thecakeisalie
06-01-2009, 03:31 PM
i have a collection of these sort of things, i am just posting a few to see what people think on them. most of them are personal and i wrote when i was depressed. I am not very good, not many years of experience, still in school but i thought id share them. Cliff is my favourite. Enjoy
Laughter
It takes hold of us shredding happiness even over the most trivial items, it holds us high in the world as it gives us power to make someone change their face whatever situation they are in. A vacation from reality as it clutches tight to us forcing a chuckle or two on our part. But the real truth the lies behind the laughter of the world is the fact that the last laugh is always left bitter to the tongue.
Love?
When the occurance of such a thing takes hold of someone the sound of reason and light that speaks few words of real truth are locked away into the abyss of the mind. It takes hold of the victim forever drowning them in smitten thoughts, greed and obbession that cannot be lost. Let us not forget that sometimes once in a million of the pitiful relations strengthens us through quarrels and state, but it always comes back to a single unavoidable circumstance in which the end takes hold snatching everything away that once was held close. Leaving the victim alone and once again searching for the next suffering to undertake...
Cliff
Time to breathe thinks the man standing on his own. Time left to live, he says, that shouldn't be spent muttering cursing of existance and fate. He does not understand many things. Why it would take hold of him and strip him of dignity and leave him only filled with sorrow and hate, in a position of opptunity yet baffled as how to grasp what clings to the moist air around him. He breathes again, inhaling the deep gush of wind from the sea breeze, letting it wash over him. It would have relaxed him had he not been feeling nothing anywhere. The breeze comes again, coming hard and strong, whipping him now. He takes a minute to comprehend events, details, words and comes a final conclusion. Thinking the feeling of hurt is too great, and the feeling of nothing would be welcomed.
The cliff is steep.
So he turns to walk away seeing a blinding ray of light that has washed over him, only to realise that he took too long with the decision and feels the sea breeze relaxing him completely.
Beginning, End, Death.
And so the beginning of the end comes. It comes without fear, morals or boundaries. It comes with the sole purpose to destroy creation. Let us not forget that it is a part of existance, part of life to be, a happening of this world that we cannot avoid, a disease we cannot cure. In our life, we see pairs, opposites of attraction pulling apart seams of normality, tearing up the common "normal" view. If you knew your fate, the consequence of action, would you choose to avoid it or simply let it come to pass how it has been fortold. Death clock always ticks. How can man, with all his intellect for reasoning and logic, answer what is life, when he himself does not understand death? Of course logic of man dictates we start at the beginning work towards the end. He cannot explain, until he steos tenderly over the line, holding Death's hand without fear or struggle and learns to see it as it is. The unknown fate and finality of death always lingers - an unspoken stranger of which we don't welcome into the comforted happiness of life.
Alone?
Who can say this feeling to One. One. By One's self, by yourself. How can such a absence of company depart such happiness from a mind. Closure of thoughts onto One's self, criticise, torment, frustrate. When surrounded by nothing, who can One turn to when all that One was now lies broken at the bottom of his mind. One can stand in crowd yet feel the emptiness of grave stone, memories of joy that fade away into the chaos surrounding why. One can walk amoungst the living yet feel not truly alive. Appreciated by whom? For what quality? Surely not for his heart, which he wears tucked under his sleeve, hoping that One will notice and perhaps source the ignorance held behind closed connections. One can fall. But One can't pick himself up...
Guilt
When such a feeling rests upon the shoulders of the dammed you must remember it was not your fault. That by doing your action did not result in the consequence that left you without friend nor foe. Just think that by leaving such a mark you have indeed scarred someone, but don't worry - scars don't fade, memories do. And when you look onto the Why, you can only pray that someone will forgive you, that the one you left behind can bring an forced apology unto your hoping face to finally rest that dieing conscious of yours. Sleep peacefully now. Guilt.
Laughter
It takes hold of us shredding happiness even over the most trivial items, it holds us high in the world as it gives us power to make someone change their face whatever situation they are in. A vacation from reality as it clutches tight to us forcing a chuckle or two on our part. But the real truth the lies behind the laughter of the world is the fact that the last laugh is always left bitter to the tongue.
Love?
When the occurance of such a thing takes hold of someone the sound of reason and light that speaks few words of real truth are locked away into the abyss of the mind. It takes hold of the victim forever drowning them in smitten thoughts, greed and obbession that cannot be lost. Let us not forget that sometimes once in a million of the pitiful relations strengthens us through quarrels and state, but it always comes back to a single unavoidable circumstance in which the end takes hold snatching everything away that once was held close. Leaving the victim alone and once again searching for the next suffering to undertake...
Cliff
Time to breathe thinks the man standing on his own. Time left to live, he says, that shouldn't be spent muttering cursing of existance and fate. He does not understand many things. Why it would take hold of him and strip him of dignity and leave him only filled with sorrow and hate, in a position of opptunity yet baffled as how to grasp what clings to the moist air around him. He breathes again, inhaling the deep gush of wind from the sea breeze, letting it wash over him. It would have relaxed him had he not been feeling nothing anywhere. The breeze comes again, coming hard and strong, whipping him now. He takes a minute to comprehend events, details, words and comes a final conclusion. Thinking the feeling of hurt is too great, and the feeling of nothing would be welcomed.
The cliff is steep.
So he turns to walk away seeing a blinding ray of light that has washed over him, only to realise that he took too long with the decision and feels the sea breeze relaxing him completely.
Beginning, End, Death.
And so the beginning of the end comes. It comes without fear, morals or boundaries. It comes with the sole purpose to destroy creation. Let us not forget that it is a part of existance, part of life to be, a happening of this world that we cannot avoid, a disease we cannot cure. In our life, we see pairs, opposites of attraction pulling apart seams of normality, tearing up the common "normal" view. If you knew your fate, the consequence of action, would you choose to avoid it or simply let it come to pass how it has been fortold. Death clock always ticks. How can man, with all his intellect for reasoning and logic, answer what is life, when he himself does not understand death? Of course logic of man dictates we start at the beginning work towards the end. He cannot explain, until he steos tenderly over the line, holding Death's hand without fear or struggle and learns to see it as it is. The unknown fate and finality of death always lingers - an unspoken stranger of which we don't welcome into the comforted happiness of life.
Alone?
Who can say this feeling to One. One. By One's self, by yourself. How can such a absence of company depart such happiness from a mind. Closure of thoughts onto One's self, criticise, torment, frustrate. When surrounded by nothing, who can One turn to when all that One was now lies broken at the bottom of his mind. One can stand in crowd yet feel the emptiness of grave stone, memories of joy that fade away into the chaos surrounding why. One can walk amoungst the living yet feel not truly alive. Appreciated by whom? For what quality? Surely not for his heart, which he wears tucked under his sleeve, hoping that One will notice and perhaps source the ignorance held behind closed connections. One can fall. But One can't pick himself up...
Guilt
When such a feeling rests upon the shoulders of the dammed you must remember it was not your fault. That by doing your action did not result in the consequence that left you without friend nor foe. Just think that by leaving such a mark you have indeed scarred someone, but don't worry - scars don't fade, memories do. And when you look onto the Why, you can only pray that someone will forgive you, that the one you left behind can bring an forced apology unto your hoping face to finally rest that dieing conscious of yours. Sleep peacefully now. Guilt.