So it goes, so it goes, so it goes...

Poison spreading to my lungs,

I'm not holding my breath, 

not holding any faith at all.

And I'll pray for you, 

be in pain for you.

I'll leave the porch light on,

heartbroken, each morning,

when it's me that turns it off.

Only do what pain allows...

The waiting. The wanting. Something inside me snaps. And I hate myself for it. And I hate those around me who contributed to it. And I hate how I've failed, and how others have failed me. I hate that I have to deal with this. And I hate how I can't count on anyone to be completely there when I need them, exactly the way I need them to be. And then I can't even sleep, because of my noisy brain. No matter how tired I am. It's impossible to accomplish anything but lying here in bed. Frustrated and victimized at three in the morning.

The world has changed his heart...

But it all adds up to nothing...

It's that feeling I get somehow knowing that something great is about to happen. While every passing day nothing great really does happen. I wake up, go to work, exercise, play my games, sleep and wait for another monotonous day. I know the great day is not tomorrow, not even the day after, not even in a week or a month's time. 

But it will come soon, the way you meet someone without expecting or knowing that you are going to have so much fun together. It will come soon, the way dreams come true overnight, demanding years of perspiration, ironically. It will come soon like a gush of cold air in a hot afternoon. It will come soon like a stranger you feel you have already met. It will come like a guest who would be here to stay. It will come like an eternity, a serendipity, an irony. It will come when it is time for it to come, the way you fall asleep and dreams arrive from a distant land, surely but stealthily.

If I stay the course, I could get it right...

A river doesn't hold a grudge against a rock in its path. A leaf doesn't refuse to blow in the breeze. It allows itself to be spun around and then lands gently, once the storm has passed. A plant doesn't deny water or sunshine. I know all this, yet here I am, struggling to keep myself afloat. I have been given the gift of self-awareness, but it is quickly turning into self-destruction. Here is what I must accept: I have appeared from nowhere, I will disappear into nowhere, and on the way I am madly running, not really enjoying what is now and here. I must let whatever comes, come. Let whatever goes, go. I will stop demanding. I won't regret. Won't cling. Won't control. I will simply flow. I will let it go.

Running through my head...

The voices of my conscience hitting ground...

When I was a young boy, I was honest,

and I had more self control.

If I was tempted I would run,

then when I got older I began to lie,

to get exactly what I wanted,

when I wanted it, and I wanted it.

Now I'm having trouble differentiating

between what I want and what I need

to make me happy.

So instead of thinking, I just act

before I have a chance to contemplate

the consequence of action.

Aperture lets the light in...

Certainly something had happened to me during the night. Or after months of tension I had arrived at the edge of some precipice and now I was falling, as in a dream, slowly. Even as I continued to hold my heart and try to calm its beating, even as I stood tall, trying to catch my breath, even as I felt myself solidly contained by the expectant looks of those who love me. It was the fault of the circumstances that had been inflicted on us in recent months. But enough, I had to tear the pain from memory, I had to sandpaper away the scratches that were damaging my brain. Enough.

Setting the bar beyond the stars...

Close to closing time...

If I cannot fix your broken heart, can I put mine in its place? Because these stars are not enough, and what our life was supposed to be, has left both of us in the lurch. We promised each other more, and who really is to blame, when both of us failed one another? Failed deeply and at the same time. 

It began raining harder and his thoughts drifted towards the waterfall from the night before. He wondered if the water might work itself into a frenzy around him and drag him down the cliff with it. Flash floods were becoming a common thing in his life; they came every time it rained. It kept coming down, harder and harder. He cozied up closer to the frigid rock and buried himself deeper between the rubble. By this point, the rain was building into streams and flowing off the rocks around him. He sat there in the fetal position, wondering if the rain was going to sweep him from his feeble perch and down into the dark abyss.

A dream, aloud...

Karr lives in fantasy...

I felt fully awake most of the time, but sometimes while I was awake it felt as if I were dreaming. In this dream state I didn't feel like me, the real me. I felt numb. My fingers prickled. My eyes in the mirror's reflection were glazed like the eyes of a mannequin in a shop window, my colour, my shape, but without light or focus. The weeping fit would pass and I would drag myself back to the mirror expecting to see a child version of myself. Who are you? I'd ask. I could hear the words; it sounded like me but it wasn't me. I'd watch my lips moving and say it again, who are you?

Holes in my pockets...

Lately, I don't feel inspired,

wish I was a better liar.

It's too late to be this early,

heaven knows you tried to hurt me,

maybe that's why I blame the moon.

Saw it from afar, now here we are...

This birthday, I am letting go. Letting go of the expectations of how my life should have turned out, especially in recent years. I'll be leaving that angry, resentful, crying little bitch out in the dust. Or at least I'll try every day as hard as I can to not look at the world with such gloom. Because as I blew out my candle, all I could think of was how much I actually have. In the grand scheme of things, nothing that would stand the test of time. But I have a small part of someone, and I gave a small part away, and I call my mother, while I still can, and I listen to my brother, while he still wants to talk to me, and I try to exercise while by body is still alive, and I have friends I try to support, and I have people who try to understand. And despite everything, I still have that stupid grin on my face.

Headstrong right and dead-end wrong...

The benefit of starting from rock bottom is that I've basically been handed a gift: a clean slate. My pride has been utterly demolished, my ego is pulverized, my fear of failure has been realized in its most brutal form. Yet here I am, if nothing else, absolutely free.

He started weeping out loud as the scenes of his past replayed through his head. He'd always seen the universe's interventions as highly intentional and careful selected. Something he started to rely on when he was faced with the realities of this world. Surely the universe wouldn't leave him our to dry? Surely not, after all this time? So he waited. And waited some more. For a sign that he was not abandoned. And so a year has gone by, and he is still sitting there, realising how much it cost him to hope for something that never came. But even more terrifying, what if the sign had come, and he just didn't see it? What if he had become blind to the universe's will? Maybe the universe isn't broken. Maybe the only thing that has forsaken him, is himself. 

This is what it comes down to...

In the midst of life happening all around me, I lost the ability to be okay. I lost the ability to trust. I lost the ability to love myself, and it feels like I've lost everything. And when the one person in the entire world who loves you unconditionally doesn't seem to hear what you're saying, then you start wondering will anyone ever truly understand? And then I get scared that I have to even ask that question. And then I feel lost, torn, broken, unfixable, damaged, and like nothing in the entire world could ever possibly be okay again. So I feel even smaller, even weaker. And then I realize again, that I lost myself. That in the midst of life happening all around me, I lost the ability to be okay.

Just a little impaired...

Making friends with shadows on my wall...

I move forward, treading carefully. Assessing the fault lines; the red flags; the triggers, the trigger-happy destroyers, and the destruction left in their wake. I continually assess when and how to I should react; when and how to silently stand strong; when to retreat; and if and when I must run. But I can't always control it. What will set of the blaze inside. So everything must be reflected on, new findings factored in, continually assessed and re-assessed. I decide I will talk about what's happening, it helps. I'll weigh my options, for myself and those I love, it helps. I'll make contingency plans, it helps. I'll fear nothing. It helps.

Feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown...

But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell,

I know right now you can't tell.

But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see,

a different side of me.

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired.

I know right now you don't care,

but soon enough you're gonna think of me,

and how I used to be.

I just might be...

The morning light can't come too soon...

Why can't I be quiet and strong? Why can't I be innocent and sweet and still be a force to be reckoned with? Why can't I be who I am without becoming a constant storm and destroying everything in my wake?

It's a heaviness of ache than paralyzes him with this infernus warning. Below his eyes, he's awaiting his imminent gnashing of teeth. Forbidden waters, his being needs no cleansing. Dead azure sky, the universe is unable to be seen. Heaven's plague, all he sees is deaf devotion. The man of stone, he was conceived by the infirmity of his imagination. It's all an apparition that arises from the root of decayed light. Alone, for he is indeed the seed of nothingness.

Hope one day we come back around...

Throw a brick right into that stained glass...

Whatever pain you think you are in right now cannot begin to compare to the peace that will one day come over you. It cannot begin to compare to the joy that you will one day know. You will fall in love with life again, and it will be better than it was before, because you will become a different person. You will become someone who is more capable of appreciating what matters, who will not be as reckless with their choices, who can no longer be so easily swayed or mindlessly trusting. This will not happen overnight, though it will seem like it did in retrospect. Like the changing of a season, everything shifts slowly until all of a sudden, you are standing firmly in the after, in all you feared would never come.

I wasn't brave enough to go...

You inched yourself across the great divide,

while we drove aimlessly along the line.

I heard nothing but the bass in every ballad that you'd play,

while you swore the universe read your mind.

But the world is scared of hesitating things,

they only shoot the birds who cannot sing.

And I'm finally aware of how shitty and unfair.

it was to stare ahead like everything was fine.

Time won't wait on me...

I once believed in faith - that if I patiently waited, something good will happen. But as it turns out, the chapter I am in, does not really have a happy ending. Just a series of unfortunate events that I am forced to deal with while I'm bombarded by the voices in my head. So once again, I find myself devastated. Months have gone by and it doesn't feel like I've grown at all. I've tried several times to adjust my mindset, but ended up in the same ending. It was always a different title, same story; different choices made but ending up with the same plot and finale. Now I think I am done. Utterly broken by this never ending maze, destined to wander endlessly and finally giving up faith.

Dance halls, another cadence...

 

I've got no more tricks up my sleeve...

Everything was becoming blurred - before his eyes, inside his head - because of the fierce wind, the boundless space with nothing to hold on to, the clouds he had come too close to, which long continued to journey on inside him. The audacity to never stop believing in sojourning among the summits have their price.

Nothing seems real anymore. Life feels like a cosmic conspiracy, and as much as I try not to be a victim, I so easily fall back into patterns of blame and hurt. All because I can't get rid of the hunch, that there is something more waiting for me out there. An existence I can claim. Even the flames from the fire seem to beckon to me, drawing me into this fantasy of a journey beyond this one, buried somewhere deep in my subconscious. If only I could find the key, If only. And so I continue onwards, trying to find some logical way of passing my time, of justifying a means to an end.

In the end I hope it’s you and me...

I'll be here the whole night...

I'll take my pride, 

stand here for you.

I'm not blind, 

just seeing it through.

You take my life,

just for the thrill.

I'll take tonight,

and die on this hill.

This song has started now...

What you want is the whole of him, isn't it? And the whole of him isn't there for anybody. In that full sense you want him, he doesn't exist. Everything in his life, he could see now, had taken the same turn, as for his desire for greatness, he often puzzled and puzzled, without ever allowing himself to be fully sad, as to what could be wrong with the formula. It does not work, he thought. At times there were moments when he asked himself if he could have been in the wrong for wanting more for himself. What he thought he regretted was his lack of guard, his wayward extravagance. For what had always happened he could still not account. There seemed to be some way some people reached for the stars, and somehow managed to catch one. 

I just might...

The past is a black hole, cut into the present day like a wound. I must be weary not to come too close into its proximity and get sucked in. I have to keep moving and resist its gravitational pull. Look away from its deceptively calming exterior. Understand that the serenity it brings is rotted and impure. I'd rather take the second chance life has offered me, even though it doesn't mean I'm in the clear. In many ways, it is the more difficult thing. Because a second chance means that I have to try harder. I must rise to the challenge without the blind optimism of ignorance. And the pressure of knowing that the universe rarely gives out a third. 

Puffing up my chest...

Don't give up. Don't falter and succumb to pain. Power through. Life is not coming at you, it is coming from you. Chase it. Take a step back and listen more closely to the sound of your beating heart. You are alive, and that in itself is a miracle. You can do this. She still believes in you.

This was the desert, everything all at once, whether it was needed or not. What survived had learned to save, live carefully, and keep a low profile, even appear to be dead for long periods. Perseverance and patience. You go on. You just go on. Even if you feel like your legs are about to shatter, and your sight is completely dimmed by the scorching sun. Go on. There's nothing more to it, and there's no trick to make it easier. You just go on. And what do you find on the other side? When you go on? Your life again. What else?

Should have seen the signs...

I'm sending warm regards...

If you say I'm too much, 

go find less.

If you can't keep up, 

stay below, I guess.

If I'm such a big deal, 

maybe you're too little.

Oh, it's tough? 

I'm too, too, too much.

Put me in the sky...

The big goodbye...

A me vidiš? 

Še vedno sem tu. 

I have I feeling, more than ever actually, that this coming year is going to be about letting go. Letting go of the notions I have about my life, how it should have happened, what still has to happen, and what I have to avoid at all costs. As it turns out, life is not coming at me, but from me, and being afraid is a tenant I need to release from my grasp. I need to let go of my pride. Of the pain that haunted me in recent months. Of the resentment I felt towards the universe for having the audacity to help me grow. This year will be about saying goodbye to the life I wanted for myself, and walking forward, even if step by step, towards something wonderful.

I tried to hide, but something broke...

I'm still alive and tomorrow has infinite potential. I'm still under the impression that somehow my luck is suddenly going to change, even though I don't have any indication of it. And more so, does it even need to change? Or have I in fact already been living the luckiest possible outcomes of my fate? If I can change the world, the world will change. Potential. In the past I dreaded that word. Almost resented it. Now I repeat it as I go to sleep. So much hope, so many dreams, and so much potential. I can't wait to see how it all turns out.