Just a boy with a broken toy...

Taking steps is easy...

I'm trying to understand where exactly I made my initial mistake - trying to pinpoint the moment of no return. When the fabric of my dreams started to unravel and I set upon the trajectory that lead me to this instant in time. I go back to my earliest decisions, which plummeted me towards an uncertain life of a writer, yet I find no misdoings on my part. I wanted to be happy and I was willing to give up everything else in order to do so. The path was not easy, but surely right. Then ... slowly I move ahead, to the choices that shaped me most a person - running away, falling in and out of love, getting my heart broken, and breaking a few in turn. But even still, I find that I acted with the utmost respect and serenity I could have mustered. I held no grudges, at least not for long; I smiled when I wanted to cry, and I let them think that I moved on, even if it might have been easier to scream. So I am left with nothing at all. No clear mistake that would explain the void my mind wanders to as hours turn into days, and days turn into a lifetime. And if there is no reason, no reason at all, how does one break free? How does one survive?

Standing still is hard...

This thing you see, is about a boy who is on the cusp of becoming someone. A boy who may not know what he wants right now, and he may not know who he is in this moment in time but who deserves the chance to find out. Dear God, he prayed, let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry and have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere - be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honourable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.

Lift up, carry the love...

Step out into the sun,

skies above they radiate me.

Lift up, carry the love,

do you know

that I've been out of my mind?

This slow life I'm waiting for you,

to swing me all of your line.

Do you know?

Since I've been walking solo,

dreaming you were back home,

I find getting down low,

hide until tomorrow.

Come back into the good life,

lose these hazy love lies,

I've been chasing my mind,

lonely in the cold nights.

Chasing my mind...

Zaprt sem v grozečem stanju čakanja minevanja. Vsak korak se zdi napačen in dlje kot čakam, da na svoji poti ponovno najdem smisel, bolj se mi ugreza zemlja pod nogami. Strah me. Prvič po dolgem času zares strah. Strah, da sem zapravil priložnost, ki v resnici nikoli ni bila moja. Strah me je, da sem jo razočaral - tako globoko, da je obupala nad menoj. Kljub trepetu zadržujem solze in se skušam spomniti, da nič ni nikoli tako slabo kot se zdi in da me morda izza vogala čaka nekaj, kar si v trenutnem stanju niti ne znam predstavljati. Kaj pa vem ...

When I felt the magnitude of losing you, I quickly figured out this trick for dealing with the pain. Because it would come in waves, and sometimes they would come with such force, that I'd be completely overcome. And then, just like a wave, eventually it passed, so I'd just start to count. One, two, three, sometimes twenty sometimes a hundred. Sometimes I make it all the way up to three thousand. I knew if I could just keep on counting, that eventually it would pass. So now, as I find myself in dire circumstances once more, I tried that again. I'd wake up in the middle of the night and I'd be sweating and I'd just feel that darkness bearing down on me and I'd try counting, but this time it just wouldn't work because it's too dark and I'd forget the numbers, and I'd forget what order they're supposed to come in, and even then I thought if I could just start from scratch, if I could just move think of another number, any number, that eventually everything was going to get better. It's not getting better. It's getting worse.

Through the curtains of the waterfall...

Step out into the sun...

It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside. The beauty was almost staggering. After the wet spring, everything that could turn green had outdone itself and everything that could even dream of blooming or blossoming was in bloom and blossom. The sunlight was a benediction. The breezes were so caressingly soft and intimate on the skin as to be embarrassing. And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, he had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again. That after the next three months he will once again be a different person. He can't wait to meet him.

Kicking up stones without you...

Hide until tomorrow...

In order to understand, I destroyed myself.

Falling for someone is like pulling a loose thread. It happens stitch by stitch. You feel whole most of the time even while the seams pop, the knots loosen, everything that holds you together coming undone. It feels incredible, this opening of yourself to the world. Not like the unravelling it is. Only afterwards do you glance down at the tangle of string around your feet that used to be a person who was whole and self-contained and realise that love is not a thing that we create. It's an undoing. Luckily, in times like this, even as a young man not yet fully himself, Karr had two things besides indecision that kept him from self-destruction; this stupid thing that is still not a blog and above all a sense of irony. A way of laughing at himself that prevents the true tragedy of life to wash over him. A glimmer of happiness in this world filled with sadness. A spark. A moment lost in time - forever lost, and never his again.

So say Geronimo...

Can you feel it?

Now it's coming back we can steal it,

if we bridge this gap,

I can see you through the curtains of the waterfall.

When I lost it,

yeah, you held my hand,

but I tossed it, didn't understand.

You were waiting,

as I dove into the waterfall.

Lights go on, the music dies...

I tried. I really did. I tried to be a better person. A better friend. A better brother. But even I cannot pretend that my recent unravelling has left me without scars. I am only human, and I fear that I have gambled with everything I have, and lost. Lost so inherently that I scatter to find my last chips just to stay in the game. My life spirals back to the beginning and I am faced with the simple yet devastating notion that despite what I believed, good things don't happen to good people, and the dreams we dream are no better than the ash I once again sweep off my shoe.

So as I was in the middle of the biggest breakdown of my life, I stopped crying just long enough to let the words of my epiphany really sink in. The realisation that I set down a path with literally nothing to show for it, only made me cry harder. Not only is there obviously no right or wrong, but what goes around clearly does not come around. Karma doesn't exists, chickens do not come home to roost, and I wonder how does one atone if the day of reckoning never comes? As She always loved to point out, the good among the great understand that every choice we make adds to the strength or weakness of our spirits - our souls. And that every human’s life work is to construct an identity bit by bit, to walk a path step by step, to live a life that is worthy of something higher, lighter, more fulfilling, and maybe even everlasting. Imagine my surprise when it was clear as the rain pouring down my back that she was wrong. She was wrong about everything.

A vision softly creeping...

The sound of silence...

Against every instinct, against all reason, against all hope, fear, desire and despair; against every molecule in his body; against the jinx and against all odds - the boy with the broken smile hopes once more. A glimmer of light breached through the darkness and it showed him that the void is never as pitch black as it may seem, and that patience and serenity serve him better than sorrow and rage. He was left and he left in turn. The betrayed became the betrayer and as soon as he was able, he ran towards the moon, wishing upon every star he passed, until his mind was nothing more but an endless stream of dreams conjured and propelled by the simple notion of making a difference. He understands how, and perhaps even, why. What boggles him, is the who. Who to let go? Who to let in? Who to trust? To love? Who to lean on? And most importantly, who to tell?

Writing songs that voices never share...

Narrow streets of cobblestone...

I have decided that despite what it may seem, and despite what history has taught me, things will work out in my favour - just this once. I will jinx it, and I will overly talk about it, yet still it shall come to be as I have wished it since the beginning of dawn. I demand that I get what I want, and I am not backing down, not one bit, not even for a second. I'll see the heavens tremble, and the mighty gates shatter as my roaring cry reaches it. There are no more excuses. No more doubt or fear. There is nothing left to hide, to hold back, to remorse over. The time has come to stop analysing it, and simply let it come as it may. No more silly attention seeking or desperate acts for approval. I don't need anyone, not anyone at all telling me how my life is supposed to look like, what path to take and which ones to abandon. I am a bull in a china shop, and destroying everything I hold of value has never given me pause. I am the mighty pretender. The love of your life. The one that got away. I am all those things. I am the forever wanderer. The always almost boy. A man stuck together, yet torn apart.

In restless dreams I walked alone...

Hello darkness, my old friend,

I've come to talk with you again,

because a vision softly creeping

left its seeds while I was sleeping.