What is better than a blue life?
What trumps the endless flow?
Governed only by the wind,
watched only by the sky.
I envy a life of blue,
I envy from my concrete.
I'm fettered to the ground,
bound by road and property.
You cannot own the blue life,
no, a blue life is free of possession.
Not even my dreams can grasp it.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Acoustic Thought #3
Life is vast folks. It's a flooded valley with a million ways to cross it.
I used to divide my life into chapters by year, then it changed to the locations I lived in. But now? Now I've tossed everything I've ever done up until this point in one big chapter. My mark is so small thus far and it bothers me. It's always touching to hear about the people I've affected, painful to revisit moments where I've done others wrong, but no matter what I've done it isn't enough. Memories are grounded; I find comfort in the sense that they are a small collection of things I am assuredly capable of. When I peer into the future frustration creeps up on me and a narrative of unsure thoughts ensue. I have to constantly remind myself of what my mission is, I am the only source of my own inspiration now. This is no longer school, no longer a place where positivity is spoon-fed to us. Now, we're shrouded in the negative, constantly pushing against a violent wind as we leap across the valley of life.
I guess my point is simple; as I stand on the very cusp of the next chapter my hands are trembling, my eyes are shut, my lips are thinned, and all I hope is that this story will end exactly how I wished it.
Apologies for it being all over the place.
-Andrew
I used to divide my life into chapters by year, then it changed to the locations I lived in. But now? Now I've tossed everything I've ever done up until this point in one big chapter. My mark is so small thus far and it bothers me. It's always touching to hear about the people I've affected, painful to revisit moments where I've done others wrong, but no matter what I've done it isn't enough. Memories are grounded; I find comfort in the sense that they are a small collection of things I am assuredly capable of. When I peer into the future frustration creeps up on me and a narrative of unsure thoughts ensue. I have to constantly remind myself of what my mission is, I am the only source of my own inspiration now. This is no longer school, no longer a place where positivity is spoon-fed to us. Now, we're shrouded in the negative, constantly pushing against a violent wind as we leap across the valley of life.
I guess my point is simple; as I stand on the very cusp of the next chapter my hands are trembling, my eyes are shut, my lips are thinned, and all I hope is that this story will end exactly how I wished it.
Apologies for it being all over the place.
-Andrew
Unda Tripudio
Rolling zig-zaggedly,
stumbling quite rigidly,
and random undoubtedly.
The amorphous shapes,
the spherical drapes,
the warped image
of one bored face.
It's hard to believe,
from the sky conceived,
and the glass received,
my ending bereaved
before a blase audience.
I wish for no one the same,
a fate which only gravity is to blame,
that is one wrapped in hapless shame.
And here, the end of my dance
across the glass expanse,
a short finale to a long romance.
I ready for my life to cease,
everything to end in unsweet release,
it is the time I make my peace.
Unlike my menial life,
the downward fall
of obscure strife.
My end is splendid.
I join others to be amended.
And the sky from
which I was expended,
I shall return to be descended.
stumbling quite rigidly,
and random undoubtedly.
The amorphous shapes,
the spherical drapes,
the warped image
of one bored face.
It's hard to believe,
from the sky conceived,
and the glass received,
my ending bereaved
before a blase audience.
I wish for no one the same,
a fate which only gravity is to blame,
that is one wrapped in hapless shame.
And here, the end of my dance
across the glass expanse,
a short finale to a long romance.
I ready for my life to cease,
everything to end in unsweet release,
it is the time I make my peace.
Unlike my menial life,
the downward fall
of obscure strife.
My end is splendid.
I join others to be amended.
And the sky from
which I was expended,
I shall return to be descended.
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