Life is a carousel. We just keep spinning around, looking at our reflection in the mirrors, which carry images of not only ourselves, but of our life, of the people we met, we loved, we hated. Deep inside the mirrors we can find the deepest secrets we all thought were locked away. We dance up and down the carousel, until we finally let go...
Music has a way of making me forget about all the hurt, the pain I've come to know all too well and for a moment when I hear that special song, I can be at peace with everything. I realise that what's done is done and that's alright, because another day has gone by and with it sorrows I dwelled upon. But each night, as the moon is rising, I think to myself; I could already be gone, if I went now...
Nothing ever happens anymore. I mean all the things I say, all the things I do, seem so meaningless somehow. I feel like I've already said and done them all before. Like I'm just waiting to be washed away into some alternate state of being, like there's something out there, baiting me to find it. Is there really no going back? What if I found a way? Because I think I did, but I'm never going to tell, because this is one of those things, you take to the grave, which is closer than you think...
