Onderbroken vrijheid met opgelegde gehoorzaamheid baat bij de oppermachtige, maar de zwakkere wordt opzij geschoven.
Ideeën en gedachten vervlogen met de wind en weggespoeld door vloedgolven van idealisme.
Ideaal - ego - isme
Is ieder niet ideaal in zijn eigenheid?
Waarom is perfectionisme een doel en geen gemiddelde?
Ik ben perfect. Ik ben perfect mezelf.
Geen standaard van één of andere vervlogen maatschappij, maar een persoonlijkheid gevuld met eigen normen, waarden, dromen en ideeën.
IJdelheid maakt een tunnel van onze visie. We kijken te veel boven en onder ons, in plaats van naast ons.
Wie we ook zijn, we zijn perfect onszelf.
Met onze eigen ideeën en talenten.
Wij, zullen eeuwig bestaan.
zaterdag 24 augustus 2013
vrijdag 23 augustus 2013
Naakte totaliteit
Bekijk mensen in hun naakte totaliteit met vormen en rondingen die zelfs golven willen vervolledigen.
Met luidruchtige pigmenten en zwijgzame littekens die verhalen op ons lichaam uitschreeuwen.
Met haren die reiken tot in de wolken en voeten die zich nestelen in die diepe wortels van de ondergrond.
Standvastige flexibiliteit reist door ruimte en tijd, vervolledigd het leven dat wordt opgeslagen in de onvolledige eenzaamheid na het afscheid van zijn naaste.
Met luidruchtige pigmenten en zwijgzame littekens die verhalen op ons lichaam uitschreeuwen.
Met haren die reiken tot in de wolken en voeten die zich nestelen in die diepe wortels van de ondergrond.
Standvastige flexibiliteit reist door ruimte en tijd, vervolledigd het leven dat wordt opgeslagen in de onvolledige eenzaamheid na het afscheid van zijn naaste.
donderdag 22 augustus 2013
Silence
I’m running out of pages to write down the words forever
haunting me
Bleeding on paper with dark blue drops
Losing a staring contest in the mirror
to be defined as shy
Silence, the only cry I can do as loud as I can
No matter where I am
Why doesn't anyone talk?
In words I can rephrase as my own
Why don’t you want me this desperately
You’d bury your teeth into my bone?
Where are you now, princes of the night
Dressed in party armour, empty bottle armed
Where are you now to walk as cross as you speak
Silence, the only blood dropped word I can offer
Without being forgotten.
Bleeding on paper with dark blue drops
Losing a staring contest in the mirror
to be defined as shy
Silence, the only cry I can do as loud as I can
No matter where I am
Why doesn't anyone talk?
In words I can rephrase as my own
Why don’t you want me this desperately
You’d bury your teeth into my bone?
Where are you now, princes of the night
Dressed in party armour, empty bottle armed
Where are you now to walk as cross as you speak
Silence, the only blood dropped word I can offer
Without being forgotten.
maandag 19 augustus 2013
Quiet moments inside.
He looked himself in the mirror as he walked by. It’s a strange
habit he has for when he see’s a reflection of himself he likes to take a quick
glimpse of it. Not because he’s shallow or narcissistic, but to see if there is
any reason at all to be proud of himself.
And like so many times before, he tried again. But the mirror showed what it always showed,
sad blue grayish eyes staring back at him with a burning hope of change. He quickly took his eyes of the mirror and went back into the living room where his roommate was studying in a little corner of the chamber. He stared at his own books and realized he had so much work to do but just couldn't get himself started. ‘Is this all there is to me?’ He wondered when he sat down behind his laptop, wishing it would be a typewriter like they had back in the 1940’s so he could finally start to write this idea he had for quite some time now.
See, he always wanted to be a writer but never really got further than scrabbling little poems in a black notebook he carried around all the time. And when he finally found time to write he’d tell himself that he wasn't ready to tell his story, that it has to be perfect.
He didn't want to disappoint himself. All he wants is to look in the mirror with pride. To look in those blue grayish eyes and tell them that he finally made his own standards which are so impossibly high.
Looking to his empty screen he grabbed his phone that was resting next to his elbow and started to read previous messages he had.
Did he screw that up too? Or was there still hope in that area of his life?
While he scrubbed his eyes back open, refusing them to close for just a second, he typed in a text message that he would never have the courage to send.
After deleting those words of truth from his phone he stared for a quiet moment and whispered ‘coward’, obviously addressed to himself.
He turned off his phone, closed his laptop and dived into his books, hoping not to drown in those words that were forever holding him back.
And like so many times before, he tried again. But the mirror showed what it always showed,
sad blue grayish eyes staring back at him with a burning hope of change. He quickly took his eyes of the mirror and went back into the living room where his roommate was studying in a little corner of the chamber. He stared at his own books and realized he had so much work to do but just couldn't get himself started. ‘Is this all there is to me?’ He wondered when he sat down behind his laptop, wishing it would be a typewriter like they had back in the 1940’s so he could finally start to write this idea he had for quite some time now.
See, he always wanted to be a writer but never really got further than scrabbling little poems in a black notebook he carried around all the time. And when he finally found time to write he’d tell himself that he wasn't ready to tell his story, that it has to be perfect.
He didn't want to disappoint himself. All he wants is to look in the mirror with pride. To look in those blue grayish eyes and tell them that he finally made his own standards which are so impossibly high.
Looking to his empty screen he grabbed his phone that was resting next to his elbow and started to read previous messages he had.
Did he screw that up too? Or was there still hope in that area of his life?
While he scrubbed his eyes back open, refusing them to close for just a second, he typed in a text message that he would never have the courage to send.
After deleting those words of truth from his phone he stared for a quiet moment and whispered ‘coward’, obviously addressed to himself.
He turned off his phone, closed his laptop and dived into his books, hoping not to drown in those words that were forever holding him back.
zondag 18 augustus 2013
When
When is it safe to go to sleep next to her and wake up in that same way?
When is it safe to hold her hand or tease her without pushing her away?
When can I go visit her unexpectedly without running into another me?
Or am I another you?
Is it safe to dream about her laying next to me?
To assume that my lips will be the only ones that will kiss yours?
I get insane thinking about this over and over and over again
If she really really really loves me,
Or if she's just another pretender.
I get lost in my own head trying to lock the way into my heart
So that it won't be stolen again.
I get ruined trying to save myself
that I look past the true reason I need saving for.
When is it safe to assume that we will not be left alone?
That we don't have to worry about losing anymore?
When is it safe to hold her hand or tease her without pushing her away?
When can I go visit her unexpectedly without running into another me?
Or am I another you?
Is it safe to dream about her laying next to me?
To assume that my lips will be the only ones that will kiss yours?
I get insane thinking about this over and over and over again
If she really really really loves me,
Or if she's just another pretender.
I get lost in my own head trying to lock the way into my heart
So that it won't be stolen again.
I get ruined trying to save myself
that I look past the true reason I need saving for.
When is it safe to assume that we will not be left alone?
That we don't have to worry about losing anymore?
maandag 12 augustus 2013
A young man's dream
Gazing into the setting sky
Clouds alter as they go by
Thinking about the life I own
I race the sunset, sick of racing alone
No clue where I stand still I know exactly where I am
Forced to look back to take a step ahead
A blurred view of skies crying leaves me trapped inside
no better option than to go back in and hide
Forced to be home bound, my heart still travels the wind
Swimming the rivers, climbing the trees I shall be free
stretching my arms to take a deep breath
one day this dream shall be reality
But when shall I find the courage to explore
To go on my way looking for more
To finally fly like an eagle insane
Traveling the wind heading north
I shall be unconfined in being
Climbing mountains into the sky
to see those clouds alter
as they slowly go by
Clouds alter as they go by
Thinking about the life I own
I race the sunset, sick of racing alone
No clue where I stand still I know exactly where I am
Forced to look back to take a step ahead
A blurred view of skies crying leaves me trapped inside
no better option than to go back in and hide
Forced to be home bound, my heart still travels the wind
Swimming the rivers, climbing the trees I shall be free
stretching my arms to take a deep breath
one day this dream shall be reality
But when shall I find the courage to explore
To go on my way looking for more
To finally fly like an eagle insane
Traveling the wind heading north
I shall be unconfined in being
Climbing mountains into the sky
to see those clouds alter
as they slowly go by
Abonneren op:
Posts (Atom)