.The storm clouds are my pillows and I drive to the heart of them, wrapped in lightning and rainThe mountains offer me sleep, quiet, dark, and their dim music beats on my ears like the drums of the distant pastAnd as I blink in and out I let my face hit the window, singing along and forgetting how to hurt for a minute (maybe an eon)The rumbles of the thunder above and beneath me are clean and comfort, blankets in clouds and the miles rolling bySleep descends and I am not safe, but sheltered through Kansas and Boston, through the journey and the rush of the raindrops a hair's breadth from my eyes
PSATo whoever reads these words, remember them. Read them silently, read them aloud, repeat them until you can see them permanently burned into the backs of your eyelids and they become your mantra:There is always hope.In the worst places and the darkest times, there is still hope. No storm cloud on the planet is immune to stars or sunlight peeking through. Every cave has an exit, every night gives way to daybreak, and every demon can be beaten down.As the roaring wildfire must always give way to the gentle rain, so too does despair inevitably sputter and die in the face of hope. Until its cataclysmic dying day, this world will always contain hope. As long as you are alive, there is hope aplenty for tomorrow and all the days after it.Do not forget my words. Do not ignore them, laugh them bitterly away, or let your fear overcome them. I speak of a simple truth that should never be forgotten.The one thing all our heroes have in common is that when everything falls apart and the world s
SpentThe silence reverberates in four part timeWhen you realize you're all aloneAnd the snow falls about you to blanket the soundOf you choking upon your own throatIt's over, it's finished; you're spent and betrayedYou just want to lie down, get some restSo you curl up your body like dead spider legsAnd the gentle snow takes you to sleep.
CoinsGolden leaves float to the water's surface, coins for the dead.May they find safe passage to the worlds beyond.
SharptongueSharp tongue,burning wit,speak the piercing truth.Wound with words and deadly gaze -unstoppable, uncouth.Forgotten skeletons laid bare,shot with vicious voice;fire in the soul and heartto cut down needless noise.
MidwinterChill in the midwinter air,dark is the night skyHeavy clouds above reflectthe fire in your eyesTread across the icy groundas North Wind softly sighsGiant's bones will hide youin the mountain's sheltered lie
-In the endless tranquil forest,Hidden by the shadows beneath the leaves,I smile; at peace with the world,As your corpse smiles back at me...
A Chance?A Chance?If noone gives you a chance for a long time,then when you are finally given one,most of the times, you gonna fail.And you'll ask for a second one,but you don't deserve it,because out there there are many like youstill awaiting the first one.Do You?Don't Ask For A Chance, Demand What You Need.
The End of the WorldI didn't prepare for the end of the world.I somehow thought that we, reclusive in a hardened bubble-shell, would survive it.I didn't brace for impact, I didn't even consider it happening to us. Why would I?I didn't prepare rations, bedding or bunkers.It didn't occur to me to imagine a post-apocalyptic world in which our love wasn't enough.I didn't see it coming. It destroyed me nonetheless.The end of the world doesn't care for your readiness.
AnimusIf I couldI would vomit my soulAnd let it chain itselfTo my speech Like a parasite.I would let it Become my puppet master,And let it sway my armsIn directionsI never thoughtI would.Instead, I've kept my soulTrapped in a cageAnd watched itTry to biteIt's way to freedom.
Mia Efkeria?Μια Ευκαιρία;Αν κανείς δε σου δίνει μια ευκαιρία για πολύ καιρό,τότε όταν τελικά κάποιος σου δώσει μία,το πιο πιθανό είναι να αποτύχεις.Και θα ζητήσεις μια δεύτερη ευκαιρία,αλλά δεν την αξίζεις,
ForeverYou asked mehow far I would gofor you but you never tookinto considerationthat the earth is round soI’ll end uprepeating myself.
-the stars shineso brightlyin those brown eyes(they're terribly empty, aren't they?)and i knowthat every dayis a struggle(i'm sorry i can't help you)because youhave been sob r o k e n(and no matter what i do, nothing can fix you)but the emptinessin those eyesseems to fade(and life flickers in those brown hues)so i'll climbevery mountain topfor you(just so you can see all the stars in the universe)
UnitedSo far awayBut so close anywayGoing separate waysBut connected, alwaysUnited our hearts areTrue friendship Is our treasureEven when afarOur bonds are unbreakableOur secrets we shareFor each other we standEverytime and everywhere
cognitive dissonanceto: the eater of gods thoughts memories,you are not a writer.you are a consumer, whichis ironic, since you do what you dofor the consumptionof the masses. sometimes.either thator the consumption of yourself. to: the small-minded one, the one who glamorises romanticises tragedy,you are not a writer.at least, not by your own definition.you are a professional liar, an angrysadseabird stealing food/dreams/thoughtthe only title you can lay claim tois thief.to: some combination of twenty-six letters some paper person some notebook child,you are not a writer.y
little thingsglint of eyes,sound in the epiglottis,a fidgeting footand lips twitchingdemarcations and denotations of meaningrhythms and complexities, playingmommy and daddy make babiesbut the little things make life.