Thursday, February 10, 2005

Leather Strap Watch

Coffee smells hint about the still night air,
The essence of sweet yet strong,
Poise and sorrow,
Nothing but a yonder light,
Shimmering in his eyes,

What different aspects of life one see's,
When looking through another's eye,
The vision's of sound through the blind man's heart,
The shrills of color through the deaf man's brain,
The ambience about us scattered all around,
Not one thing to grab onto as I plunge toward the ground,

Heart beat getting faster,
The deadline getting near,
Never had such feelings,
Nothing held so dear,
Brain playing games,
Mind playing tricks,
One more try,
Another Pixie Stick,

The candy of tomorrow,
The problems of today,
I wish the day's were longer,
I wish how time could stay,

Even past the trials,
One step farther than the fears,
I'll never lose the feelings,
I have held onto for many years,
I'm not known for my conscience,
Nor renound for all my snears,
But I pray you bid me this,
Hold on throughout the years,

Colors blue and yellow,
Red and black won't do,
Friend's are for forever,
Unless things never bloom,

Bring out your fascination's,
Never hide them in,
Time is of the essence,
And essence is drawing near,

Spinning in circles,
The man walked straight to and fro,
But when challeneged to do it steady,
He sloppily staggered...

lost my train... left the station....

my day was odd... weird... cool... and.. interesting all in one little taco sized package.

I'm dead right now, I really feel like crap... I have a headache, a stomach ache... I just feel like crap.. please be better tomorrow... please....

Random Thought of The Day:

... Blank feelings running in and out, Blank feelings running in and out...
Blank faces staring at me, Blank stares glaring at me, Blank smiles on non-existant faces,
What a wonderful world are these hollow blank spaces,
What a precious place are the jagged red pages,
Of the books torn to hell with the annotated things,
And the spikey colored rings, Scattered with the scars from a thousand prying eyes,
Trampled pieces of art, with a million dead sighs...
Dead.

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