There's nothing that I ''could have'' or ''should have'' done.
I learn what doesn't work everyday from yesterday.
A new day to ''could'' maybe ''should''.
But it's ok.
I tried everything it seems.
Sometimes I fly but most of the time I'm bound in a chamber of despair.

Being understanding kind and nice does not always pay.
Telling yourself over and and over: They must be having a hard day.
Life is unkind and people don't mind.

Usually most people really don't mind unless it's about what they can do.
Life is so unkind and people most of the time are too.
And it makes no sense what they say to me about how they care when a duck dies.
But when a young person becomes homeless nobody cries.
Yet they tell me they think every life is so precious but some people are always fighting.
Trying to do the right thing.

But it doesn't pay.
It's just another hard and terrible day.
Where you have no control and love is impossible to find.
Life is unkind and people don't really mind.
When you've seen it you will find and you can feel it when you see it.
When you've known it and how it can hit.

So then maybe you can understand.
But then it kills you when you give someone a hand.
Because you know in the end you'll have to let go.
You can't, you can't save everybody.
Some people are born to always feel lonely.

Being understanding kind and nice does not always pay.
Telling yourself over and and over: They must be having a hard day.
Life is unkind and people don't mind.

Trying to be understanding and kind.
But nobody seems to understand it is what you'll find.
Loving, understanding, caring, always daring to fight so hard.
For the people you care for, don't fall apart and together try some more.

Holy sea of waves that we're running into.
Holy sea, uncontrollable, terribly hard, incredibly magical, fresh, pretty salty and blue!
It doesn't always pay.
But play.
Play in the water, hold each other.
In the water.
Play in the waves...

Why don't you take this key and stop taking life so seriously?  
Open the box of surprises, you'll find so many great fun prices.
Careful but not too careful,  and life won't be hard but never dull.
Stupid old soul taking life way too seriously, why why?
Haven't you learned it's all a fun try try?
Oh what a relaxing fun surprise.
If you don't take it seriously it can be a little nice.
Sometimes...

When the universe gently pushes these songs into your life.... Child, you got to survive.
Eat your lettuce with salt and pepper.
Die die die inside!
Swallow swallow swallow all of your pride!

Spread your legs.
And lay those eggs.
No regrets cause you gotta make them proud and glad.
Your little naked chubby body on the bed.

Cute cute cuty.
Rare crazy beauty.
Pout your lips and touch your skin.
You are so tender, just surrender.
You will never really win!

Spread your arms.
Cling on to these charms.
And no resting your head.
You gotta find ways till you're dead.

When the universe gently pushes these songs into your life.
Child, you got to survive.
Eat your bread with salt and pepper.
Dead dead dead inside!
Stare stare stare at your dissaster left behind!

Ah ah ah. That does not feel right!

Every big sound is like an attack.
Every moment waking is grieving.
Grieving that little peace I had found.
I don’t know what’s going on.
And how you are feeling, my love.
I’m scared so I run to the dark.
Trying to feel save.

Why am I breathing in your smoke?
Coughing till I choke.
Why am I always hearing you talk?
I live here.
But it’s not living cause there’s no escaping.
Your noise, your voice.

Sometimes I force my cramped up body to crawl.
Only in music I can make this possible. Understand my tears, they are streaming from the top of my head boiling, steaming, streaming.
I wish I could make you feel the hurt in my screaming!

Why am I forced to feel your **** when you smoke?
My body turning ****** till I choke.
Hours of horror.
What day is it?
What day was this sensitive guy going to die?
I read he’ll die this Friday.
Finally all his pain, horror and torture floating away.
I will wave his ship goodbye.

But can I stay behind as my friends are keeping me around the finish line?
It’s over but we’re having another bag of crisps and maybe even another little glass of wine.
Why am I still breathing?
Forcing this body that is never leaving...

I’ll tell myself over and over: it will come, that moment of peace.
Sometimes lying to myself makes my lie come true.
Cause I’ll have peace in the lie.

But this life is hard.
My body is not a peaceful place, this world mostly isn’t either.
But I have so much luck with the people that are here with me.

So sometimes I lie to myself to find peace.
Because I want it to work.
With them and for them for as long as I can.

It was 1988.
I wasn't even born and he was already grey.
When I watch him now I'm falling in love.

His voice, his eyes, the way he seems to use his sexuality to calmly sing with charm.
His wisdom that I wonder sometimes if he himself even knew exactly what it meant.
He mentioned that a lot of times: he'd go there more often if he knew where the good songs came from.
He gives me answers to my questions or calms me while I'm anxious from the hell I was placed in.
4 years after 1988.
I would have fallen in love and hugged him if he hadn't died before I was able to appreciate his holy words.
His deep yet soft sounding voice, the melodies, the beat in my ears as I'm walking down the street.
Or when I run to the trees.
And the man I love who looks a bit like you Leonard Cohen, he can also relate to you but not always very well to how I feel.

It was 1988.
I wasn't even born and you were already grey.
When I watch you now I'm falling in love.

So at least I have your voice to run into.
Maybe some time I'll hear it clearly next to me.
But I won't follow any voice that sounds like you, I'd just listen to what I feel.
I know that now.
You helped me through.

It was 1988.
I wasn't even born and he was already grey.
When I watch him now I'm falling in love.

Leonard Cohen with your twinkling eyes, knowing about the chains, the pain the intense aching and the lies.
Years already, long before these times.
If you can die then so can I.
If you can die then I'm sure so can I.

It was 1988.
I wasn't even born and he was already grey.
When I watch him now I'm falling in love.

Years go by, they seem so long and feel so wrong.
Nothing's ever working like you've stated yourself as well.
Many years of aching always living with this burden and the constant battles coming.
Coming and coming.
Hell till the world seems darker.
And then there's your voice and your words to express some parts of what is playing out around me here.
Inside me now, deep and real.
Pain of trying to **** off these things that are happening that are torturing.

It was 1988.
I wasn't even born and he was already grey.
When I watch him now I'm falling in love.

Leonard Cohen, do you listen to me too?
Or have you moved on now?
How would I know where to find you, there could be anything doing a good job at pretending to give me answers.
So I hope you found your way.
Your true place.
Your true way.

While I'm still taking you with me right here on mine.
I'm still taking you with me along the way.
As I'm locked up in the night and in my walking through the day.
My cold body and lonely feeling soul with the wrong energy from nothing ever helping me to exist in my own way.
But anyway, nevermind, thanks a lot and see you around.
Feel you around, Leonard Cohen, you've been great, you've done a lot, done your part.
Hope to find you somewhere at some place but I'm still taking you with me as I'm going, always.

Watching you now and it was 1988.
I wasn't even born and you were already grey.
When I watch you now I'm falling in love.

To all the teachers in the world, which is everybody:
Teachers are never done learning either just because they became a teacher.
Let me draw you a being that represents how I’m feeling.
I want it to be over.
I want to rest.
So so bad.

Oh the pink, the purple, the white, the blue.
And you.
We are a team, me and you.

Nothing actually works.
But I got those written words that I must share.
And where?
Where around the universe will my energy be spread?
When it is finally over.
Around here.

Oh the pink, the purple, the white, the blue.
And you.
We are a team, me and you.

I will not forget the horrors of this world that nobody deserves to ever experience ever again.
I shall do whatever it takes to end it somehow.
A meaningful war of energy caused by too much pain for one human life.
It cannot ever happen to anyone ever again.
It must not!

Oh the pink, the purple, the white, the blue.
And you.
We are a team, me and you.

To life: break me, I’m ready.
Now break me completely.
I've learned to see things from many angles.
But I never found the desired one.
I want to be with the pleiadians.

Oh the pink, the purple, the white, the blue.
And you.
We are a team, me and you.

This beautiful cover of a song from Cocteau Twins takes me away.
Lets me know it's ok.
There will be another place and face.
Wherever I shall go.

Oh the pink.....
Oh the purple.....
Oh the white.....
Oh the blue.....
And you.....
We are a team.....
Me and you.....

I went on my bike following the red thread.
Just like every other day, the one thing I ever had.
And so I went and the water next to me got so wavy.
And so dark, darker than darkest blue navy.

It won't cover me here cause there's no burning suffering.
When the red thread is covering my skin.
I can just keep on cycling.
Always singing.
About how I won't be ok.
It's not alright and it can never be fine.
Still this moment is always mine following the red line.

I went on my bike cycling and singing.
That is always ok.
So the burning will finally stop stinging.
Like every single day.

Suffering from life, the pressure.
Crying day. 💧
Spiders crawling.
During the day, in my dreams.
On the floor.
Like me.

I love to pretend that everything is fine.
Like a moment of silence, a dark corner, a song.
I see a painting of a woman crying.
Big drops.

I meet nice people when I sleep.
I go under the water.
I take things as they come.

Hidden behind grave stones I watch the people walking.
Crying.
People losing everything being locked up in their prisons.

And the love and hope that keeps them going.
From a distance.

Love is traveling from one place to the next.
To where it belongs.
And it can never stay alive.

Only in death.
Everything is fine.

Like a moment of silence in the dark.
Like a song in your playlist that comes along telling you: it’s alright.

It’s hard to trust in fate when you’re stuck between the start and the progress.
Stuck in a mess, a broken life.

It will fall into place eventually but first you have to fall with it.
Hopelessly, not knowing where you’ll land.
Life is not just outcomes.
It’s filled with inbetween states that are so painful and exhausting.

Trying to trust in fate inbetween.
Are you ever even ending up anywhere that feels ok?
Always in the inbetween, falling slowly into the world where you’ll need to be.
Next for a while before it will all start to change and eventually all fall again.

Hard to keep building when everythings keeps falling.
Even when you’re trying everything, the foundation was unstable from the beginning.

And it will be like that, as long as you’re stuck in this lifetime.
There’s always something not right
You will be destroyed slowly, painfully.
Fighting in the inbetween or upside down spaces.

And when you don’t have to do it alone anymore it might be even harder with someone else.

I noticed a moment of silence.
So I drowned myself in it.
But then the noise came back.
And now I’m drowning in pain.
Can’t escape.
I tried but I want to stop trying.
I want it all to stop.
I want to drown.
Forever and not wake up from the dreams.

You called me darling.
Last night.
I want another night.
Another dream.
Another deep sleep.
And actually I wish I could stay there…

This world hasn’t been made for people like me to relax.
The music from the neighbors hurts my muscles and my neck.
My head and back.
I want to run.
There’s no escape.
Death is so happy but so scary.
I’m scary too think the people that are looking at me outside.
And I want to feel happy.
Running free.
Just like the storm that I was crying in last Wednesday.
I came out with dark lines around my eyes.
Slowly I crawled back up into your arms which are always ready.
Therefore I’m lucky.

I can’t live but I have to.
There’s just no other way.
As long as you’re fighting so hard and needing me.
As long as my place to live is open for view.
Although there’s no way that I can live.

It’s cruel but I’m not allowed to say it.
Only to the ones that know and feel it everyday.
Like me cause it’s too much.
Like a slave to life.
Cause whatever I do I’ll end up in hell.
Whatever I try, whatever we try.
It’s a nightmare and even worse.

It’s hell and even worse.
You are the ghost and I’m the zombie.
And our parents are slaves behind the massive broken machines.
Working to keep them running.

Just to stay alive.
Cause there’s just no other way.
As long as you’re fighting so hard and needing me.
As long as our place is open for view.
Although there is no way of living in there.

Bye bye, I just want to die.
I’m eating myself but I’ll never ever be satisfied in here.
Is there a place where I can feel save?
Is there a time for me to feel free?
Can I let go, really fall backwards?
Nobody believes the fall when they see it.
I’ll just be dropping down in the middle of the street.
But instead of being injured I’ll burst into a thousand pieces.
And nobody would find them.
It keeps on happening.
Almost every day.

Bye bye, I just want to die!
But instead I break, I shake, I fly in a thousand pieces.
And at night I drop down but not to rest well, just to collect the pieces.
As well as I can.
Nobody can find me.
Sometimes somebody finds a piece.
Thank you so much, let me give you this one.
Be gentle please but just fly with me.
In the end we say: bye bye.

I just want to die.
Nice to be out of this feeling for some time.
Everyone can only have a piece, never fully me.
And there are too many pieces flying and falling around now.
I don’t know where I can go.
I have no save place.
Feed me freedom.
I’m starving.
I’m lying all around the cold floor.
Nobody can see.
They’re just walking on like me in this mess.
I’m the mess, my world is in pieces all the time.
I can’t collect myself.
I’m flying around.
You can’t hold me, keep me ever, anywhere, inside, outside, upside down.
Bursting all the time.
Bye bye, I just fly, bye bye, I just want to die.

But all the pieces keep flying and I’m never ready to find them and burry them all.
I’m so tired.
I can’t hide.
I can’t find the pieces inside to stop myself from flying.
To finally say: bye bye, I’m just gonna die!

Dragging myself outside, heavy neck and eyelids.
Music let's me fly.
You can fly with your eyes closed.
I float untill my body hits the ground.

Let's find some meaning.
Exhaustion made me shallow.
All I seek for is some true connection.
Is that what you are?
Or is all you've ever been just another ace.
To keep me fighting.
Another ace in front of my face.
No longer will I cover up this truth reaching for anything.
Let's find some meaning.

I know it was me, I became so tired while feeling like it would never be right.
I gave it all and lost my own true feeling.
Maybe it was all too much to bare so I stopped to care.

And now I only want to care, I want it to matter.
If I have to live and I have to surrender.
Let it at least have meaning.
Not be nothing!

Let's find some meaning.
A deeper connection.
Not some stupid useless other kind of conversation.
Is that what you are?
Is all you've ever been just another ace.
To keep me fighting.
Another ace in front of my face.
No! No longer will I cover up this truth reaching for anything.
Let's find some meaning.

I know it can feel so lonely if you've been fighting a battle no one has seen.
People talking like they have never been at any of all the places you have been.
They may not be your deep connection or your soulmate family.

I only want to care, I want it to matter.
If I have to live and I have to surrender.
Let it at least have meaning.
Not be nothing!

Let's find some meaning.
Let's find some healing.
Let me feel it even though I'm exhausted.
Is that how you are?
I have to be here so let my time not be wasted.
Let's not keep on hiding.
And not be aces in front of each other's faces.
No longer covering up this truth reaching for just anything.
Let's find some meaning.

I don’t like the days and I don’t like the nights.
I only like parts.
I want to enter the part where I enter dreamland.
Forever.
Even while awake later.
Just outside flying with the wind.
No distraction.
Being what I want to be.
For once and for all.
I want peace and dreams.
In the dark and sometimes in the light too.
But not too light, I became allergic to light.
Cause this life has left me burning and not able to face the brightness of another difficult day.
And the sounds are so horrific that they take my soul to leave it lost in space.
And my body cannot move.
It’s lying there still.

I roll my eyes at everything
Even at my bed that’s never comfy
I took all the pain meds I was allowed to take.
And walked away.
Rolling my eyes at the leaves dancing.
Come on man with the van, stop whistling!

Too tired, overwhelmed, numb, depressed.
In pain, aching, heavy.
Just moving one foot before the other.
Pretending to be floating with the music.
Like I’m not there.

Restless.
The unknown and the very familiar knocking on your door.
Everyday.
Forcing you to have them make their way through.
You.
Breathing in and out, you try to be one with everything around you.
Wind.
Thinking the rain would be refreshing but today you can’t smell a thing.
Walking.
So restless and no control so having to surrender and give in.

To everything.
To everything, sometimes it gets so old to be dealing with the same things.
And not knowing if they will be what you hoped they would be.

So nice to just be able to be in the moment.
So nice to be able to share it.
So nice to have it all for yourself and not care whoever else is there.

Sing.
Breathing, or just making noises that you’re feeling like making.
Moving.
Not fighting your body in moving and movements in moments.
Cuddling.
Under a sheet and really loving somebody, their body.
Noticing.
And smiling and strechting, take a little breather.
Waking.
You know you’ve been through the night and there’s a new beginning.

Always hard and not very interesting and somebody will be taking your place.
Whether you’re rushing, stressing or forced to be resting.
Always starting over and over but oh, sometimes these moments...
They feel, taste, smell and look just so amazing.

And so you’re jumping and floating into the unknown or the very familiar.
And you’re opening the door.
Oh please, just open up that door.
I’m knocking...
I know you hear me.

Don't we all have our own little black books in here in which we attempt to write the pain away?
When I saw the new girl sitting in the garden all exhausted with hers in front of her, I ran upstairs.
I have no energy to meet another who writes her pain and plan down in a little black book.
No, I'll leave you alone.
Alone with your black book.
And I'll be in here writing too.
Upstairs or in the basement where I found out where they keep the clean white coats.
Nobody will see the stories.
Nobody can explain the journey.
I just hope you'll get some mercy.
Cause I've never seen any mercy.
Even while dreaming.
But the dreams do keep me going.
I have to still keep going.
Don't we all have to still keep going?
Don't we all need a little black book?
Do you also feel frozen and stuck deep inside your body?
Constantly?
Doesn't it get too heavy?
Like for me every day.
I won't ask you today.
I don't want to know the answer.
I have no breath left to respond.
And maybe you don't either really.
So I run upstairs.
And close the curtains to the garden and lay my head down on the chair.
The chair I wish I had when my bag of helium filled itself with oxygen when I wasn't sitting up straight enough so I didn't die.
And now in here I can't get helium.
And I wasn't approved for euthanasia either.
I lost my place to live because of trying, three times because of the situation.
Homeless.
Can you see what's wrong with this system?
Fighting for euthanasia, having dates planned already.
But the doctor to do the final check did not approve.
The second one didn't either.
But then one did after trying a few more treatments but they thought he was too willing.
Then the next one didn't either and so the case was closed.
The Netherlands, euthanasia, it's not working at all.

?A question mark tattooed on my forehead.
Still so many questions.
Why is it so difficult to live but even so much harder to die???
And you’ll remain a dream to me.
But I’m gonna enjoy every bit of it.?

Sound moves
Sound moves things
Movements
Movements make sound
Sounds like a movement
Movements to a sound

Death, I’ve been there.
How did I end up here?
I will go back.
But never go back here.
No way.
Will we meet somewhere?
I love your skin.
Not mine.
I love your bed.
Never mine.
I can’t sleep with you.
Only when you stay awake.
When I wake up you are tired.
You sleeping is me leaving.
To another bed, never comfy.
I love resting with you.
Never on my own.
Don’t let me have these lonely evenings.
Restless nights.
Terrifying issues.
Let me escape them.
I can’t keep walking.
Aimlessly.

By Martin Ehlert & Sharon Miedema

Zelfs de dood heeft een moeder.   Even death has a mother.
Iemand die zorgd voor de dood.   Somebody who is taking care of
                                                             death.
Of haar kind sterft te vroeg.           Or has death take her child away
                                                             from her.
Je einddatum staat al gegraveerd. Your death date's already been
                                                             engraved.
Je kan het zelf nog niet zien staan. Though you can't see it.
Pas wanneer je klaar bent.               Only when it is your time.
Niet eerder en niet later.                  Not any sooner, any later.

Part of me feels so much like I should’ve died years ago.
The other part knows that I wasn’t supposed to cause the mess was too great even to leave it behind.
So the mess became a large deep pit of information with me dancing in it.
Till I could finally find a way to shoot myself above all that.

Broken soul over and over.
Still expected to be fighting.
No peace at all or sleeping.
It hurts to be a magical demon.

Unable to escape the noises again so a headache and the magic is gone.
Unable to sleep from the discomfort and sounds, bed on its side.
Stuck in pain, stuck in feelings, stuck in thoughts.
Magical magical demon doing the most.
To fight off the ghost.

But nothing matters when everything is wrong so the ghost and ocd can all come triggering me.
Whatever, eat me, break my soul all over again.
Even though I tried to maintain myself in this plan.
Apparently nothing works so let me be a magical demon.

I stare at the moon, standing on a bridge singing.
Somebody tells me not to keep on looking.
Too late, I was already hawling, my eyes were already hurting, head was already burning...

Sometimes when I look back it’s all so magical.
That’s why I’m a magical demon called Syonide because I tried and I tried and I tried.
I just see everything falling and I only hear a young woman screaming.

A young woman who I was never able to save from everything happening.
So it had to be happening cause nothing is fair.
You are such a strong young woman but there’s nothing you and I can do.
Nothing to protect you or me from horror, terror and not being able to live but always be trying, trying, trying, crying, dying but not really, but trying, trying, trusting, caring, breaking, shaking, crying, flickering...

Magical demon taking Syonide.
Trying.

Overwhelmed staring.
I kept on resting this morning. Your energy is so lovely just like yesterday. And like last night. I didn’t even worry about sleep. Slept enough anyway in the end after a fight here and there. In me, everlasting overwhelming stare. And you make me want to continue the fight while I know it’s not alright. Only for a while and another....

It’s hard to trust in fate when you’re stuck between the start and the progress.
Stuck in a mess, a broken life.

It will fall into place eventually but first you have to fall with it.
Hopelessly, not knowing where you’ll land.
Life is not just outcomes.
It’s filled with inbetween states that are so painful and exhausting.

Trying to trust in fate inbetween.
Are you ever even ending up anywhere that feels ok?
Always in the inbetween, falling slowly into the world where you’ll need to be.
Next for a while before it will all start to change and eventually all fall again.

Hard to keep building when everythings keeps falling.
Even when you’re trying everything, the foundation was unstable from the beginning.

And it will be like that, as long as you’re stuck in this lifetime.
There’s always something not right
You will be destroyed slowly, painfully.
Fighting in the inbetween or upside down spaces.

And when you don’t have to do it alone anymore it might be even harder with someone else.

I can't be who I want to be in here.
Feeling too much and then nothing.
Hurting, only hurting and suffering.
Numbing overwhelming.

Trying to make sense of things while fighting in this dazzling darkness.
Let me go back to how it used to be.
A time where I felt like I was albe to be myself as a piece of universal love.
And to love you.
Or else I don't know why I can't leave this world.

I can't be who I want to be in here.
Feeling too much and then nothing.
Hurting, only hurting and suffering.
Numbing overwhelming.

Hold me like you understand.
Or else just let me leave.
I might as well move on forever, find love beyond here.
And be there for the ones that I care about.
Finding truth, finding myself, being a piece of universal love.

Without hurting eyes and a hurting mind.
Singing my way through the tunnels and the worlds beyond this place that's hurting.
How would I know to be ready when I don't know what it feels like?

Can't I just love you again and pretend it's all alright?
No, because it's not and it will never be.
So let me go!

I can't be who I want to be in here.
Feeling too much and then nothing.
Hurting, only hurting and suffering.
Numbing overwhelming.

I need peace or death.
Maybe both.
First peace and then death.
Let me slowly drift off into a different world.
Where there’s no constant pulling or pushing on your body and torture.
In the mind, the soul, the heart, the eyes, the ears, the muscles, the skin.
Let me sleep and know it’s over.
I made it.
To the other side after all.
After all these nights and all these different tests and teachings.
Not just useless torturing being left behind.
It’s time to find some spirit guides.
Take me on a boat and let me sail with you.
See the moon so blue and bright with the stars shimmering.
And when I close my eyes I’m floating, leaving the demon body.
Smiling at how it’s lying there and I am free to go.

To the other side.
Syonide.
To the other side.
Syonide.
To the other side Syonide.

Dead on demand wil be the name of my band.
When I'm reborn and my friends are too.
A different universe where our dreams come true.
Not like in here.
Where every phone call is bad news that you don't want to hear.

We will be free because we went through hell in here first.
We know not to be too ecstatic cause we'd known the thirst.
When everything goes right we know what every type of wrong feels like.
Everything will be completely turned upside down and ruled by music and magic.
Love is rather ecstatic.

In here it's dark when I wake and all the people are separated.
In their own space dealing with their own pain.
Dead on demand is something that could never really be honorated.
***, it's gone on too long! Learning from every disaster but disaster will always remain!

We will be free!
Dead on demand flying to the colourful sea.
Reborn with your friend.
Dead on demand will be the name of my band!
It will never be like it is in here.
Where every phone call is bad news that you don't want to hear.

We will be free because we went through hell in here first.
We know not to be too ecstatic cause we'd known the thirst.
When everything goes right we know what every type of wrong feels like.
Everything will be completely turned upside down and ruled by music and magic.

Love is rather ecstatic.
Love is rather right.
Love is a feeling like you never felt before.
Love is rather ecstatic.
Love is better than magic!

It happens too easily these days...
I end up with a mustache or a teardrop.
Together they're too much but none is not enough.
Crying over love or pressure.
Never both.
Never together at the same time.
Living in solitude.
Among the other lost ones that sometimes forget how lost they are.
Escaping in the walk to the grocery shops.
Or the drilling through the walls.
The brick walls that have holes now.
At least it's warm outside...
At least the sun is shining today.
But I'm thinking as I'm sitting: what am I still doing?  Still being.
I need to go somewhere to find something else.
Or else I'm a dead woman every day.
Taken away by everything.
Too much.
A quirky little mustache.
A pretty little tear.
A dancing in the street.
A song on the staircase.
Real true love.
Too much pressure.
Too much.
Mustache!

Letting go.
It can’t get to me.
Everything dies.
And what’s left is me.
What I want.
Where I am.
The place I created.
The love for people, places and sounds.
Stripped down.
Still a creature.
I’m everything.
Yet nothing lasting.
Yet never dying.
Always changing.
But my love remains.

I keep on hurting you and I’d rather want to die.
But dying is not an option.
Should I leave?
It will break me again.
But staying might break both of us too.
But leaving means dying for me.

We're all working towards something that's happening later.
Yet it already happened in a timeless realm.
Animals, people, plants... always planning for the future in some way.
Preparing something, for something.
But not constantly and not in every way, just during the night and day.
While creating, escaping, loving we're free, in the moment.
But still we're made to prepare, anticipate, work on ''the future''.
The future that already happened.
It's divine design.
Designed for each individual creature.
Created between stars and planets through time.
And when time's up, it's over around here.

When you got more tears behind you than ahead the little things become more painful.
The bigger stuff you’re used to already.
And when you’re tired everything seems useless again because the big fights are done.
You just want peace but the war is still inside.
You just want a good time but everything is dull. 😪😵

Everybody is exhausted, one way or another.
Organizing brings more choas.
How do others work, I wonder.

No space in a day, escaping your body.
If it's still worth it you're considered lucky.
Hold on, hold me, time to get cozy.
Rushing so my feelings are behind me.

But I am on fire, shaking and staring.
Losing oversight.
No comfort at night.

So I write it all down cause it won't get done.
One by one.
One step at the time getting dizzy and confused.
How do you see through all the stuff you have used?

Cleaning and moving and changing.
It's a lot of re-arranging.
Is it living or just doing without feeling?

Head exploding, losing energy, any form of capacity.
To even begin to explain what's happening.
People never have nothing to do, always busy.
Overwhelming.

People are the energy like a star.
People are.
People shoot into the air.
And wish to stay there,

But moving is a part of living.
It's a part of everything.
Just keep on managing.

It's a lot.
Keep on smiling.
It's a lot.
Keep on managing.
Till you're not.

Some people move while standing still.
Managing until.
Smiling.
Managing.
Engaging.

I'm sitting here in front of you.
With all these tears streaming.
That you're not even seeing.
Or choose not to see.
Blue white and black.
Look inside of my world.
If you care, if you dare.
Don't tell me that I'm a baby.
Though I may cry like one.
Hysterically.
Do you know why?
Why babies cry in that way?
Because they were ripped away from their homes.
And I still feel it all the time.
Baby come home.....

I was falling apart.
Every day.
I started falling for you.

I didn't know where to pick the pieces from.
Pieces to give, to show, to live.
I gathered some.

But once they fell again you treated me like a child.
A child that knocked over its block tower.
Like I was stupid for doing so.

Not noticing I was falling apart and tripped.
That's why I hit the blocks.
The black blocks of this tower.

It was fragile like me and made to fall.
Like me.
But each block is too strong to break.

Maybe there were just too many to keep this fragile tower standing.
And maybe if you looked you would have noticed.

But you were never taught to look and always too busy to see.
No one is to blame.

But now I'm lying here with these pieces everywhere all by myself.
Not knowing where to pick these pieces from again and again.....
Why won't you see?
I wish I could swim so I'd be floating.

No need for building, not need for holding, if it rains blocks I'll dive under.
Meet me there.

You would love me.
Now you don't cause I'm too much, I can't get it together, whatever.
Can't keep trying to find pieces to give, pieces to show, pieces to live.
**** these blocks up into a deep black hole and let me swim.
I'm falling apart.
Every day.▪️◾️◼️⬛️

Waking up from a banging sound with an aching head after going back to bed.
Too anxious for more sleep.

So getting up for tea.
And a shower.

Hopefully today will still be ok.
But it’s never easy.
Trying and being in the moment is key.
Hoping for a better time.

Loving the moments and people that make it worthwhile.
At least for a while.

Sometimes I realise what’s going on.
And I see myself looking all crazy.
I know why and never cared.
Is crazy wrong?
Is wrong wrong?

Sometimes I realise what’s happening.
But I’m wondering why I’m still here too.
Sometimes I know, sometimes I really don’t.
And it’s hurting.
And it’s not stopping.

Sometimes I wonder why I had to live so many lives to realise what’s going on.
So many lives in one.
Still loving.
Finally found my perfect match as I was giving up on life again.

Wishing for so many things.
Yet not really caring if they happened or not anymore.
But the whishes have come true.
And still I’m suffering, not caring if I died tomorrow or next year.
But now you’re here and so I’m fighting for something.

Again, like I wished....✨⭐️💫🌟
Red Jaspis.
Blood dragon stone.
Ora lilith.
Swords and bows.
Vikings, mages, gunman, elves.
Living together.

Losing faith is fun.
It makes me want to dance with you.
And use rubber tubes as straws.
And just drink water.
Cause nothing feeds me actually.
The combination of you and Cocorosie is so good.
And everything else is so bad.
And we're smiling as we're hawling.
You made fun of everything when I told you everything went wrong.
Oh, I love you so much.
Even when you don't stop talking and my head explodes.
No wait, I hate you then.
Whatever….
Losing everything is fun.

You take the “full me” willingly.
You teach me how to love this way.
To accept things being different than you expect because of love.
And now that is the only way for me to keep going, move forward.
And you accept me in the way I do so cause you know it is the hardest thing for me.
To just go on.
Every day again.
And so you let me be as I am.
In your life, in your space, you just take each day as it comes.
As I still can’t most of the time.
Can’t find peace in the music from the neighbours, the thoughts that keep me busy, the pressure.
But you let me work it out and hold me.
You let me talk and talk things through with me.
Taking it all fully.
Willingly loving.

My name is Sora Sore.
I can't take it anymore.
My eyes are drowning deep.
I couldn't get no sleep.
My neck is in a knot.
And it hurts a lot.

I'm too messed up like my mattress.
But I can play a role, I'm an actress.
And I like it, it's not an act when I'm in it.
Especially when I sing it.

But it burns on my head.
Every day and night in bed.
I've been hanging around like a zombie.
A living dead combi.
I can't take it no more.
I am Sora and I am so so so sore.

Wearing my body.
Wearing it out completely.
I carry it to my grave.
Tossing it through another wave.

Please don't judge me for getting affected.
For being on this earth but not really connected.
Laying inbetween too worlds and painful sensations.
The creatures poking at my skin, the latest manifestations.

The earth can have my body back.
I'm am Sora and I crack.
I'm a zombie.
A living dead combi.

I'm ok.
Just another day.
I'm Sora Sore.
Just a little bit more.
Sora Sore.
Until I'm not there no more.

Nothing around you is working out.
But you're working every day.
Your children are both dying.
Husband's always working.
You're doing everything.

People are calling you with questions.
To which you're always giving the right answers.
But nobody sees you slowly turning numb from all the darkness.
You are not even screaming anymore.
Your voice now sounds so sore.

You know you carry the moon and sun at the same time for so long.
Everyday and every night.
You had to be the fire that was always on, full blasting burning.
Meanwhile your eldest kept on teaching you about the world and everything.

Your youngest had to be a warrior coming home with wounds you had to mend and bind.
No time for fun or just feeling good for such a long long time.

It still keeps going on and on.
You're waiting for the big turning, a place for settling and everything to be alright.
But these days are long gone, everything you have is now and you're trying the best you can all along.
No grandkids and no future.

But it's all just here in this horrible world, you see?
Look how far you've already come.
It's never been in vain.
You're right where you need to be.
And so are we.

Even though it hurts, you're doing well.
And it's been seen.
You're not alone.
Nothing will stay.
But our connection.
And all the battles we've gone through, still never giving in.
Fighting for what we know is right.

I believe in you.
This moment is now just for you, close your eyes and feel it, you deserve it.
And so much more.
It is still inside and always will be.
You are a universal mother.

I clean the mirror and stick my tongue out to life!
Not giving a **** used to give me energy.
Now I’m lucky if it brings me peace.
Joy has dulled out.
I still like crazy bands and their stories…
But I think I’ve had most of my crazy funny nights.
I don’t know.
Maybe I should try it one more time.
Just to see if it’s alright.

How much longer can I want to die but still just stick around?
Cause why not, guess I still can.
Anyway but it gets old.
But it gets better in some ways.
But there’s never a straight line towards anywhere.
And I’m just so over all of these unpleasant tasks and feelings every day.
Every night I’m waking.
Constantly.
I want to dream!
Intense dreams, peaceful nights and days.
Evening cries with music playing just celebrating suffering.

Everything.
Even though we don’t know where this will end.
What will begin?
We just know that we won’t take another type of control after this war!
This place of war that we got sent into!
I’m cleaning my mirror and sticking out my tongue.
Just to say, I’m hating this game!

When everything turned I was still carrying the hurt.
And it’s not gone but my tolerance and energy really are, almost completely.

It’s so hard to grasp for me that there’s a way to continue.
Do I even want to go on?

No choice as usual it seems.
But it turned for the better.
That doesn’t mean the pain is gone.
And peace is never close unless I’m close to you.

In the moment.
But many moments are too hard to live in for me. Still.
And there’s no settling, no calmth.
Only a reason to go on again.