In the dark in which we sit and start to hammer on the keyboards to pour our souls into the vast black hole called the internet, we are alone.
We are alone always, in our minds and in death.
No one can ever be in our minds, nor can anyone or anything come with us through death into the afterlife, if there is one at all.
Man has company so he would feel what it is like to be alone.
It is the feeling of companionship that makes him yearn for more.
More love, more promises, more commitment. Stones to tie you down.
Promise you won’t leave me, promise you’ll stay, promise you’ll do this and do that… In the end the only one you can trust on is yourself. And therefore you will always, be alone.
The dinner goes on, and the laughter rings through the halls. The people cheered and they raised their glasses to do so, for some reason they all look happy. They then sit down and resumed their talking, their mindless chattering. The barrier grew, the invisible wall that grew between. You could see really, clearly that you didn’t belong. But it is an obligation, a duty, a burden you must bare. You have to smile, do the part, put on a good charade. Didn’t you know you were in for a masquerade?
Let it out, the rain of tears.
Let it out, the trains of fear.
Let them go, out of sight.
Let them go, out of mind.
Stop the tears, tumbling down.
Stop the fear, crashing down.
Pick it up, it’s your pride.
Pick it up, it’s your mask.
Clocks tick and time goes on,
I wish to see the numbers gone.
You will be then in my embrace
as we, together, beat time’s race.
Seventy-Eight, and a few hours less,
then I will feel again — your caress.
It’s true that distance pulls apart
the body, yes, but not the heart.
Tick, tick, tick, the clock goes round,
and counting down: the girl and a frown.
Why are there no remotes in life?
I would fly forward, without strife.
Now it’s time to say goodbye.
But no, I daren’t close my eyes.
For fear that you will disappear,
or that you’ll see me shedding tears.
I watched you fly into the sky,
and stood alone, ready to cry.
The plane flew up, down, up again.
I sat down home and grabbed my pen.
Here I sit, a statue, a stone,
and inside my head the mocking tone:
Oh dear, Oh dear, Whose left you now?
Oh dear! Oh dear! The tears fall down.
There’s this story about the circle who has a missing piece, and he searches and searches for the piece that he’s missing by rolling and rolling and rolling.
He tries and tries so hard to find the perfect piece for himself, until he did.
The he realised that he was better off being incomplete, and that the missing piece was also not meant to be with him.
Life is all about searching for a purpose, and when you just don’t think it’s right even though you thought it would’ve been perfect for you, set it down.
Look at things with different perspectives and you’ll realise that maybe somethings that seem like the end of the world to you at first would be a chance for you to grow and learn.