I missed the chance to open up to you.
I was always sorry for that.
Thinking people would miss out on me
When it was me missing out on people
The two paced push
The intimate feelings
Like a revolver, it's spinning chamber no longer a threat or fear
Instead an exciting dance and I wish you would dance
With me
For me
I would watch
I would touch
I would move so differently
I would breathe
- sleeps
There's things in this world
That can't be found
That can't be found again
Whether lost or taken from us. I don't know which. Or if it matters.
But nothing hurts more than shame.
It's like losing a piece of yourself
Who you were or at least who you wanted to be.
Or maybe shame is a reminder of who we really are so the feeling is the disappointment of not being able to grow or forget
So how to release the beast or instead laugh at the joke of it all
That's the dance. That's the human condition.
Or maybe there's no condition, we're just board and have nothing meaningful to do instead.
- sleeps
What sort of music do you like?
A certain type or any kind, as long as they're 'good'? As long as you can dance with? Sing with? Cry with? Fall asleep with?
Ever started with one then went on to 'more like this'?
You may find new ones you like and some you don't, but even those you don't, if you listen properly and maybe even ask yourself why you don't like, you may start to see things you do. A skill, an emotion, a thought, a belief. May begin to like what you previously didn't and realise what you 'didn't like' were actually assumptions and judgements you imposed on yourself. Sometimes because of things you've heard or friends who told us what they thought.
(Interesting to see how much of our interests, passions, fetishes, beliefs are influenced and suppressed by others, by assumptions, by ego, by fear.)
Go out and listen to those you may not have before. To places that have what you usually would not.
May have guessed i wasn't taking about music, I was taking about people.
People not genres.
- sleeps
Why waste time with patience?
I wonder who will read the words a thousand years from now
If AI would debate or try analyse or understand these snippets
These snippets of abstract non sense, the only act which eases the soul for whatever that is... And for whatever that means or for whatever it's worth
Here I am in an indifferent universe
For whatever I am
For whatever I am not
Stretching out as the stars are
Buring my composition.
... Until I pass.
And who shall pass me?
Who shall see me in these words?
Or simply see themselves
The all seeing solipsist
My friend or myself
Fade to black laughing
- sleeps
Thank you all so much for being a part of the time and experience of my life
I've had so many fantastic, special and unique moments it would be impossible to find the time to recall them all nor would I do then justice with words so I shall simply honour them with quiet reflection
If I had chosen to stay alive I'm certain I would have met more amazing people and had more moments to cherish
It must be made know there is no specific reason for my suicide, I simply found myself a little bored one day and was interested in experiencing death
No philosophical musing or despair
No statement or rebellion
Simply one choice made over another
- sleeps
When I had proposed to her, I felt like many men had done when proposing to their other half...
A deep and profound feeling of... Regret
Like, what am I doing? Or more accurately, why am I doing this?
From that moment on my partner and I began to argue. Something we'd never really done before. Not like this. Not big, just little things, stupid things
I suppose every little thing becomes a big deal when 'forever' is at stake, which then put puts 'forever' at stake.
What makes a good partner an equally good wife?
The term alone sounds absurd to me.
But then so is life itself, so suppose this, much like all else, is simply a choice
Retrospect says time can be replaced by memory
Science says time can be replaced by distance
With the world being so emotionally clumsy
It's hard to trust your heart in anyone's hands
An icey lake is difficult to imagine when your back is burning from embarrassment
But there we stood calmly breathing cool air watching the mountains as if they were expected to do something
Maps couldn't guide us through these emotions even with data, so we flutter and hide.
Like the game the universe plays with itself, from the smallest of sparks we will simply set goals, rules, wins and losses arbitrarily
And to all those sparks lost or ignored... We reminisce and tell ourselves stories. Whether fairy tale or tradegy depends on our mood.
So we create objects and life to perhaps then set its fait to be destroyed
But at least the moment held something... however arbtrary and subjective.
- sleeps
Building lights are like teeth as the city grins at night. Almost like it knows what's in store if I were to let one drink turn into many and a conversation turn into a shouting match. So there she stood ready to challenge my wit with no clue how to... Like blood in the water to me as I'm a shark when it comes to this. I tell her to live large before the city begins to frown and pay respects to the demons as these teeth can turn sharp if you're not careful. It was a dangerous circus until she realised nothing was as serious as she first thought, and at first thought she'd never had thought the last thought would feel so calming despite the tired aching body slowly making its way home.
- sleeps
I still check my hair before I see you
Still conscious of my crooked smile when talking with you
Still notice you noticing me
And still untrusting of the way you play with your hair
With baby steps you ask what I'm doing later
But your pride is a predator, which slowly corners you when we're apart
I still check my hair before I see you
But less so reply to dead end messages
(As I can now recognise those sent from the predator)
- Sleeps
The day I renounced love, I began to finally feel it.
You see, Disney fairy tales and love songs betrayed me
As beautiful and emotionally engaging they were, they ultimately led me to an unrealistic expectation of how and what I 'should' be feeling
For years I thought I was either a robot or extremely unlucky to not be able to feel what they felt.
Only ever being able to relate to songs and movies of loss and sorrow.
An alien to words and feelings described, I saw love as a transaction. A wall too hide behind for the faint and confused.
With the world being so emotionally clumsy
It's hard to trust your heart in anyone's hands.
So we guard our hearts instead of using them.
I found 'love' doesn't hurt, our ego do.
- sleeps
