before all became crooked,
i was low down in the streets, with no way to sleep.
i could feel and need and see everything beyond me-
always remaining beyond.
sometimes i can still see that horizon,
with it's dark red finishing, and it's light gold centers.
i crave to be beyond too, but that's just too low to seep to again.
too demeaning, degrading- to go back.
but where are we now?
i'm a stone cold liberator, only for myself.
dreams in gold seems always floating right passed my eye sight.
a birds eye view, focused only on a few minor gray areas-
but one blink and they're gone, and i'm sinking so low.
again and again and again;
oh, crisis, go back to bed again.
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your words....in that feeling again, to read it.Every single time.So deep in it's meaning.So deep in everyway.But always I get that feeling that they represent something 'bout your sadness or somethin like that.
ReplyDeleteI wish I could be more specific, but I don't have 100% control of the english language.I sux sometimes.Even though it feels to me that is more than a pleasure to read this.Makes any sense? don't know.
it sounds so poethic, in a way that I can only imagine but never turn it into words."the dark red finishing" a birds eye view, focused only on a few minor gray areas that gone with a blink...
even the title "a line allows progress, a circle does not"...so much to say about these words.In every word there's kinda another world.
To end it all, I'm glad to read it all.