Disrupted.. my mind, let me think how it's done,
It's not that I'm not, unless I'm gone.
I know, yes I know.. and it slept once again,
This thought is so quirky, can't see nothing but pain.
It's muddy and sticky its all over this head,
A head that a long time ago has gone mad.
Im bouncing thru time and thru space and thru life,
They're trying to take off the blur, but it's never enough.
Those solid and smelly, oh people they are called,
Are trying to reach us, oh this game is so old.
For years, no. decades I'm swimming inside,
This poor little brain with this sick little mind.

When flowers are silent,
And fireflies ready to fly.
When shining stars are the highlight
of the day passing by.

When the darkness is cleaning in silence, all the tangled thought mess.
When crickets sprinkle their music,
adding wonderful tones to the dark sparkly canvas of bless.

Some say the darkness holds danger
in its invisible arms.
That it is old Satan's favourite set,
and demons stand there with cams.

Don't be fooled by the cowards
that stand right behind.
Nighttime sensations are the best you can find.

How does it fill do be a soldier, taking your sword out of your enemy's body, ready to **** once again in the middle of a battlefield?
Or a prisoner, waking up for your 1564 day in prison, knowing you have 3467 more to go?
Or a girl, who walks through the school gate, praying she won't be bullied today?
Or a cow, hearing her fellows being carelessly killed next door, and realizing what's coming?
Or an old man, taking his last breaths after a long fight with the pain of third stage cancer?
Or a young kitten, seeing its mother run by a car?
Or a cashier in a supermarket, running another item through the barcode scanner after doing it all day?
Or a holocaust "survivor", taking a deep breath and watching the birds fly, after hiding under his best friends floor for three years strait, and then finding out that the war is not over and his friend just gave him to the Nazis in exchange for some food?

How does it feel, being trapped in this world without any clue about possible alternatives?

Well, it feels like ****.

I imagine myself in a white little room,
Theres a white little bench, which there's no need to groom.
I'm just sitting there, hugged by my man.
He is telling me: "everything is ok"
And to argue with this I have no way,
I got nothing to say.
I just stay.. this way.. in this calm state of mind, in which I have nothing to hide.
Then I stand, and Just walk.
In my own special way.

I took a tour to a wonderful place,
Earth they call it, if there's no mistakes.
I remember they told me about the trees,
Such interesting creatures that help people breathe.
And of course, there are people, who are not so bright,
But they said i can help them to go through insight.
There are night and day,
switching each other on the opposite sides.
And they have only one moon,
which is totally normal in their weird minds.
Also, I heard that on earth, life can be tough.
For evolving there, happiness isn't enough.
There's pain wherever you look,
for example, they put fish on a hook..

So I went to this planet to feel how it's like,
It appeared to not be such a pleasent hike.
Being born was a serious pain,
and what made it worse is that i couldn't explain.
Through my childhood I was completely lost,
in the attempts to form the correct way of acting,
I wanted them to like me at any cost,
And for that with all my power I was fighting.
From all directions I heard lies,
Which I personaly truly despise,
Although sometimes I used them myself because otherwise......
I discovered the weirdest feeling of all,
Love they call it, in which you can fall.
It makes you go crazy while enjoying your madness,
Even if it makes you fall into sadness.
It makes you savour the suffering it brings,
Because other than that, nothing else means.

For now my conclusion is that earth tourism *****,
But it's definitely worth, the logic it lacks.

Mr pretend, oh. he is so kind,
he's dancing around, blending into the crowd.
Mr pretend is one of its kind,
he helps you forget who you are from inside.
The people who have him are lucky indeed,
they can wear him whenever they need.
One day you're a worker, the other, a mom,
sometimes you're saint, and when it's needed - you're totally dumb.
And when you're going to sleep, late at night,
Don't worry, just close your eyes really tight,
And pretend you're doing it all: right.

Why.

Trapped in their own minds, though convinced they are not.
Tying their problems in a big giant knot,
That is bound to their back, while they are looking for the perfect spot.
The one that when you finely on it,
Fulfilment washes you from inside,
The one that on it you dont have to hide,
No more! no way I will share or give even the smallest piece, of this overwhelming bliss.
Ill fight for it like i never did, there is nothing else i need.. oh **t!
Im trapped, again, what a fool i have been,
im stuck again in this perfect place im in.
Im so scared to loose what i got
Am i free? Oh no **** not.

Not again, just stop it, please,
don't cry, you are killing yourself,
You will die!
I'll die anyway, if i won't or will cry,
In any scenario I will still die.
If my reason will win, and the useless emotions will shut,
Then I wont crack, like a nut.
I'll stay strong and unbearably dry,
And after the last drop is gone, i'll still die.
If the satisfying tears will take the charge,
If the temptation of sadness will be just too large,
It will consume me, I'll forget where I've been,
I won't know how to stop, even where to begin.
I wonder what will happen if I'll try,
Will I die?

I guess i'm too afraid to check it out..
What if I won't find the way out?

And while i'm trying to decide on the side,
I'm not sure if I'm alive...

It's so hard at the beginning,
Even though you seek its meaning,
Almost impossible to reach,
It's such a pitch..
But as the time goes by, You try, you cry,
And soon enough, it's not so tough.
It becomes a habit, in which an effort is a stranger,
It's a game changer..
So all you need is repetition?
That's all your mission?
Well, there's just one thing you should beware of:
ones your habit is established,
it's not so easy to get off.
So better choose them well,
Unless you want to be in hell.

Sometimes I feel so old,
So old, as if my existence is already covered with mold.
So old, as if my body is emptied so well,
That all I'm left with is just a shell.
Hopelessly crawling thru the last days of my life,
Eagerly waiting for death's sharp knife.
Oh yes, it's so close, I can fill it in my veins,
So close to the freedom from lifes restrains.

They act as if they are so sure,
As if their actions are so mature.
Like there is no doubt in their so perfectly planned way,
Even though they're heading all together to their own last day.
This act is their only shield from the truth they all know very well,
That they are falling in a deep deep well,
They know what is waiting for them at the end of the fall,
And yet, they prefer to pretend there is nothing at all.
Poor little people so hopeless so scared,
Please tell me, are you afraid?

Is it possible to make?
Or to try is a mistake…
Maybe all our world is fake,
And we are not even awake...
I want to know! For god sake!

I have to face the facts,
To accept the perfectness this world lacks.
So I can bear my existence thru the scenes,
Whatever that means..
While trying to fight,
I observe how illusory my might.
Sometimes I think I'm right,
but then I see I'm not so bright.
So I seek the only thing, I guess I have the control on -
the power to not think, just observing what's going on.
And to this only might I hold tight,
But once I do - it instantly slips thru my mind.

They say it means something, your life.
They say, go study, get a wife.
Just trust us, leave your worries,
Just trust us, and enjoy life's glories.
But wait its not eternal, it is quite short,
I have to think about what I got.
Oh, come on, don't bother, Look at your father, he lived like no other with your adorable mother.
Yeah, but now he's gone, it has to be considered.
Oh please, just drink this and stop being so weird.

Ha-ha, he tries to find some meaning,
Such a funny living being..
He is accomplishing some stuff,
He never thinks it is enough..
He thinks his thoughts will impact the reality,
And this is clarity.. for him..
He didn't know, there is no meaning,
He was wrong from the beginning.
And when his end was a tiny bit of him,
It finally occurred to him,
He saw it in his daughter's eyes,
The love, the passion, no disguise...
What did he miss?
He missed enjoying all this bliss..
Living, tasting, playing, longing,
seeing, touching, smelling, walking,
Louthing, crying, there's so much...
he missed it all along,
And just before the last gong,
He realized..
He had to think, to plan.. to do..
But in the meantime, he forgot to live..

There's no deny we have our will,
the will to suffer or to drill.
To drill to master the emotions,
make devotions, sail the oceans.
Of course it matters, our will,
but somehow it just makes me ill.
Because the willings and desires, are all the weapons of the liars.
They make you think you have a will,
but in the end its just their reel.
Before you know it, you are caught,
and even though you think you fought,
the truth is that you were defeated,
the moment your desires heated.

It's not so easy, to take it easy.
When the pain is making you dizzy,
And the mind is busy,
With attempts to take it ******* easy.
Yea, sometimes its hard to be grateful for the pain,
Sometimes the unpleasant circumstances fall on you like a pouring rain,
And you just stand under it,
getting all wet,
Covered by the pain's giant net.
At least it's not boring, you say to yourself, it is god trying to entertain..
Himself? Myself?
another cold shiver runs through my body,Please, help, anybody?
That's it, it's not worth it, screaming my brain,
Take me out of this burning rain!
What can I do?, I'm getting insane!