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.
SoleSearching at 5:10 PM
6 Comments:
My smiling faces, eager pleasantries.. they stand suspended. Soaking in the soulful melodies and grasping at every word like I would otherwise lose them.
I so like the way you put it. ^_^ Music can be a balm, a drug (inducing a languid state), or a wake-up call. I'm curious now bout this song, "Hurt." Hmm. I just might try to find it on the net. Anyway, as regards to your revelation (the fruit of your introspection) stated in the end, ahh, I find myself nodding my head in agreement. ^_^
This entry has much candor and wisdom. Thank you for sharing it.
Read. Thought. Understood? Yes. Thought again. Maybe not. Accepted.
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.
We might just cross each other's paths in a corridor some day, being in the same field and same part of the world. But you won't look like "you" and I won't look like "me" for that is the personna we have created for the real world. A part of our face would always be hidden in our writing.
Lovely post, my friend, and I share every single thought of yours.
Soulless:
Thank you! And I could email you both versions of 'Hurt' if you need :).
Ideasmithy:
Accepted?
Arundhati:
Indeed. We probably have already passed each other somewhere sometime. Glad you share my thoughts!
Ohh so you do have an email address ;) ..can you send me the versions of "Hurt" at rulda21@yahoo.com
No Updates? Hmmph!!!
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