Pleasure Of Hurt
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
Sometimes.. words of a stranger strike you with gusto, and give clarity to the thought that has run circles in your own mind ceaselessly like the slender hand of a clock.
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
With every passing line, revealing in its wake a sense of wonderment at how another soul has already trudged through the swamps of quicksand you now tiptoe on.
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
lyrics of hope, love, joy and peace abound in what I hear daily, giving me an occasional smile.. a reason to tap a foot or hum the tune even.
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
And buried in the countless tunes that lap at my ears everyday, an occasional tune rings out, that hushes the din around me.
I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Yes that is me. Not my voice, alas. But that is me. My smiling faces, eager pleasantries.. they stand suspended. Soaking in the soulful melodies and grasping at every word like I would otherwise lose them.
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
With every passing line, revealing in its wake a sense of wonderment at how another soul has already trudged through the swamps of quicksand you now tiptoe on.
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
lyrics of hope, love, joy and peace abound in what I hear daily, giving me an occasional smile.. a reason to tap a foot or hum the tune even.
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
And buried in the countless tunes that lap at my ears everyday, an occasional tune rings out, that hushes the din around me.
I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Yes that is me. Not my voice, alas. But that is me. My smiling faces, eager pleasantries.. they stand suspended. Soaking in the soulful melodies and grasping at every word like I would otherwise lose them.
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here
Yes, I AM still here. The distress, the violence, I take whatever it has to give, and at last, my own face smiles.. a joy unknown to all but me.
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
From the plaintive baritone of Johnny Cash to the ferocious rendering of NIN, I heard, I knew, I understood.
So many aspects of life – human or non human, have egged me on at my worst, and reveled with me at my best. The somber mood through most of my posts do not reflect how I am outside the blogworld, but they have only helped me live the way I do.
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
From the plaintive baritone of Johnny Cash to the ferocious rendering of NIN, I heard, I knew, I understood.
So many aspects of life – human or non human, have egged me on at my worst, and reveled with me at my best. The somber mood through most of my posts do not reflect how I am outside the blogworld, but they have only helped me live the way I do.