a sort of sad song can make me feel so much better?
I want to write. I have lots and lots floating around in my head. Some of it i will get rid of on paper, some I will treasure on paper. But I’m just to tired to lift the pencil, litterally. Writing Ash’s letter today was the extent of my writing today. Guess It’ll just have to stay crammed in my stuffed-up-head-achey-brain for now.
I awoke Only to find my lungs empty And through the night So it seems I’m not breathing And now my dreams are nothing like they were meant to be And I’m breaking down, I think I’m breaking down
And I’m afraid To sleep because of what haunts me Such as living with the uncertainty That I’ll never find the words to say Which would completely explain Just how I’m breaking down
Someone come and, someone come and save my life Maybe I’ll sleep when I am dead But now it’s like the night is taking sides With all the worries that occupy the back of my mind Could it be this misery will suffice?
I’ve become A simple souvenir of someone’s kill And like the sea I’m constantly changing from calm to ill Madness fills my heart and soul as if the great divide could swallow me whole oh, how I’m breaking down
oooohhh my life
Someone come and, someone come and save my life (save my life) Someone come and, someone come and save my life (save my life) Someone come and, someone come and save my life Could it be this misery will suffice?
is all over the news because she’s a celebrity drug addict. While Justin Allen, 23, Brett Linley, 29, Matthew Weikert, 29, Justus Bartett, 27, Dave Santos, 21, Chase Stanley, 21, Jesse Reed, 26, Matthew Johnson, 21, Zachary Fisher, 24, Brandon King, 23, Christopher Goeke, 23, and Sheldon Tate, 27 are all Marines that gave their lives this week, no media mention. Honor THEM by reblogging.
“WEARY with toil, I haste me to my bed
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind, when body’s work’s expir’d:
For then my thoughts—from far where I abide— 5
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see:
Save that my soul’s imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view, 10
Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,
For thee, and for myself no quiet find.”—William Shakespeare
in Shakespeare class as I write this. I’ve already finished my movie project (full to the brim with embarrassing footage) and drawn the front of a birthday card. I love block days with nothing to do….So I’m going to throw a sonnet at you all. This is sonnet 27, my favorite Shakespeare sonnet (so far). After reciting and analyzing it last year and then illustrating it in film this year, i can say I really like it. It has a beautiful message of traveling all day on your feet and then continuing to travel in your dreams to find the one you have not seen in many years. Love it.
After a while you learn the subtle difference Between holding a hand and chaining a soul, And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning And company doesn’t mean security. And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts And presents aren’t promises, And you begin to accept your defeats With your head up and your eyes open With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child, And you learn to build all your roads on today Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight. After a while you learn… That even sunshine burns if you get too much. So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul, Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure… That you really are strong And you really do have worth… And you learn and learn… With every good-bye you learn.
Somewhere in the far reaches of my mind Is the city With intercrossing roads and bridges Sidewalks and streets that interchange as I leave them Where the inhabitant forever sleeps Underneath the sky that pulses green Purple and red, painted in arches over stars. Neon signs that glimmer in faint comparison
Somewhere along the highway Over frost heaves evident in the warmest night I hear the notes that whisper through the potholes Born from a place buried far beneath my feet Heavenly light shines through the cracks in the cement That beckons to me, Lower yourself down to us before You are raised beyond our reach.
Somewhere behind the windowpanes Through a distorted frost I look, not knowing what I should be seeing Yearning for familiarity in this broken place Your sight could pull me up through clouds of smog Past a barrier of colors too bright for me to register Gone from sleepers and dreamers trapped inside, That mumble in their unbreakable rest,