I needed an angel to talk to.
In the night so I called you.  
As always hell was way too loud for me and my broken body.
Especially last night when I needed an angel to calm me.
I wish I could say: I fought myself through it again like the nights before.
But my body got extra sore.
My mind was extra weak.
Soaking tears were on each cheek.
You calmed the howling dog in hell.
But wore it down with that story you did tell.
Anyhow, you made it stop wailing.
We closed our eyes peace inhaling.
I talked a little to your true angel wife in the sky.
The final thing that got my eyes to dry.
So I turned over.
The next thing I can’t remember......

I love you, I want your hugs.
Escape this life.
Like you show me what love is like beyond this world.

Like it should be.
You let me feel it.
Only for a moment.

I am free against your body.
I am free when we connect.
To that world beyond this world.

Just a moment where everything feels right.
We all need it, sometimes we give everything.
Give too much.

But you can escape in different ways.
Healthy ways too.
Music and creating, whatever sets you free.

Listen to that voice inside that tells you what you need.
A new year where we can all follow our true feeling.
A new year where you can just have your say and do what you must do.

What do you want the most, who do you really love?
I shouldn't try to be all sentimental but we need to do what feels right.
That’s what I think is best cause we are battling and growing.

Narrow ideas about life are over now.
Not just right and wrong, religion, rules.
But energy spread out all over, God is not a thing, not nothing, in everything.

The gates to the spiritual world are always open.
Listen, respond how you feel you need to.
Be you.

Have a good next year, feel free.
I wish for you freedom, love, more peace and passion.
You are worth everything and so much more!

When you forget the feeling of what it's like to be loved you don't miss it as much.
You are one with yourself.
This journey is for you and you don't have to share it.
Share energy,
You grow alone and sometimes may share your findings with friends and family.

Although sometimes maybe something is missing but you're ok.
On your own you decide what to do and when.
It's nice, you feel so free.
Your relationship with yourself is strong and that's how you feel.

You know you, you know what you need and what you can do.
Although at some point you may start to wonder: is this it?
Am I just dealing with daily life by myself?
And when it's hard then you may wonder what the point of going on alone may be.

So you seek and find love again.
But then, the loneliness kicks in when you are not with the other.
You feel lost.
And when being together all the time becomes too much and you take some time alone, you know what you miss.

Loving makes lonely in here.
Loving makes lonely on earth.
Loving makes lonely while being alive.
Loving makes lonely in here.

I’ve been sitting around eating my nails.
Waiting to get going.
Heavy burning.
Bricks shoving.
Same old things but in a different way.
Relax, brick by brick.
Heavy and sick.
Same old things in a certain way.
Or else everything falls apart.
And it’s even more heavy.
When will I be done?
And then still I’d be sitting nails eating.
After talking, after a long walk or doing something.
Getting on the go.
Going on my way.
On my heavy burning.
Heavy bricks shoving.
Nails eating, sickly.
Heavy brick by brick way.
Building different things breaking.
Come take a look at my building.
Don’t come in cause it’s falling.
It sure looks very heavy.
Have a look and take a daily picture before it’s fallen to the ground.
I’m just sitting eating my nails right in front of it......

Maybe muscle memory goes deeper than a body.
Like lipsyncing to a song that you never heard before.
Dreaming in a language that you don’t speak anymore.

I am angry when I try to sleep.
I am angry when I try to wake.
I am angry when I try to live.
I am angry when I try to die.

Maybe this impossible life takes longer than my age.
Like looking back a couple of months not believing where I was living.
And everything I believed in has again all been changing.

I am finally where I tried to be.
I got finally what I need to take.
I have finally a way out of this place.
I know finally what’s going on but I can’t leave.

So now what again?
Making the best of it and doing what I can?
I deserve to get out and go see what’s beyond.
Although my view is clear.
Clear from here.

But I keep being angry when I try to sleep.
Keep being angry when I try to wake.
Keep being angry when I try to live.
Keep being angry when I try.

God, it's not a thing, it's not nothing.
Bigger than what we can make of it in here.
Look wider, feel further.
The gates are always open.
It's not a loop of a conspiracy theory.
It's not the act of just world leaders in control.
It goes beyond this world, the matrix.
You'll find in your heart what's right.

Midnight at the Matrix.
Only in poetry music, ***.
Sometimes there's a way out.

And a dreamland in the inbetween.
Seeing things you haven't seen.
But there are some boundaries.

There are little worlds behind them.
You can see them but you can't go there yet.
And creatures walking around you ignoring you.
This world is not yet yours.

Midnight at the matrix.
Trying to get ready to relax.
Finishing your last phone call.

You both broke down on the other side of the line.
Both vacuum ****** and you can't get through the end of the bowl.
Cause there's no end at all.
No end in a vacuum bowl.

Still not completely ****** in the same way.
But soon you'll be ****** together in the same old bowl.
One of you just came out of war, the other out of hell.
Not much difference, still a world of a difference.

One is still and the other always ill.
Cause being ****** in a bowl where everything is too much makes you never relax...
Being ****** in a bowl after a war is a calm in the eye of a storm.
An eye of glass....

Midnight at the Matrix.
Only in poetry music, ***.
Sometimes there's a way out.

This is all I need right now.
Taking a step back.
All the options are there forever.
The truth, the blood, the pale, the marks.
They will always be there.
As we can create anything and take it all away.
Again.

But this is all I need right now.
As my nose is running.
Over my make up on my skin and lips.
My tummy full of milk and seeds.
Soon I'll be running down the steps.
To sing at the geese on the street.
Again.

All the old songs and videos.
They will always remain with the new.
Bodies grow and gravity pulls them back to the soil.
The ceiling shows pictures of what comes through pavements at other places....

Looking up I know where my friends are.
Looking down I see and feel exactly where they go.
I never walk next to them.
I walk around them.

And this is all I can have right now.
This is all I can do.
This matters so much to me.
That I'm breaking down.
But I'm standing up for me.
Because nobody deserves to stay down for too long.
Again.

So I'm getting up.
Again.
Again and again.
Until I'll be able to create a way out.
A way out.
Forever.
For me and for you.
Because nobody deserves to keep going down.

When you thought you knew all the answers.
And everything changes.
Once again but with a more broad perspective.
Everything you're seeking becomes more effective.
Because you're seeking for the truth, the truth that is within.
Touch it, feel it through a human skin.

We are free.
Free from the heart.
We are free.
Free from the start.

Can you not just follow a program but feel where you must be?
You are a spiritual being that is longing to be free.
And maybe some of us are so fed up and tired of being stuck in this situation.
All around the universe it's possible, we have our possibilities in our own true self, our own true creation.
We can create and see anything when we're dreaming.

We are free.
Free from the heart.
We are free.
Free from the start.

But not when we're sleeping, take the ones that are willing.
Out of the matrix for a new beginning.
Maybe this was not in vain cause now you and I know how freedom really feels.
So I'm taking you through the spinning wheels.
Back home, back to the source, back to truth, our spiritual form.
Run with me, sing along, dance around, open your eyes through the storm.

We are free.
Free from the heart.
We are free.
Free from the start.
Free from the pain of the programm and programming.
Free to be.
Free to feel what you and I are really feeling, truly being.
We are free,
Free from the heart.
We are free.
Free from the start.

I'm standing in a dark room with my eyes closed.
I'm finding a new song.
As I fall in love.
As I'm always falling.
Can I be in love with you when I'm not among the living?
I can't sleep.
I can't find comfort in anything.

But the dark room and the song remind me of the moment where not everything is happening .
I'm not missing out on anything.
When I'm in the moment and I see much more in the dark.
I'm missing out when I see everything happening.
Because that's when nothing's really happening to me.

I'll go searching in the dark, maybe I'll find love.
Maybe you will find  me too.
Like the song.
Like the song found me.
As I sing along.
I notice you touching my lips.

Your hands are feeling every movement.
I feel every feeling as I'm singing.
The song that found me.
And I found you years ago but I cannot be in love with you.
Because I'm not among the living.
I can't sleep.
I can't find comfort in anything.

Take my hand and we’ll jump through the pastel chalk powder.
We can be a different creature.
Both of us can go and feel at home.
Not here.

This can be an ode to my friends and my closest family.
Because you are always so dear and understanding, especially now that we're here.
Finally.
Look now all around, it feels full of options but it still makes you nauseous, yes I know.

Take my hand and let me show you why I have to go through the pastel powder.
Let me be a different creature, I feel sick when I stick around.
Both of us can feel at home now when we jump right through the ground.
A chalk pavement painting.

Let's go right into the pavement painting.
Let me take you.
Pastel, not too bright but soft and light.
Comfortable.

This painting is an ode to my dear friends and closest family.
Because you're always so dear and some things you understand so well.
Come on let me take care of those wounds and soreness with a chalk powder.
A soft chalky powder smell.


And soft colours for strange creatures.
We can be.
A different kind of creature when we go through the chalk powder on the pavement.
Take my hand, we can be, we can be...

Soft.
Comfortable.
Happy.
Smooth.
Peaceful.
Loving.

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...

Death is a strange thing.
But when life is torturing...
Death whispers a soft lullaby.
A sweet and bitter goodbye.
An I’m so sorry to friends and family.
There’s still a place where we can be.
I’ll try to be there.
When you ever feel the horror and the torture that somehow some people must bare.
I know all about the suffocation of life and how it makes your body and mind feel too old.
Your cramping muscles too sore and your inside too cold.
No way to calm it down but I will somehow change it cause I must.
It’s something I do for me and something you have to trust.
Because there’s no other way and it won’t go away.
Even when I dance in a trance.
I need no more torture.
No more torture.

Death is a strange thing.
Death is living.
When life is torturing.
Whisper sweet lullabies as I’m crying, as you’re crying.
Please understand, I’m never leaving because I’m never leaving you forever.
And I care but it’s so dark and merciless here that it gives me a fever.
One I can only escape in a sweet lullaby.
In a sweet bitter goodbye.
Goodbye, goodnight, I love you, feel the sparkle, feel the warm embrace from behind.
I’m never gone you’ll find.
It will be another night for a moth lying on its side with its arms and legs on its side.
Wings covering its tiny body.
Exhausted and weary, feverish and a tickling cough.
Can’t keep eyes open, can never fully drift off.

I don’t know when, I don’t know if I can.  
Not now, but somehow I’ll find you.
Looking around, people, always on the go or struggling.
Or both I’m just watching and I don’t know when and where I’ll go.

Standing here in that dark room looking away.
I let you take advantage of me.
But now I even feel so much more empty.
It was something I just felt I had to do, a bucket list thing.
Don’t know what I was thinking, just a feeling.

But I learned that there’s a thin line between giving something and giving even more.
It’s confusing, I don’t even know exactly what you took.
I just feel so empty.

So now I’m standing in a dark room in my head looking back.
I thought it should be fine as long as I would keep thrack of what was yours and what was mine.
Now I know that there’s a thin line....

You aimed for the most or you just didn’t aim right.
So it landed somewhere where it hurts.
On me and now I even feel so much more empty.
It was something I just felt I had to do, a bucket list thing.
Don’t know what I was thinking, just a feeling.

It started off right, trusting letting go.
Killing off the gatekeeper.
I should just have let him take a break.
Not take him to the grim reaper.

But now I know that there’s a thin line between giving something and giving even more.
It’s confusing, I don’t even know exactly what you took.
I just feel so empty.

Broken, don’t function.
Frozen, eruption.
Stiff before explosion.
Processing in slow motion.
Stiff, waiting, breathing.
Is it living?
Breaking, dying but always finding a new way.

I am dying, I am standing up high, I can’t bend.
I am walking through the dark blue.
All that dark blue shimmering and my face and my eyes.
And my dark hair almost dry now in the wind.

Hearing my footsteps on the pavement and the bass drum in my ear.
Final chapter, making it worth sticking around for.
Final chapter, making it matter.
I can opt out at any time now.
Nothing to lose.

I fought a snake last night.
A boy came after me to do the same.
But I told him I already did it.
He seemed to not really believe that I already gone through this fight.
It was over but he made me do it again.
So I threw the boy to the snake and ran.

Something in me told me I had to do this to really finish it.
Couldn’t help being a bad ***** in my dream.
It was his time to fight so now I had to leave.

Be free.
Run, run, run.
Run to the city.
The brown empty city in the night.
Through the night.

I don’t know why this keeps on happening.
It’s like I’m forced to fight every time before being able to let go.
Can’ t just shake it off cause there’s always something, somebody left to fight with or fight for.
And afterwards being afraid of what will be my sentencing.
It’s unacceptable, you did something horrible.

Something in me told me I had to do this to really finish it.
Couldn’t help being a bad ***** in my dream.
It was his time to fight so now I had to leave

**** it off and then you can run free!
Run, run, run.
Run to the city.
The brown empty city in the night.
Through the night.

Life = death &
Death = life.
When you let go you will know.
You will know when you let go.

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.

Why would you stay in this comfort when it’s bringing you discomfort?
The tree lets the wind take its leaves.

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.

Today is heavy, my soul carrying my body.  
Yesterday we were walking chased by a black dog.
Everywhere he followed me and my body.
But when we tried to approach him, he ran as fast as a fox can.

We let him play this game for a while under a bright full moon in the sky.
Walking to the bridge, sitting under trees.
Staring at the sky, seeing the dog come and go.
Until we got fed up and left to let him sort it out.
He never came back anymore.

Today we had a meltdown, too much to carry to carry on.
So we let it flow and accepted that you can’t fully explain this world and people are suffering.
We’ve been lost all throughout this life and only gathered pieces to guide us through a journey that taught us that everything has a story.

And we gathered those with us as well.
So many, still so lost.
But nothing is wrong and nothing is right.
It all just is what it is at that moment or that lifetime.
This soul carrying this body today...
It’s always longing to see and be beyond this one.

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.

I have died so many times.
I saw the light, I know it.
But I can't deny the dark.
Dying and darkness is needed to burst and make the light come through.
So I know the dark and I know the light but I haven't died enough times.
Not enough to be free.
Can a person ever know all the light and all the dark and still be white like the light?
In all this darkness I know I learned to love it.
And I think there's nothing wrong with it as long as it is right.
Like a darkness full of stars that means no harm.
Like a peaceful room to rest in and close your eyes.
I have died so many times.
So I know how to die but I don't like to die in the light.

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.

I'm in love with a person who has severe social anxiety.
He does not come out of his cave unless he's got something amazing to show me.
And I am always on the run from where I live and all the noises, all the discomfort.
I'm not afraid to die, I hate my life.
I wish to be somebody, somebody that can reach you or just anybody.
But not me or my sister because she's fighting just as hard or even harder than me.
Just to live, and if I have to live I need to be with somebody that is worth surviving for.
Oh, come on, every day and night is still just getting out of hand and just not really worth it anymore.

But what can I do?
What can you do?
How can I love you?
What can I do for you?
What can we do.
How, what but....

Help, I just exploded and so I woke you when you were half asleep.
You said you didn't mind and so now we had another time to find how we relate.
We relate, relate too much.
I wish it was just me dying and miserably lonely.
But the monster had to bite you now too and it even figures that it has some real and pretty very serious kind of catching up to do.
On you, my sister and so now you're fighting just as hard or even harder than me.
Just to live, and if you have to live you need to be with somebody that is worth surviving for.
Oh, come on, every day and night is still just getting out of hand and you wonder if it really is even worth it anymore.

But now what can you do?
What can I even do?
You know I love you.
What can it do for you?
What can we do?
How, what, but...

I love you.

I'm in love but I can never love you like I wish to.
I love you but I can never be there for you.
But, what, how...

I really really really really loooove, love, love, love, will always love, will always be connected to....
Will always be in love and will always really love, love, love, yes I really always looooove you!!!

Falling asleep finally.
After 3.
Dreaming about a woman with dark brown wavy hair.
A heavy stare.
And colours of fiery orange, red and yellow.
My name appears in white with a bow and arrow.
My first name and middle and they're a being split and seperated.
Looks like they're written like a word in a dictionary, a new word being created.
Sharon Yvon- Syon.
Does it mean anything, are things coming together again with a name?
With a bow and an arrow in a flame.

Last night I went to a closed down circus in the city.
A sad clown came up to me.
He kissed me till I had his red lips.
A kiss from a clown is so bold and bright red.
After that you cannot possibly look sad.

So I will go back another night to see if he would be there again.
In my dream later he tells me that this was something between me and him.
Next time bring your tutu dress and I will wear my best suit.
We'll be dancing all night and I'll promise to make your lips bright red.

As I write it all down after last night I hear the neighbours wake up too.
I paint my eyes like his eyes, at least I try to.
But I can't seem to get it right.
So what will I do about tonight?
I shed a little tear, I feel so helpless.
But then I notice it looks good now and I put on the tutu dress.

I take a bus to the city and stare somewhere.
The sad clown must be already waiting there.
At the empty circus.
To give me a clowny kiss.
Only his.

I call for him as I pass the entrance.
Sad clown, sad clown, I'm here for romance.
And so we dance.
Like it's the last night.
It will be the last night...
Red lips, red stains, red, all red, red red, pain.
Don't leave me bleeding, but he goes running as I am dying.

Being forced to ''run away'' because of not having a place to stay almost felt comfortable.
When you can't be comfortable anywhere.
Not with all the many painful things hitting.
Over and over day and night, so many feelings and complicated thinking...
In the end it will all fall into place, I know but it's so hard to function with all these things in the way!

Being forced to run away because of not having a place to stay.
Nothing to lose, all that matters is love and music.
Maybe some day I'll land somewhere and be able to love that.
Love being there, being there with someone and loving with all my being.
But if I can't be living, let me do something that is worth something to the ones I love.
I love how we got through life so far, we have come so far.

I love who you have become, who you've been and just who you are.
But when I look at stupid me, the naive person I had to be I can't help but hate her for all she didn't know.
But I understand why she was like that, I just never knew why it had to be.
Why was my journey so rough?
Why is yours rough too?
Journeys, worries, pain cause it's blurry and you don't know how to get through the smoke.
Am I the devil's toy or joke?

Does the universe hate me?
Can the universe not take me?
Am I feeling to it like I'm feeling right now, how I've been feeling all my life?
The fighting was good and all, very insightfull.
Let me go.

Being forced to run.
Being forced to run away.
Run if you can!
Be happy when you can.
Cause some can't run.
Some are forced to stay.
And what is worse?
Being forced to stay or being forced to run away?

?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.?

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.

Broken people are better when they're in battle.
Most of the time they can't live outside of it anymore.
They're too broken to be comfortable when there's no battle left to fight outside from their own battle with life.

They used methodes to survive too often to even start to just be able to live.
And even if they could, their bodies are no longer programmed to just be content while not having to prepare for the next hit.

Let broken people battle for what they love instead of what is hitting them too hard.
And let them feel the reason why they survived the battles before

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...

Dear daughter,

Don’t you feel right now how every little thing is just enough or a little too much?
Wishing for something better, wanting something nice...  

Melancholic from the past.
You and him on the beach.
It’s in your system.  
But now you’re just walking away.
Back to where it all started but you haven’t just started.

You’ve seen and felt it all.
It’s time to finish the circle and be grateful for the past.
And the pain can still be there.
You are ready to face it.
It’s ok.
It’s just sliding off your tired body that feels heavy on your soul.

It’s ok cause you’re going back to where you belong.
Finally you’re ready.
Back where you belong.
It’s ok.
The journey’s over.

The differences only hurt when you can’t read me.
So you keep asking me to read you pages...
It takes forever this way.
But it’s all we’ve got.
And it feels like I did read your book somewhere...
But not completely.
I think I missed a lot of details.
Maybe I shall go back and read some more.
Although it gets so hard to focus.
I’m so extremely tired.
I think I see those lines in your eyes and I hear them in your voice.
Hopefully your eyes won’t turn into mine.

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.

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!

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...

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.

I lie here completely open.
Drinking anything you pour in.
Anything is better than nothing.
I'm resting at the church steps every day.
Of a religion I hadn't heard of before.
The one that seems to fit me.
Right now that I learned the lessons that brought me to the next step.
Tomorrow I'm moving again...

Why do I try when everything sinks and the water keeps flowing?
Why do I plant seeds when in this land nothing is growing?
Why do I buy clothes for a body that I don't know?
Why do I put glitter on when another cry soon will follow?
Disappointed but alive, or dead?
I don't know what feels worse.
But when I have to be alive I'll always keep on trying to cure this curse.
But why?! Cause I'm a bad bad nurse!!!
I want to be able to **** the reason why I fight.
I don't mind if I die in the process.
Dying in this way is progress.
How many times do I have to keep trying to explain it?
Will the right people get it when I'm dead?
Will they admit?
I'm a nurse that will always be bad.
Bad at living, bad with an attitude, bad and in a bad mood.
Bad but good.
Sometimes feeling alright too.
When I smile when I see you.
But please get it now.
I'm trying to find the poison to **** that virus that's in me and it will **** me.
And it's fine and the truth and it's just all reality.
But doctors never want to see that and only they can provide it.
One day I'll make my own and not just a little bit.
Just wait and see, watch me and change things hopefully.

Everything can be nothing.
When it's too much.
Or just a little.
I have no middle or inbetween.
I have nothing but everything.
I've seen everything.
But I can do nothing.
When I saw nothing,
I thought I could do everything.
Turned out it was nothing.

Everything I learned brought me to nothing.
And I feel everything and it takes me to nothing.
Even if I could write down everything.
Nobody would see it actually happening.
But I can't write down nothing or everything.
I can't sing everything and everything is nothing.
So I write and sing just something.
But in that something is everything.

And when I'm singing everything it's too much.
So it's nothing.
So everything is nothing.
Like a little bit of everything.
Is nothing.
Today I wanted everything.
Yesterdag I wanted nothing.
I'm longing for something or someone that feels like everything.
Someone or something that is everything!

Everything I can't be.
Nothing I have ever felt.
Like nothing can make me feel.
Like everything does not matter.
But I can't find nothing or everything.
When I can feel almost everything it turns back into nothing.
So I'm longing for just something.
Or someone that's everything!

Don't be everything.
Be my everything.
My chameleon is so lonely.
Don't you see his sad looking eyes?
Longing for something that can make him feel like he is everything!

If you looked into my eyes and knew how bright they used to be, you knew I died.
As I write my words are dying now with me.
My body doesn't like it when I try to get ready.
Just sitting isn't ok either.

I just eat, fly and sing or sleep if I can.
Cause only then life doesn't feel so bad.
Like being on fire, heavy or drowning.
My body is a bag of potatoes on fire.
I'm so dead, I'm not moving.

Let me just stare in the distance.
And if you looked into my eyes, you'd know I died.
I'm buried inside.
Strangled and tight.
Gone but stuck.

Away from life.
Away from light.
Colours fly around me in my dark room.
I fall to the ground.
I lie there just still.

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.

I'm sorry, I didn't know that life was such a game.
A game that you have to play.
I forgot about the unwritten rules to follow and now I lost.
Everything.
No peace at all.
I said too much while I couldn't let you know.
Everything.
Too much for one person to carry.
But you can't share it or you loose.
Everything.
I'm sorry, I got angry while I didn't do what was expected.
The game of life we play.
I had too much to carry so I threw away the final thing that helped me.
The last thing.
Now I got nowhere to go.
I said too much and now there are these rules you must follow.
The last thing.
Too much information to carry.
So you have to share it or you fail and you're gonna be out forever.
The last thing.
I am sorry, I could not see clearly and I had to go back to the beginning.
Of the game of life again and again.
It never felt right and it's too much and now I lost.

At some point in my journey I realised that undoing wouldn't be helpful.
That I should be grateful for all that I've learned, for how much we all have grown.
I am still very proud of all the people around me.
But I want to undo the picture they'll see when I leave.
And I wish I could leave.
Three gates I found and they didn't let me through.
I told the guards that the key was me.
It wasn't enough.
All the stars lined up for the perfect goodbye.
Except for the one thing that should have released me.
The key was ready but the lock didn't fit.
Now I know there's no other way but to rest for the next challenge to find the next gate.
I'm in these  tornadoes circling in and out not coming out.
But I won't come out of this world that I'm in without finding a better way out.
Cause this world that I'm in is not my home and it will never be though I tried to make it so.
People helped me to make it right.
Now we need peace.

There's dirt underneath me.
I walk around lost in my body.

A neon zombie.
Through the night.
Neon zombie through the night holding a magic light.
As a guide.

But Everything is aching.
Everything is falling.
And the neon zombie is crawling.
And when it can run, it runs off into space.
Lasers coming from its eyes in a daze.

Although it knows where it belongs and it's not in this body.
Dirt underneath a body.
All around here now and inside of me.
Help, I'm wandering in the space that's left for me not walking freely.

There's dirt underneath me.
I walk around lost in my body.

Still walk neon zombie.
You are never comfy.
With your neon face staring into space.
Before you enter.
Unexpected but always from the centre.

Can I still walk with you, or should I just wait?
So tired of being lost facing this closed gate. (it's closed)
Walking only kills the time and burns away the need and desire.
To not be on fire.

All the time killing time in a tunnel where all babies should die.
And I know why.
It's getting late and it's getting dark.
So sleep before the neon lights spark.

As my life is falling into pieces I learn it's not about how much it shatters.
What the remaining parts look like is what actually matters.
You have no control, you just have to deal with everything as it comes.

You have to trust in yourself in any situation as it welcomes.
Although your mind's in a Matrix that's playing these games.
The programs, they hurt so much as you're walking again through the flames.

Those heroes around you lift you up.
The spirits among you put their arms around you.
You cannot stop.
Not now that the chapter is all new.

The pieces float around me.
I cannot sleep and the world is creepy.
I just surrender and find my world in this world like my friends all do.
Now we're here, look how far you've come, the chapter is all new!

As my life falls down I can just look down and see these pieces flaking.
I'm swimming towards the end altough my body's aching.
It's not very far, just very painful.
I've never felt this dreadful.
But it's not me, it's the pieces falling.
It's not me or my friends but the flakes that are drowning.

I will love you in the moment.
And I will love you forever cause it'll never end!

No body gets immunity to a virus against our community.
Virus entering a body.
Virus entering a system, virus coming through your airways.
Making them feel sore.
Like it's happening in many ways.
It cannot function anymore.

Breaking down, breaking down what once was standing.
Breaking down what once stood tall.
Breaking down, a new beginning or ending. With a body that feels small.

I'm in a body floating feeling like a baby.
Bald and always ready.
For the future that's ahead of me.
I'm a newborn like a baby.
The air is fresh around me and my body's drying up.
The virus never kills me, it will eventually just give up.

Like everything that's killing because I'm in here floating peacefully.
I'll send peace towards the sick.
And the virus I will kick.
I am part of a community that is stronger than a building.
And it will always keep on fighting.
Till the end of everything....
The end of everything.
A new beginning?

It can no longer **** me when I'm dead already.  
I'm in love with knowing it killed me.
Taking off my body.
Like an old coat that I smacked on the floor.
Cause I really really don't need it anymore!

Here is the part where it changed me, it changed you.
I feel everything.
Everything coming through.
And I know and I understand.
How it feels to grow and to hold your hand.

My friends, my army and my family.
In me and me in you, you in me.
No longer will I feel heavy.
I am happy.
And in love cause it has killed me.
It can no longer **** me cause I'm dead already.
I'm so happy!

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.