Every vacation
i was vacating my soul.
and now, I am constantly empty.
Here's to all of us
Who are homesick for a place that no longer exists.
Some kind of night into your darkness
Colored your eyes with what's not there
I rode
Past your home on my way back. I could have stopped. I thought to have stopped.
I should have stopped. And not wasted time.
Not wasted life. Not wasted your Love.
Wishes
If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory of how they were answered by you
I need your touch
Your Love, kisses and such
(My world crumbles when you are not near, even if I try to keep going and survive: it was me running away - I'm dreaming of you)
The hateful snooze
As dreams move through the night, invariably, you show up. More often than not, hugging someone, sometimes embracing.
The message is clear. I am no longer part of your world. Then, you somehow give me the time of the day to explain and remain distance. At some point, I am in a void, thinking how can I see you again. Then the phone rings, and I rush to try to get back to sleep, to the dream, to you. But whule it snoozes, you are gone.
Everyday, the worst two minutes. But then again, I wake up, and reality is back, our inexistence materializes, and I try hard to get up.
But, as a zombie. My happiness, my life are my dreams, the only place left with a glimpse of hope. Even if even there we are not together.
Can't stop
Couldn't stop. You told me not to: "Don't stop".
And those words reverberate through the emptiness and darkness of my cold, painful nights.
Words within, because there are no words left you say to me. No connection. And rigthfully so - you are connected to someone else. Rigthfully so.
Ivory tower
How can we realize we are sitting at the top of an ivory tower, and not in a dark, secluded dungeon?
On the first, we should be able to see around, as there are walls. And yet, we refuse to see. In a dungeon, we grasp for clarity, but eventually accept that the tight corner we are confined to is our complete world.
Reality is that in my castle of life, I have a stair case, that connects the god forsaken dungeon, and the ivory tower. I keep walking between the two: I realize I cannot see when below, and yet I refuse to see when the horizon shows itself in all its splendor.
Somehow, with you, I could not see, I refused to see. But everytime we were together, I felt, I touched, I tasted. In my castle, you made me realize there was a room where I could live, with a fireplace, food, warmth, art, joy, Love. And yet, every morning I keep getting up and walk up or down, unto the darkest places of my soul, or the arrogance of my mind.
I no longer feel Love. Because that room you showed me is now empty - I never went back inside.
Broken people
Somehow orbit towards each other.
Not sure how I ever happened to escape your gravity. I suppose I haven't. It's faint, but at the end, I am still attracted, and gently revolving towards you. Or maybe, just another empty, cold rock that only shone while close to your light. A fade away comet, travelling away from you, towards the heart of darkness.
I am not a bad person
I can not be a bad person. I might do wrongs, but I try to be good. I might falter, but I try to correct my path. I might be lucky, but I try my chances. I migth overstep, but I am humble.
I deserve more. I have more. I do not deserve what I have. I do not get what I want.
Oggi
Ho parlato italiano. Potreba parlare ogni giorno, forse, se habbeva fatto il justo.
Disarm you with a smile
And leave you like they left me here
To wither in denial
The bitterness of one who's left alone
Ooh, the years burn
Ooh, the years burn, burn, burn
I am not myself.
You must unlearn the habit of being someone else or nothing at all, of imitating the voices of others and mistaking the faces of others for your own.
[…]
One thing is given to man which makes him into a god, which reminds him that he is a god: to know destiny.
[…]
When destiny comes to a man from outside, it lays him low, just as an arrow lays a deer low. When destiny comes to a man from within, from his innermost being, it makes him strong, it makes him into a god… A man who has recognized his destiny never tries to change it. The endeavor to change destiny is a childish pursuit that makes men quarrel and kill one another… All sorrow, poison, and death are alien, imposed destiny. But every true act, everything that is good and joyful and fruitful on earth, is lived destiny, destiny that has become self.
True action, good and radiant action, my friends, does not spring from activity, from busy bustling, it does not spring from industrious hammering. It grows in the solitude of the mountains, it grows on the summits where silence and danger dwell. It grows out of the suffering which you have not yet learned to suffer.
[…]
Solitude is the path over which destiny endeavors to lead man to himself. Solitude is the path that men most fear. A path fraught with terrors, where snakes and toads lie in wait… Without solitude there is no suffering, without solitude there is no heroism. But the solitude I have in mind is not the solitude of the blithe poets or of the theater, where the fountain bubbles so sweetly at the mouth of the hermit’s cave.
Most men, the herd, have never tasted solitude. They leave father and mother, but only to crawl to a wife and quietly succumb to new warmth and new ties. They are never alone, they never commune with themselves. And when a solitary man crosses their path, they fear him and hate him like the plague; they fling stones at him and find no peace until they are far away from him. The air around him smells of stars, of cold stellar spaces; he lacks the soft warm fragrance of the home and hatchery.
[…]
A man must be indifferent to the possibility of falling, if he wants to taste of solitude and to face up to his own destiny. It is easier and sweeter to walk with a people, with a multitude — even through misery. It is easier and more comforting to devote oneself to the “tasks” of the day, the tasks meted out by the collectivity.
True
While the sun hangs in the sky
And the desert has sand
While the waves crash in the sea
And meet the land
While there's a wind and the stars
And the rainbow
'Til the mountains crumble into the plain
Oh, yes, we'll keep on trying
Tread that fine line
Oh, we'll keep on trying, yeah
Just passing our time
Ooh, ooh!
(Mostly, through the sorrow. No splendor since I'm gone.)