People always clap for the wrong reasons,
And the best at ****** are those who preach against it.
Evil is not intrinsic. It’s fashioned.
I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves.
There’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out.
I talk to God but the sky is empty;
This love is silent.
It’s exponentially bigger than you think;
It’s what you feel, but can’t articulate out loud.
Who in the world am I? Ah, that’s the great puzzle.
And neither the angels in the heaven above nor the demons down under the sea
Or the ghosts inside of me
Ever told me that grief felt so like fear.
It’s easier to floss with barbed wire than
Admit that we love evil too well to give it up.
Youth is a blunder, old age a regret;
But you cannot find peace by avoiding life.
Humankind cannot bear very much reality.
To struggle against this stupidity,
I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world.
The troublemakers are just a handful,
And if our times are difficult and perplexing,
We become what we think.
The earth has music for those who listen;
There are times when the wolves are silent and the moon is howling.
Nature is a haunted house—but Art—
Is not a thing, it is a way;
A parasitic on life.
It is easy to fool the eye,
But art is the lie that enables us to realize the truth.
We are killing a part of our souls
Every whisper of every waking hour,
And none of it seems real to me,
But everyone’s to blame.
I have been learning how to die:
My ribs are poking through and my coat is getting thin.
Love lies hidden in every rose,
It’s a restless hungry feeling that don’t mean no one no good.
Nothing is permanent in this wicked world;
You must let them go, they were born to go.
There was never meant to be clarity.
Let nothing disturb you; let nothing frighten you.
When the wind blows, the grass bends;
There are so many fragile things after all.
The earth breathes melodies in the wind,
But those songs and bells were the laughter of guns
And their echoes are truly endless.
You said I should learn to sing along,
There’s paranoia in your veins.
Stop wearing your wishbone where your backbone ought to be,
The world is filled with broken things.
You must have chaos within you,
You can turn a phrase into a weapon.
Words are the most powerful drug used by mankind;
I always have to justify how my tongue dances:
I bite my tongue and torch my dreams.
When people don’t express themselves, they die one piece at a time;
To live is the rarest thing in the world.
The fear of death follows from the fear of life,
And sometimes I can hear my bones straining under
The weight of all the lives I’m not living.
You cannot find peace by avoiding life.
The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to
Not let your fire go out.
Love is always open arms;
Hate is too great a burden to bear.
I leave my heart open but it stays right here empty for days.
I still want to drown whenever you leave,
But in the end you can’t always choose what to keep.
Everything must be made as simple as possible,
Yet fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living.
We must be careful about what we pretend to be,
The first time someone shows you who they are, believe them.
Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored,
Everything you can imagine is real.
It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live:
To those who will see, the world waits.
The sun only comes up to humiliate you,
But the planet is fine. The people are ******.
You don’t forget the face of the person who was your last hope,
They can make your thoughts as heavy as branches after a storm.
He had preserved the best part of her
And made it his own: the principle of her scent.
He told how “the heavy smell of flower petals stroked the walls of my lungs.”
But ghosts have a way of misleading you.
We are all haunted, all of us, by things we can see and feel and guess at,
And many more things that we can’t.
We all carry, inside us, people who came before us.
You don’t need water to feel like you’re drowning, do you?
Your hands went cold in mine and I’m still searching for warmth;
Nothing burns like the cold.
For when all else is done, only words remain. Words endure.
The future depends on what we do in the present,
The time will never be just right.
Question the world and don’t wait for a reply
Don’t be fooled by the words of deceit,
Don’t let her stick it to your heart so hard.
Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple:
When you cease to exist who will you blame?
Everyone I know is gone, and I barely know myself.
cento