a city so perfect, in a relationship which never existed. or she can explain a break up, a fault, a misconseption through the eyes of a girl living in a nowhere town. a nowhere state, a nowhere country. a girl whose place is yet to be found.. yet to be questioned or explored by a single soul. as her words flow easily into your ear drums youll wonder. wonder what makes this girl so troubled, why does she feel she must hide behind these words. i guess theres no real answer. its like asking why a bird sings. its just a natural attraction to the unreal. to the discriptive world, to a place where she doesnt have to be so serious. where things dont have to be so real, or so permanent. her writing is her gift, her pain, her muse, her writing is her spirit which so gently flows in the summers breeze and lands upon a snowy bank, like a nomad, searching for someone to listen. - me Do you ever feel like breaking down? Do you ever feel out of place? Like somehow you just don't belong And no one understands you Do you ever wanna runaway? Do you lock yourself in your room? With the radio on turned up so loud That no one hears you screaming No you don't know what it's like When nothing feels all right You don't know what it's like To be like me To be hurt To feel lost To be left out in the dark To be kicked when you're down To feel like you've been pushed around To be on the edge of breaking down And no one's there to save you No you don't know what it's like Welcome to my life Do you wanna be somebody else? Are you sick of feeling so left out? Are you desperate to find something more? Before your life is over Are you stuck inside a world you hate? Are you sick of everyone around? With their big fake smiles and stupid lies While deep inside you're bleeding No you don't know what it's like When nothing feels all right You don't know what it's like To be like me To be hurt To feel lost To be left out in the dark To be kicked when you're down To feel like you've been pushed around To be on the edge of breaking down And no one's there to save you No you don't know what it's like Welcome to my life No one ever lied straight to your face No one ever stabbed you in the back You might think I'm happy but I'm not gonna be okay Everybody always gave you what you wanted Never had to work it was always there You don't know what it's like, what it's like |
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xSwtLilAngel666x | 01-17-05 2:47pm Your journal is beautiful.
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