Are bad decisions for good reasons truly wrong? I’ve been wondering and can’t find the answers in all the generic ‘right’ ways or places. What if my desires and responsibilities contradict each other, what if my values and principles clash? Without trying to sound too much like a relativist, morality is fluid. Even if the mass stays the same, the (individual) shape will constantly move, morph, change, grow, evolve. Sometimes even back into a previously familiar form. Although backwards growth isn’t possible, this direction of movement can sometimes prove useful. If only to remember, recollect and cherish dearly what once was.
I would not ask of you to give me all your tomorrows, for there is no such thing as a promise in tomorrow.
I wouldn’t ask you for anything beyond your control of the universe.
But I’d like to ask you for your yesterdays. A promise to share together our reflections on memories of our times.
That, if we may make it to the unpromised tomorrow, we will accompany each other to celebrate every yesterday we’ve come through.
Hello weakness and neglect
Your name is not love anymore
You’ve chosen ego over us
Nothing matters but your pride
Every try you will reject
No issue is ever resolved
Hello weakness and neglect
My every gesture you ignore
I’ve chosen now to give up
All importance you let slide
Never did you self reflect
None of us was involved
Hello weakness and neglect
Our memories won’t restore
We’ve chosen to kill our love
Both of us are broken inside
Neither of us we could protect
Which self has evolved?
I miss you profoundly
Endless supply of electrified embraces
Infinite flow of sensational kisses
Warm sweetness soothing my skin
My lips & my taste buds
My hearing, my vision
My unquenchable thirst to feel you within
It’s been too long
I’m astounded in hindsight
To how we could let distance
Come in between once more
I crave you unbearably
Thoughts of how long still to wait
Memories of graphic passionate love we made
Exceeding the laws of attraction
Surpassing the surplus
With ease defying any concepts of perfection
This shall when we
Liberate from separation
Adorn the beauty of this romance
Come together will we only more
So many losses
Remembering the hurt
I don’t know how to recognize myself
Memories covered up in dirt
I have no feeling left
It all fell apart
My soul is drowning in this deep liquid
Bleeding out my heart
I peel of my skin like a furr coat
There is more emptiness underneath
Every layer is all the same
It never comes together in any sense
No reason, no purpose
No goal and no mercy
Unresponsive to relativity
Intolerant to patience
Rebellious towards gravity
Ignorant yet persuasive
It’s like a never ending story
But in lack of beginning
Now that I’m in it
I can not get out
It revolves around me
Like a bubble of soap
Collecting and kept in captivity
Disobediant but servile
Destructing freedom for felicity
There is no safety
I want to write till dawn falls
Until I don’t remember anything
About now or ever or whatever that is to come
I know there are no memories available
Of a future that is mine to make
But the past that is mine to keep
Promises only worse to follow
I rather not know any thing no more
I rather not breathe another ounce of oxygen
I rather just sleep to never wake once more
I rather just die tonight cause living for tomorrow is a waste
Tomorrow won’t be any better than before
Like none of the tomorrows ever been
They’re always just the same
A little worse if I’m lucky
Maybe something awful to happen, if I try hard
People hope and believe and pray
For anything, for all that will never come
It’s all just such a waste of effort
Life is a waste of time
Not worth the time wasted though
In the end you die and be forgotten
Why start and make something of it to begin with
It all ends the same
Everything you try
Goes the same way eventually
Follows the same path
Maybe that is destiny
That things in YOUR life, always go the way YOUR life is supposed to go
Fucked up in my case
Still I stay this messed up believer
Believing in better things to come
Believing in hope to bring relief
Believing in love to ever ease my heart
…But the way this heart’s been broken
It’s impossible to heal…
No one should feel obliged to even try
Let’s just say you do feel that way
Let’s just consider a situation where someone comes along
That wants to make me happy and alive
Someone who is convinced he wants to love me and fill me with all the joy and love in the world
…He will find out soon enough
That it simply takes too much…
Too much time, too much effort, too much attention, too much understanding, too much care, too much commitment, too much endless interest, too much patience, too much love, too much light, too much happiness, too much of everything that has ever been considered to belong to the category of ‘good’
You see, I have this enormous black hole, in the place where average people carry their heart.
I know, the heart is nothing but a muscle, which grows more strong and fit, if you train it.
But we’re all human right ?
Human’s have everything in pairs:
Two pieces of reproductions devices (men: testicles, women: overies)
So how come we only have one (physical) heart ?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not getting all psych right now.. and I know that ‘matters of the heart’ ..it’s just a metaphore because emotion doesn’t actually occur in the heart. We may feel it in our thorax area, some only feel it in their abdomen. In reality it’s just electricity in the nerve system.
But we call it the heart, for some reason right ?
Let’s just pretend for a second, that we actually have two hearts…
One physical, pumping around our blood, supplying our body with what it needs to stay vital, keeping us alive.
And one heart, on a whole other level. Not mental or emotional even. I don’t even care to call it metafysical, because that has a philosopical nasty ring to it. No, I mean something waaay beyond that.
A second heart, I think we all have another heart, on a level of love. Love being then this universal source. A source, not just supernatural, but outernatural. Like a god almost. But nothing like a god at the same time. Because I’m not talking about a person or a creature or anything that has form or shape or extension. I’m talking about something way more elusive and lucid. Something way more abstract and intangible. Something not even divine or superb, but everything more than that. Something so unimaginable, yet so desirable. Something so exciting, yet so nerve rackingly calming. Something so fulfilling, you get confused because as a human being you just don’t understand why you’re not seeking for fulfilment anylonger. Something so overwhelming, it covers and controls every governing system you ever had or created in order to keep yourself together. Yet it has you falling apart. Because as a human being, you’re not built to handle this.
Self-sabotage, self-inflicted injury, self-mutilation even.
At least, that is the typical way of dealing with these things or situations, for me. Would’nt know how to any other way. Maybe that’s my ultimale goal, maybe I have a goal in life after all.
Learning, or teaching myself.. to deal, cope or handle with.. life (?) and all that comes with it? Which should be nothing but love. But who wants to live in Utopia?
What’s the good worth, without the bad ?
Could we distinguish the colors of light if there was no darkness for it to step out off ?
Could we recognise sound if there was never silence ?
I think we would though. I think every living person has a certain sense of what’s good and great and perfect and beautiful and precious and lovely even if we’ve never had any sensory experience of it, as a sort of ‘a priori’ invested knowledge implanted in our souls to begin our lifes with.
Why do I think that? What has me so convinced?
How come we know the concept of ‘peace’ while the world is in war every day ever since human race can begin to remember it’s own name ?
How come even the most morbid souls know at least some clinical description of the meaning of love ?
How come we manage to conceptualize the meaning of an ‘utopia’ when there is no perfection ever realized in this world ?
How could there every exist such knowledge (or ‘faith’, for the pessimists and sceptists among us) if there wasn’t just the slightest fraction of useful information to support any of such conceptual ideas..?
Even the most extravagant, extraordinary, extreme and irrealistic fantasy or dream, is only constructed with the tools of our sensory perception. If we dream, we dream in shapes and colors, which we know… from within, from before.
We dream about what we know, they say. A random cocktail of deep hidden beliefs and fears and hopes or desires even, mixed together into a story, or even just a documentary of flashing images that make no sense but agressively pound their footsteps in our mental image anyhow.
But I bet baby’s dream too.. Maybe they don’t remember their dreams, they’re probably not fit to reproduce a sensible story out of them afterwards at any time of their lifes…
But I’m sure baby’s dream. And I don’t just refer to baby’s, at this point. I’m actually talking about fetuses. Baby’s that still live in the womb of an pregnant woman, full of big expectations, so to speak. I don’t really know if there has been any research regarding this specific question (and if not, I really think there should be, by now), but I think that any human being, when developed a full use of the brain capacity, it would be able to dream, right?
I mean, an unborn baby can hear it’s surroundings. The impressions it gains while being breed, are supposed to be carried along with the child among its life. So I bet there is a mental space, in that tiny brain, that has already (or at least practices perhaps) some premature mental equivalent of processing those (probably mostly auditive) impressions, into dreams..
So let’s just assume that is true. Unborn infants experience dreams too.. Then what do they really dream about? Their eyes are still closed, they don’t have any visuals. They just have sounds. Some basic emotions maybe? It’s true that dreams don’t always occur in a visual content. Sometimes we just dream a feeling, a sensation. If they are ugly and fearful, we call them night terrors. (not nightmares.. nightmares are just bad dreams). Night terrors.. we all have them, you dream something so awful, you won’t even know how to remember what it looked like. Like post-traumatic stress syndrome after a traumatic event. You know it happened, you know EVERY detail about it!! …only not in words, or images, even the most creative examples or most vivid metaphors don’t begin to allow to explain exactly HOW it felt or WHAT it was like.
But those can only exist if a person has at least the slightest amount of misery in experience available. Presuming an unborn baby has no such thing, I allow myself to assume that unborn baby’s have dreams, not night terrors.
Coming back to where I started with, how is it that we know about things that not really exist? Such as peace and perfection. And what do unborn baby’s dream about, if they have no visual content whatsoever to construct a dream in display?
There must be, in my imagination at least, a place where these things develop and occur. A place beyond physicalities, broken free of scientific borders. I believe it is the second heart.
A nature of every human, that resides among them, further and deeper than the senses could ever explain. A second heart, where love lives and rules and flows freely, and willingly. Yet trapped like a secret potion in a vessel. The vessel of eternal youth, perhaps…
They have a way of coming
Always back to me
When I watch the shades
In a dark night outside
Or when I watch the sun fade
Into the water so bright
Then I realise how my heart
Is filled with so much
Love and care, but torn apart
By edges of broken trust
Whatever may heal
Things I will always feel
Nomatter how far
Or long ago they might have been
My eyes can’t keep up
With all the ugliness I’ve seen
And been through non stop
They say life is tough
And nomatter how you try
It seems never enough
Nonetheless I’ll get by
And breathe through another day
Find another chance
Create my own space and way
To then again
Fall and fail
But never to quit
Until my last exhale
Until my fire is unlit
I will keep making memories
To learn from and leave behind
I will remember every piece
Every treasure that I find
what do you know about
the dark side of the sun
hidden beneath a heat of clouds
I promise you that no one
has ever been there or seen that
too hard, too hot, too far, too bad
you wouldn’t even think to care to know
because you will never be able to go
don’t think you should or would even want
but I know you’re challenged by
the fact that it has never been done
but the further you try to fly
the deeper you allow yourself to fall
no reasons for how or why
cause don’t we all
just love the thought of danger
the risk of meeting a stranger
but of course to never trust
cause we’re just addicted to the rush
and all that could happen
what should not but probably will
how much we let in
and enjoy the pieces of ourselves to spill
to never recollect
never care what’s next
and never come back to it
never let show
our purest or truest
it’s a waste, a shame
worth for nothing to know
but still we are the same
and you do it just like me
innocent covers to blow
will it ever change?
cause those sad games
give breathing flavor
and only to win time
we do each other a favor
pretending to seek
never caring to find
until that darkside meets
and we roll back into our minds
then it’s history within a week
those memories never to repeat
happy we will never become
not like this
but why care over the outcome
when the real bliss
of these rays of sun
always overshine the dark side
why care what’s on the inside
if we keep it on the surface
nothing can ever hurt us
memories no longer matter
everything i now do
is only for the better
with or without you
i no longer care
or wait to expect for
you to be there
i’m looking for more
than you could ever give
i have more of me
than you allow me to live
we will never be
like we never really were
i’m over us
done with who you are
manipulating me into
guilt and insecurity
this love wasn’t true
nothing like trust or purity
and now you’re losing
i’m taking back control
i’m not for your amusement
in my fate lays a greater role