Music.

Everyone has their own melody, their own music...
It's not something chosen, really. It's something you're born with, and it's always evolving.
I don't mean like... When you're angry all your music is played in a minor key or something like that.
That would be silly.

I mean like... Every person has a melody. A music that is part oft heir core.
If you get to know them well enough, you can hear it sometimes.
Sometimes even play it.
The people that get along best; their music resonates.
The people that love you listen to you, and appreciate you...

The problem is, most people aren't looking for your melody.
They're looking to see if your melody compliments theirs.

Since no one reads this blog either anyways...

Detached?
No, not detached. Distanced maybe but... Still in touch with the feelings, the emotions...
It's everything that brings us to a point of change.
Things can never stay the same.
Not here, anyways.

Things that happen are a result of what you don't see.
A combination of thoughts and heart, always working subtly...
Free fall. You hit that at the peak.
Without it you can never find what you seek.
One has to be a little separate from the norm.
Things can't change if you get them stuck in one form.
Like a turtle or a snail trapped in a shell that won't grow...
I'm breaking out of what I know.
I have no home, but that's alright.
I'll build a new one, it's worth the fight.
And it might look a little like the one I broke...
But that's just me.

I can't escape Who I am, so Who am I to try?
But I can change What I am, if I don't then what have I?
God had a thought, and I became.
To change who He made is to dig my own grave.

But everything makes sense now. Will it later? Who knows...
It's like the moment where the fog clears and you can see the path.
That briefest instance.
And you know what you're doing.
And you know where you're going.

But then the fog settles in and you head in what you hope is the right direction, feeling more and more lost the farther you go... The farther you walk... Hoping it's the right way... Trusting the unseen...

Trust.
There is nothing else.

This is important. It just is.

Trust.

Easily given, easily broken. 

Actions taken, words spoken. 

Simple existence, reality in play. 

What happens next is what words we say.

There is no life without a basis in thought

This is the foundations of what God hath wrought.

My words and my actions, what you say and what you choose

Not all have the foresight to see what they’ll lose

You have to read between the lines

The important things lie behind the eyes. 

There is no way to describe it.

Alone.

Because no one knows who you are, but it’s not like you really know who you are either. 

But does it matter?

You don’t want it to. Why should it matter, anyways? You have friends don’t you? 

Yes. But no one knows. No one, no one, nobody… Alone. 

Emptiness. 

Hollow.

Floating, and keeping to yourself because it’s the only way to be who you are.

Who are you?

You’ll never know.

This is a land of mist. You don’t know who it belongs to. It belongs to you. You know that. But you don’t know… Who it belongs to.

Cold. Alone. Cold. Alone.

Emptiness.

Hollow.

You could disappear now. You know you could. But could you? How do you lose yourself? Did you ever have yourself?

Lost.

Lost? What is that? Who decided that?

Someone. 

Someone who probably didn’t know as much as you don’t know.

Empty.

Hollow.

Cold. Hiding. 

Hiding from what?

Something. Not me. Maybe me. 

Who is me? Who are you? Why are we hiding?

Are we hiding from you?

I am.

Empty.

Hollow.

Alone.

Maybe in writing the pain will pass
Maybe if words flow like blood, out of my finger tips and into the world...
Catching in a net, plain to see for those who know to look...
For those who care to look.

This is nothing important. Just every day life. Right?

Edges and cliffs. It takes so little for so much to change.
We know too much. But what matters?
We hear and over hear and get told all kinds of little, significant things...
Allowing us to see the webs that connect everything together....
And so we wait, watching, knowing pain is coming...

And because we know, we are trapped, feeling the pains of what is to come...

It is not our place, it never was. And yet...

Alone is for eternity.

We have been given the option to never be alone. So what drives us towards loneliness? Is it safety? But safety is no fun, we know that. Especially in solitude. Also safety is relative, so why should safety have a say in what we choose today?

And there is the problem; so often it doesn't.

Risk keeps us going, and safety calls our name. Trapped. Between what we know and what we don't, in so many more ways than one.

Crashing. Like Icarus, we get too close to the sun and our wings melt, clinging to our skin, boiling wax, burning us as we crash into an unforgiving sea. Risen on wings of daring, crashing in a sea of fear.

Escape is impossible. Fated to a labyrinth, following its winding path, undeviating as we make our way to the center, to face our demons. Half man and half beast, the death of us, the death of life. Where is the thread, the clew to escape with? There is none, not today. Today it is either fight or be devoured.

Devoured. Devoured by pain, self hatred, the flames and claws that rip us apart.

Pain...

Maybe in writing the pain will pass.
But then again, we've felt this before. Every day living. We just have to wait it out....

Right?

Safety... Thoughts poured out.

Fear,

We hide there sometimes…

It’s a good place

Because sometimes

Sometimes people get… angry…

Maybe not at us. Not directly. Not always at us no…

But angry…

Mad is not safe no, no mad is unpredictable

Painful

Everything but… Safe.

Hiding is safe. 

We are afraid.

Afraid of the dark… Afraid of sudden movement..

Unpredictable things. 

Things come out of the dark… Bad things… Scary… Things…

The darkness is born of darkness.

Did you know that? You do now. 

You can’t hide there, in the dark. 

It isn’t as safe as you think it is…

You have to see first.

We can. We can see, in the dark. 

In most darks. 

The ones we can’t, that’s not safe. 

There are shadows, in the dark. 

Not safe. 

Unpredictable. 

Sounds are angry. Loud, pressing, rising tones…

Signals. They show us what is going to happen.

Be careful when you speak.

We watch. We listen. Sometimes you scare us. 

Defense mechanism.

We fade, fade into ourself…  

We are small. You have to look, look for us. But we are safe. 

You are not. No one is safe, sometimes. 

People are triggered so easily…

Fear. Fear is safe because it is cautious. 

It watches. 

We watch. 

There is a difference… A difference between safe… And Safe…

Hiding… And not. 

When you are simply safe, then you are oblivious to what is going on. 

When we are safe we are careful. Watching. Hiding. 

We hide, sometimes.

You don’t. Not enough. You wouldn’t understand… 

It isn’t a fear that says you cannot. It isn’t a fear that speaks death. It isn’t a fear that gives in to peer pressure. 

It is a fear that sits in the darkest corner of the room, watching the others around it. 

Safe.

Angering no one…

Safe doesn’t Change itself. Not the way.. Fear does. 

There is the difference…

Wisdom verses reckless stupidity…

Safe. 

Verses safe. 

When people are mad they stop. No more long sentences… No more love. Short sentences. Broken words. Deadpan monotone, rising volume sometimes but not always… 

Quicker movements. 

Longer stares. 

No love. 

No love… Separation. 

When people get angry they put up walls. 

Anger is a wall. 

That is why anger is. Because people put up walls. 

And that is why when there are walls, the obvious answer… The safe answer… is assume anger. 

Always assume someone is mad at us. We do. We do so often. 

If we always assume someone is mad at us, we are safe. 

Always. Safe. 

Hiding… 

Touching. Touching is love is safe is not anger. Hugs. 

Yelling. Yelling is not safe is not love is anger. 

Cussing. Same thing. Jerking away. Same thing. 

When a person goes stiff as you hug them. When a person does not react… 

That is a wall. Walls mean anger. Walls always mean anger. 

Its the way the world works…

Hiding… In the dark away from the shadows…

The dark is not angry… Not mad.. Has no feelings…

People without feelings are not safe either. They simply do, for reasons based on science. For reasons based on proof. Proof doesn’t prove God. God proves God. God is emotion. 

The emotion.. Of logic…

Emotion is not safe either. It is not controlled. It changes. Too quickly. It turns. One moment everything is fine but utter three simple syllables and suddenly there is pain and with pain comes walls and with walls…

It is not safe. 

Safe. 

We are safe.

We know… How to watch… What to look for…

And now you do too. 

...

The hardest person to prophecy, to speak to, to see clearly, and to understand, is and always will be yourself.
Because yourself always gets in the way.
No matter how much you know you, you are always arguing about you and about your interpretation of you.
And then it gets even more muddled when you pretend you know what others think...

It goes something like this.
You: I am _______.... Or, I think I am. But maybe I'm not. I want to be. Or do I? What if that's not right. Hm. Well this is a problem. I wonder what ____ thinks. I bet they think this. Oh dear. Probably. Well, maybe if I do this.... Oh no that didn't work at all. Well. I guess I'm more like ______. Oh. That doesn't work either. I should be more ______ that might fix it.

And then it keeps going and going and getting worse....
And you can't fix yourself. And no one else can fix you (Mostly because they're too busy doing the same thing to themselves as you are to yourself.)

And so it's a loop. A loop of people who aren't. Trapped and hidden away from people who are.
Even if you know how to fix it, you still aren't sure. And you don't want to try. Because, what if you're wrong? Your own thoughts and fears get in the way.
A constant battle.
Who wins?
No one knows.
You know.
You know God wins.
That's the entire point, isn't it?

But... Doesn't God want you to do stuff on your own?
Or.. Maybe He doesn't.

I don't know.
Do you know?
I think no one knows any more....

It's all a matter of perspective, anyways.

See

See through my eyes.
Do you know, do you know what I see?
I see beauty.
And I see brokenness.
They live together.
Now, we see dimly as in a mirror.
But then
Then we shall know and be known..

Clear as day.
Bright as a moonlit, star-filled night.

God is love,
and so must I be.

But God has already died for me.

It is not for salvation that we follow.
It is for love.
It is out of respect,
It is out of joy,
It is the longing to reciprocate what has been given.

And we cannot love until we are loved.

It's all how you look at it...

If there was a way to draw with words I would, but I can’t. 

But you can.

You can take my words, you can make a picture…

No one can make that picture for you.

No matter how many words you are given, only you can string them together.

If I describe a red ball to you, what do you see? Maybe I saw a bouncy ball, like the kind you get out of a quarter machine at walmart. And maybe you saw something roughly the size of a dodgeball. 

Now, if I told you to think of a basketball, you would see something orange with lines on it…

But maybe I meant a white one, with red lines?

See, but now you’re thinking of a baseball. 

We have pre-conceived pictures of what we think things ought to look like. Beauty to me might be a sunset over a world of ice, captured right as the moon is rising. Beauty to you might be a forest at the break of dawn, captured in the dew drops falling from the leaves of the trees. 

If I told you to imagine a world free of worry, what do you see? 

You won’t see what I see.

No one sees what I see.

If I told you about a dragon, tall as a building, with glistening red scales… It’s eyes are black. It’s shimmering, simply because heat is emanating from it, but to you it looks like magic. To me it looks like magic. Its teeth, sharp and long, don’t all fit inside its mouth. Its wings are an onyx colored gossamer fabric. You can just about see through them, but then again you could just be imagining it…

You just painted a picture in your head. I maybe suggested it, but you put it there. Was your dragon angry? Terrifying? 

Mine was sad, and quiet. 

Words are slave to their masters… But are their masters the authors? Or are their masters the reader?

Who is really in charge? It’s all by interpretation. 

Once upon a time, a princess got roasted, and then promptly eaten. Who ate it? 

You probably imagined the dragon eating the princess. It probably swallowed her in one bite.

I saw a king’s court dining finely on a dragon. I never said it was a human princess, now, did I? 

No one sees the same. 

What do you see? 

Sense (This makes none)

The things that are hardest to say...

The things that need to be said

The things that spin in your mind

The things you just need to get out of your head

Confusion

Chaos

Where faith and fear collide

It's all the things you're afraid to say

It's all the things you hide away

Your thoughts

Your feelings

Who you are...

You can risk everything you have, without risking everything you are.

But if you don't really have who you are, you don't really have anything.

Risk is only a matter of perspective.

Everything is only a matter of perspective.

It's all how you look at it.

Upside down, the piece doesn't fit

But move it

And the puzzle is complete.

Everything has a simple answer, but you can't see the forest if all you see is a singe leaf. 

Borrowed phrases, borrowed cliches.

A cliche is a truth the world is tired of hearing. 

But it's usually something cliche that people need to hear the most

To say the most

To remember, in times of silence, 

When you're alone... 

Darkness

Light

It's all the same

(It's a matter of perspective.)

(How do you see it)

(.... Or, do you see it?)

What do you see? (Are you blind?)

And how would you know blindness?

You don't know you're asleep until you wake up.

But what if it's too late? 

You never know until time's up... 

And you don't know what you have until it's gone.

(Time's up.)

A simple game.

You've come to a hall. There is an open door to your left, and a closed door straight ahead.
You know the door ahead is unlocked.
You know it is the way.
But still, curiosity gets the better of you, and you look left.

It is a plain, undecorated room.
There is a woman sitting in the room, at a table against the wall.
She is old; the wrinkles on her face speak of everything from excruciating pain to ecstasy.
She is not alive.
But, she is breathing. She is moving.

"Come, sit with me," she says.

You know the door ahead is unlocked.

You know it is the way.

But who is she? And what is this?

Intrigued, you take a step into the room. 

Her lips lift, ever so slightly, smirking. Smiling. 

You relax. Alive or not, she seems kind. 

"Come, sit..." She is playing with something. A deck of cards?

She smiles openly now, seeing the inquisition written in your eyes.

"How about a game of chance?"

You know the door ahead is unlocked.

You know it is the way.

But what does she have to offer?

As you walk further into the room, you see...

Behind her is another door. 

You do not know where it goes. 

She does. You know she does. 

"A simple game of chance..." she whispers as you sit down. 

"You know the door ahead is unlocked." speaks a voice. 

"And you know it is the way." 

But that voice is too familiar. 

You know if you sit, the door behind you will close. 

You don't know if it will open again. 

The woman is laying out the cards on the table. 

All you have to do is win.

Right?

Don't ask.

I wrote this probablyyyy about a year ago, in the middle of my first track in Fire In The Night.

I would explain what FITN is, but no one reads this anyways, therefore I don't have to.

Anyways. It's a year later and naturally, I'm back here again. Not entirely. But mostly. Nothing happens the same twice... But the concept remains.. Anyways. Enough of me talking.

It’s all circling my head right now, far far away… Like a fog around my head… Sounds, words, feelings, lost to me. I can see them all, I know what they are. I know so many things about them but they’re… Distant.

I’m waiting for that moment when they all snap back. That moment when sharp reality hits.

I’m not even sure what that reality is right now.

Pain, maybe? Or maybe it’s joy. Maybe I’m happy. Or am I depressed, and sad? Are all my fears alive and suffocating me? Am I lost and alone? Or should I feel strong and in control right now? It’s not like fear has any right to rule me.

Right?

Conflicted. That’s what I am. Pulled by freedom, pulled by captivity. A victim of one whilst still a glad recipient of the other. Happy, yet hurting.

And in feeling both, I feel neither sides of the coin. I do not, can not feel the fullness of the joy, but I am not crushed by sadness.

I know which direction I have to pull myself in. I know where I need to be going.

But I’m too numb to know how much I care right now.

What did this? What started this? None can know. A lengthy chain of events, I’m sure. But I will probably never know the beginning, the first domino to fall.

It’s all circling around my head now, far away from my consciousness. Only to touch me later in my dreams, to confuse me with its nonsense.

Sounds, pictures, colors.

People.

Memories.

Movement.

Collected into nothingness.

This is not who I am. This is not how it all started. This is not where I need to be.

This is where I make my escape.

This is the part where I run.

This is the part where I disappear, deep into the fog, praying I come out alive.

I posted this on my other blog. But only the second half of it.


So here's the whole thing. 

See,

See,

You don’t see

The Dark brings fear

But the night is light to me

Know,

Know

You can’t know

What goes on in my head

Though there’s not much to show..

Fight,

Fight,

I never learned how to fight

It wasn’t given to me to do,

It was mine to stand and hold on tight

Fall,

Fall,

And I don’t know how to fall

How to close my eyes and hold my breath

And pretend, no, know, that nothing’s wrong at all...

Things get done.

That’s just how it goes.

You have your highs, you have your lows

You deal.

You survive.

It is the strength you have as a human…. And it is not enough.

Never enough. 

You are not enough.

A truth. Something that resounds strongly in your head. 

You are not enough.

It hurts, doesn’t it? 

I know, I know it does… You are not enough.

Enough for what?

Enough to live. Enough to survive maybe but you will always break.

Enough for a day, but that’s all it would take. 

There is no way that you can stand.

You are like a sinking land.

There is no place for you to thrive.

And as you are, you know you’re not quite alive…

It’s not my problem.

It never was.

It is yours.

You are not enough. 

Pain, 

I know what that one feels like.

Inadequacy. 

Worthlessness…

You are not enough;

It is the truth.

But it is out of context. 

Standing alone, you feel the burden of knowing that the damage you take, and the damage you do, rests fully upon your shoulders.

The weight of the world.

Your world.

You can’t hold it; who the hell do you think you are to even try?

How dare you?

You pitiful creature… 

Is that what you hear?

I have.

Not like that. Not always so much melodrama.

But that is there.

The pain.

The sentiment behind it.

The knowing, deep inside, how little you are…

That feeling when you look up at the clouds and space and think of all the millions of things that surround you and are overtaking your life and suddenly…

Give up.

It is the only answer. 

Why do you even try?

A truth, again. 

You are not enough.

Why do you keep trying.

It is the truths that condemn.

It is the truths that we end up learning to deny.

This is the way it gets 

Twisted in our heads it gets

Changed around, mangled it gets

Turned around so we learn to 

Name the truth a lie and call the lies our foundation we get

Built up on everything that isn’t real.

It’s time for a change.

Guess what?

You are not enough.

Why do you keep trying?

Give up.

Let it fall where it may.

You can’t hold it up.

So.

Stop.