Friday, April 15, 2005
some days are easier than others.
some days are harder than others.
some days require a few extra tears
and a few extra deep breaths.
some days require a few extra smiles
and a few extra jumps for joy.
some days need a couple extra friends.
some days one special friend is enough.
some days are easier than others.
some days are harder than others.
some days are cloudier than others.
some days have an extra ray of sunshine.
some days are made just for me.
some days were made just to spite me.
some days fly on the wings of eagles.
some days crawl in the tracks of garden snails.
some days are easier than others.
some days are harder than others.
some nights i can't sleep.
some days i can't wake up.
some days i remember to pray.
some days i forget to be grateful.
some days i know who i am.
some days i lose touch with myself.
some days are easier than others.
some days are harder than others.
some days it's easier to love.
some days it's easier to hate.
some days it's easier to care.
some days it's easier to feel nothing.
some days it's easier to live.
some days it's harder to breathe.
some days are easier than others.
some days are harder than others.
and life goes on.
02:37 am GMT+1 by her highness the philosophizer
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Tuesday, January 18, 2005
i haven't written anything
for so long.
it's not that i don't have
something to write
it's more that i'm afraid
once i break down and write one thing
all of my pretty little walls i've built
will come tumbling down
and i'll cry
again
and i'll hurt
again
because there's too much
that already makes me hurt and cry
too much
i try to shove onto a back shelf
my motto should be 'ignoring it is bliss'
and yet
all ignoring it seems to get me
are tears later
instead of now
but it's so hard to live
in a state of constant frustration
with who i am,
where i am
what i am doing
where i am going
and there's not enough trust
no matter how much
i argue with myself
and know that,
at least before,
it has always turned out ok in the end.
i just
don't trust
and i don't want
to cry
06:23 pm GMT+1 by her highness the philosophizer
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Monday, September 27, 2004
confused sad and slow
to speak is too much...nothing
to feel so empathetic
to think lies deep inside me
senseless wordless helpless
to ask seems self-defeating
to converse is meaningless
to live i don't understand anymore
how
where is the sense?
what is the sense?
why am i senselessly born?
and why do i wordlessly die?
i live helpless
i grow sad
i love slowly
i lose my balance
you speak to me slowly
you love me quickly
how
why
where is the sense?
what is the purpose?
why am i senselessly loved?
and why do i wordlessly fall in love?
i am not helpless anymore
i am senseless evermore
but speak to me slowly
and while you slowly speak
i understand the reason
and feel deeply
wordless profound silent
original text
verwirrt traurig und langsam
zu sprechen ist viel zu...nichts
zu fuehlen so einfuelhsam
zu denken liegt in mir tief
sinnlos wortlos hilflos
zu fragen ist mir selbst widerlegend
zu reden ist inhaltslos
zu leben verstehe ich nicht mehr
wie
wo ist der sinn?
was ist der sinn?
warum bin ich sinnlos geboren?
und warum bin ich wortlos gestorben?
ich lebe hilflos
ich werde traurig
ich liebe langsam
ich werde unbestaendig
du redest mir langsam
du liebst mich schnell
wie
warum
wo ist der sinn?
was ist das ziel?
warum werde ich sinnlos geliebt?
und warum werde ich wortlos verliebt?
hilflos bin ich nicht mehr
sinnlos bin ich immer noch
aber rede mir langsam
und waehrend du langsam redest
verstehe ich den sinn
und fuehle ich mich tief
wortlos profund still
12:36 am GMT+1 by her highness the philosophizer
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frustrated when i can't speak
and frustrated when i do
frustrated when i can't weep
and frustrated with you
frustrated because i know you love me
but still feel all alone
frustrated for doubting you'd be
here and thinking you're gone
frustrated because i can't sleep
can't get it out of my head
frustrated that i keep
beating this horse when it's dead
frustrated for trying to pull
water straight from a stone
frustrated that my faith is null
though i hear the tone
why can't i believe?
why can't i see?
what steals my faith like a thief
and won't just let me be?
i know you can't always speak
even when you want to
i know i can't keep
life on hold for you
i know my love is deep
and yet it's so frustrating
when with faith and trust i leap
and finally close my eyes in sleep.
12:22 am GMT+1 by her highness the philosophizer
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Friday, September 17, 2004
Somewhere along my heart's assembly line
One of the workers is moving too slow
'No, not I!' Worker 5 exclaims
As headless armless bodies roll of the line
Because he can't keep up
Upon further investigation,
Worker 1 is working too fast
Headless armless bodies too fast to process
Worker 6 has to paint the eyes and mouths
Worker 7 has hair
But each body has a death or a life
A unique drama, even when incomplete
And now headless lives and deaths
Are flying off the conveyor belt
And I'm scrambling to collect the bodies
And the legs and arms and hands
Worker 5 smiles encouragingly
But I can't keep up, and now the bodies
Have two heads or three arms
And I shriek in frustration
The bodies don't even have eyes and mouths yet
They're still bald
And my heart aches as it fills and overfills
With lives and deaths and limbless expressionless bodies
Worker 1 is working too fast
And Worker 5 smiles encouragingly
While I run frantically
And 6 and 7 sit waiting expectantly
12:37 pm GMT+1 by her highness the philosophizer
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Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Eleanor Roosevelt said,
"No one can make you feel inferior
Without your consent."
So why do I let you push me around?
I know I'm not inferior
I'm not a disappointment
I have no obligations so you
And somehow you still make me feel bad
For taking the time to care
I'm not the berber carpet
Under your slippers
I'm not the well-trodden path
From couch to fridge
I'm not your dog and I'm not your toaster
I don't warm on command
I can't stay as long as you want
I can't prepare your food
I'm not your old underwear
I'm not the sun in summer
I have my own life
I care about you, but you hurt me
Too many times
I have my own life
So I'm the black sheep
I have my own life
And you can't understand that
I have my own life
You may have my number and email, but
I have my own life
I can't come at your beck and call
I have my own life
Why do you resent that?
So I'll tell you one last time:
I care about you now
But I can't care about you anymore
Because I have my own life
And you won't let me live it
I promise I'll pray for you
I'll have empathy
But now I have to live my life
And I can't feel bad about it.
12:22 pm GMT+1 by her highness the philosophizer
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