From time to time I hit the same wall,
Regret, return, run back where I've started.
Read the same lines, hear the same sounds,
Every symbol draws my look towards the centre.

Seems each time a bit more faded,
My paint is slowly wearing off.
The pieces combine, but not so brightly,
As before I once with impatience tore them apart.

From time to time I get the same hit,
Regret, renew and act more mature.
See the same signs, go the same way,
Every piece calls my attention to heed them.

Looks each time a bit more random,
The touch of lines come articulate.
These old wounds are, not the last ones,
And soon, I feel the need to hide beneath the edge.

I don't like to choose.
I prefer not to lose.
I don't want to win,
There's no rush I'm in.

I do not like to wait.
I prefer not to hate.
I don't want to remember,
There is no use to play stronger.

I don't accept my twisted logic.
I prefer joy, not pain, it's tragic.
I gained nothing there and it's a shame,
That so much men suffer in vain.

I don't take advice.
I know its severe price.
I could never laugh at wars,
Though it's funny, how far is close.

I don't long for holy fame,
I need no justice, cleansing flame.
I despise revenge, all the like,
The real is enough mess to fight.

This is what will I do, I will sample my most important memories and associate a symbol with them. The symbols will be connected. With each symbol, the actual memory episode can be reached and reconstructed. Registering each moment of life would be unnecessary, but with identifying the key episodes and moments of time and their points in space (that is perceived relatively), the actual life could be copied into another human consciousness.

Quite weird things are these...

Find me, dear death, find me now,
I am not strong enough, I am not afraid enough.

Find me, near death, fight me then,
I am still not weak enough, I am still unprepared.

Find me, bleeding, find me broken,
I am just too wrong to see, I am blinded, I am ill.

Find me...

Maybe hate is just an aspect,
means of time that was or will
do, or spill, eventually, ****
the love we drowned in, remained still...

Maybe hate is another form,
a state of matter, a lapse of reason,
a part of a personal, secret decision,
to save our mind, to protect freedom...

Maybe I have learned to lie
unconsciously to unlearn love,
making excuses to stop,
hoping to run again a year above...

Maybe I've forgotten truth
by will and by a certain choice,
to give my utmost shame a voice,
to take a beating without cause...

Maybe all the time I've known
the difference, but that is, hence
torn up in bitter ignorance'
twisted, deep, black, blissful hands.

Creation is so hard, not even the ease of a whole
Life wasted could give enough pleasure to
Cover up the pain what has to be put into it.

Creation is not for the fine-fueled,
Ones, who play their world goal by goal,
Fight their void deal by deal.

Creation means to always leave enough room
To let them all be destroyed and breathe again.
Single-mindedly be done, and redone, and redone.

I am, too.
I am you when we go through...
The joys and horrors of passion,
The pain unnoticed by a lack of action,
The shame shamelessly felt over the time lost to fake connexion,
The blaze that burns and chokes us, yet we still want: agression,
The never aging ever breeding question:
Why?

I hope, too.
I hoped for too much, hoped like you...
But what to hope for without you, what to lose more, thought?
I hope that once the thought will cry as not the one that fell apart
Anyhow I just fought me when I hurt you and myself hard...
The more I hope the less I live, let this peaceful end turn to art!
But not that kind I used to will, not what steals, but tears a heart.
And how I still fall deep in dread holding onto the one last shard.
Wake up!

I try, too.
I tried so hard, but not with you...
In my past, goals were set easy, I even had more own choices.
You, a bright and playful mind, made good fun of ill-eerie voices.
Lazyness denounced us; yet we found: we still gain chances.
Trying hard was not an option, fights were in fact, pretty dances.
At one time or yet another, the game of life turned ruthless.
The first blows didn't even harm, but you became their witness.
Try again, fear not, improve!

I love, too.
I loved and worked with what you knew...
And love must sometimes has to bring its darker nature;
I always knew the only way to see new life is mature.
Too little were we to grasp then, how it will cause torture...
The first real thing you got to feel was withdrawal. Erasure.
All love came free, unrestrained, youth and beauty did a favor.
But no true love lasts, nor even sparks, innocent, creature.
Beware, accept refusal!

I hate, too.
I hated none once, haven't you?
We got them right first all the time.
Or second, third, in some next rhyme.
At one time, you were due to fail. I'm inerrant, how is this mine?
No, failure is never mine! We have lost and they did fine!
Hate is not so easy when you loved, as love, without a crime.
It creeps and piles up slowly in the ill-fed soul, like grime.
Forget, forgive!

I give, too.
I gave too little, gave too soon.
Or give too late and no love, hate or even a simple notice made.
Even ancient people saw that life, chemistry: they're about trade.
Give, take, count, prepare, we should have had learnt earlier...
Make, develop, mind, matter, we really should do this better!
I gave when asked, but afraid to ask, to give enough: I can never.
I gave what I got, shall I do just what I could if I must, forever?
Give, love and never give up!

I act, too.
I swear I do, just in case I excuse you...
I take actions, I say words, both are mighty, each one works.
I use language, I have thought, I may sound scary, I may scold.
Changes, in turn, demand patience, lots of actions, a good hold.
You, my dear mind, only you may make us walk the right way.
Think straight and wise when taking action, seize a fine day!
And when in need or a big excess, act quickly, make use, express.
Just act well and do work fine!

I die, too.
I die too, some day I'll die with you.
I am a spirit, but also a droid, a body, a vessel, a thinking fluid.
I am a being, trapped in samsara with a conscious ego and id,
And something above, all my brothers, fellow men and others,
Our selves live within others we know and they live in ours.
All my memories have parts of them within a universal they,
And finally I shall fade away, my actions call my life a day.
Live true, die happy!

I live, too.
I lived long and you minded me...
Who you are is all you do, say, write, love or hate, so choose!
Come together, be alone, do the homework, answer the phone!
Make your dreams work, to live your dream, make friends!
Come back home again, make love, live life, make sense!
Listen well, play music, enjoy games, don't panic, just dance!
Know us, know them, be yourself bravely, everyone will love it!
Maybe. ;)