I am indeed not quite sure of which words to speak. Sometimes my mind is filled with such wonders of love and conflict and tales of the mystic, or the quite ordinary. But then there also comes times when the front of m head feels like aching. I suppose this is one of those times. Still, I feel the need of expressing muself. Of which tales to tell, I am not sure, even if I once did. It is like that with inspiration, I guess. It comes and goes as it iself pleases. Yet, I find myself wonderfully in love with the feeling of great words coming to me for no semingly reason…
A quote of life Monday, May 25 2009
Uncategorized 8:08 am
The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience. – Elanor Roosevelt
I wish i had the courage to live life to the full…
She rules them all, She whom will be Sunday, May 24 2009
Fear and Future and List and Me and myself and Power and Wise words 7:12 pm
A day long gone, I was in an inspired moment. Suddenly thoughts began running through my head. I got the nearest thing i could reach (at the time a fiery red lipstic) and wrote (on my mirror, it turned out) my words. In many ways I think these small words describes parts of what is me, and parts of what I hope one day will be. Some of it I fear, and others makes me feel awe. All done in a split second of my mind;
She Rules Them All, She Whom Will Be
Live life to the full
Dreams of true (to understand this, you must look at previous posts)
Eyes so strong, they turn fire to ice
The greater good
Hope is a string around your finger when drowning
The weapon to become
They think you are what they see you as
Honour in power
Strongness in numbers, is underestimating the few
Eyes see, tongues do not speak
In the deepest of thoughts, lies few things to be spoken of
And in the end, who can tell what it all means. It is what it appears to be, or do you underestimate them?
Goodnight my someone Tuesday, May 12 2009
Uncategorized Dreams, Feelings, Him, Longing 8:03 am
Goodnight, my someone,
Goodnight, my love,
Sleep tight, my someone,
Sleep tight, my love,
Our star is shining it’s brightest light
For goodnight, my love, for goodnight.
Sweet dreams be yours, dear,
If dreams there be
Sweet dreams to carry you close to me.
I wish they may and I wish they might
Now goodnight, my someone, goodnight
True love can be whispered from heart to heart
When lovers are parted they say
But I must depend on a wish and a star
As long as my heart doesn’t know who you are.
Sweet dreams be yours dear,
If dreams there be
Sweet dreams to carry you close to me.
I wish they may and I wish they might
Now goodnight, my someone, goodnight.
Goodnight, Goodnight.
The rain which rules the sun Wednesday, May 6 2009
Uncategorized Power, Society 9:52 am
So, the song from the small flute in her ears was as sweet as the timberling water beside of her, working its path between round white stones. She felt alone, though. The music never faded, except when she herself wanted to. She did not se the servants running to do their chores all around, trying their best being silent an invisible. She never noticed them. Her arrogance filled the air as the sun shone opun her golden hair, which covered her face. A swift of a breeze came across her face, showing tears from the eyes behind the hair.
“My mistress, you cry” It was one of the new ones, it must have been. Noone else would have dared come with such a statement. But she was not in the mood of punishing incompetent servants, not today. Insted, she rised, pushed the tears away with a soft hand and looked the servant straight in the eye. Even if she was shorter by a foot, she did indeed seem meters taller, authority ozing her being.
“What is your name, child?” She asked.
“I am called Annabelle, Mistress”
“Well, Annabelle, you should know better than to talk without being spoken to”
“I am sorry, Mistress. It will not happen again, I was just conserned of your wellbeing”
“You must always remember, my child, even if the sun shines on you own pretty head, rain will fall on someone else. And for the time being that someone else might want to be left alone. When the rain rules the sun, the sun can not dry out tairs.”
The servant dropped to an curtsy, and when she raised, the woman was gone.
“There is a time for all of us to rain,” the servant said in agreement before going back to her chores.
The game of dancing the blade Tuesday, May 5 2009
Uncategorized Power, Society 12:19 pm
And then the world started spinning, and we were all doomed by the first breath of our kind. Troubles erasing problems, and problems born at the core of troubles. One can not give in, and one can not stop the rain falling. The world starts spinning, and we can not make it stop, its sweetly bitter taste of living poisoning the scene.
At the end, all we can do is trying to dance the blade, careful not to fall, not to get cut. We can not rise, the blade is too sharp. We can not lie down, the blade is too sharp. We can not surrender, the cut will be too depp. We can not climb up, we can not reach the rope, and even the slightest try of a jump will pull us down further than we began. So the blade floats in the air, beside every other, beside all of us, beside what we call our society.
We want to break free from this chain, but every attempt sharpens the blade, and the dance gets more difficult. And the blade will eventually hurt us all, eighter by our selfdoing or by others pushing away the hang grasping for help from others dancing their own blade.
Even with all of us in the same situation, we keep fighting the beast of our nightmares, fighting eacother, and keeping alive. Some of us push others down to make themselves seem higher, and some rises someone else in the hope of getting pulled themselves. We give and we take, and in the end we are all the same, just as we began.
The hen lays an egg and the egg becomes a hen. Who really care which of them came first. They both are, by the time of change. The time which of we all longer, but never quite will experience. The time of the falling blades where stairs no longer are stairs, but a floor for us all to stand. Yet, we do not seem to be pleased with this. All equal. The same. We want to stand out in the crowd, we want to be the only one able to dance the blade. Here, Now.
What are we really? And how can we learn the dance?
Life is passing by, and I missed the train Tuesday, May 5 2009
Uncategorized 10:11 am
