I wish I could sell my soul to freedom and not to the big machines
But if I want to get what I need,
I can't be allowed to be free.

I can dream but it'll all be a made-up scene
Nothing real can be what I want.

Pain is like a drug

Once you feel it in your body and mind,
You can't get enough.

It's not good, but to you it's enough.

Enough to feel pleasure and validation
Enough to feel some sort of love
Enough to accept over time.

And over time it begins to morph into
what you call your life.

Entering my own daydream
Where birds fly with the wind
  When I can be free
And where time has no end

  Sitting with myself with wonder
About the cruel, dull world out there
  Wishing someone will bring thunder
To the quiet planet, the most rare

  Hello, is there anyone like me?
Who sees the world now
  And how the world should be?
If only the one's I want, knew how

  Lost in thought it may seem
But for now, my reality is not a daydream



-cc

Power is love.

And the love for Power is strong.

Twisted normality of our fate is strong.

And the love to destroy something with power
is stronger.

My subconscious is another world
It drags me into the luring apparition of
Love and fear

This world is filled with what I want
At the base of it all
It's another world I'd love to live in

But this earthly world drags me back upon each wakening
The reality of love and fear
But it's not worth it
And it's not what I want

Thus every waking moment
After experiencing my dreams
Is a nightmare, and a torturous reminder
Of what I don't have
And of what I can't feel.

Constant frustration and exhaustion occurs when at school
Panic, anxiety, rage, and sorrow
Yet silence is all I project

School is for work, which I am dissatisfied with
I'm a free-spirit, not a soldier of society

Boring, oh so boring!
I have more to believe in life than the standard "school"

School makes me frown, and I constantly look down
But it is the only way out.

-cc

A scripted scene is what I dream,
and the lines are what I read.

A made up tale is what I fail
to see as make believe.

Everything is forced, and
practiced, and drawn.
What does it feel like,
to sing my own song?

A scripted scene is what I dream,
and the lines are what I read.

Are they blind to what's wrong?
Or is it I who's truly asleep?

the sunset is bleeding into the room
all the secrets from within
will make themselves known
when the winter breeze comes
and takes you away

Secrets The very word triggers a flood of nervous, guilty feelings.
Why?
Do we all hold some sort of deep secret?
We all have them, some have many, while some have just one, but that one
holds more intensity than gravity holding Earth together.

Our own self denial cannot run from this this very word.
We run from lies, love, and pain.
But truth be told,
We cannot even simply run from the word, let alone secrets themselves.

Destroy yourself or heal yourself up, by asking yourself
Why?
Why do I get so anxious about
Secrets?

I'm very unstable but everyone knows it's looks that are important

She did not care.

Why should she?

What's new to make her feel a sudden wave of emotion?

This is the world she is used to, this is the world she has been shaped to know. And to survive for her own well-being, she can't care.

And she won't care.

She won't care because she cares too much.
But obviously she doesn't care enough to not become what the dystopian world wants her to.

sigh la vie
and c'est misery

It's there, I can see it
I can feel it pulling me

Disaster and disappointment
Can only discourage me for so long

Because the sun's radiance is there
I can feel it driving me towards
Success

Beautifully swirling
With gratitude
Looking around at all
The warmth from the heart
Has brung

To the table
To under the tree
To the clothes we wear in unison

Looking at all the glistening lights
They shine so bright
So festive and cheery

Family lifting up spirits
When the friends knock them down
True ones there for you
Will show you through actions
By sharing more than material objects

Words and actions
Swirl me into gratitude

A beautiful suicide is what I wish to succeed
Let the Earth take me in as it's own.

It's time to leave my lively throne.

-cc

The life of a shining young star
Would have yet to come so far
If life didn't take her

The dreams of a shining bright sun
Her whole life had yet to come
But the end ended all means

Riddled with the continuous cycle of the same terrorizing thing. My soul has been played continuously like a fiddle and I am unsure how to break this cycle. I know I can, but when you are riddled with a continuum of repeated tormentous events, it makes you weak… so weak you can’t help but run into the next riddle of pain….

I never thought I would be one to live through the end.
I thought by the time my eyes were open, it wouldn't come for years,
after my eyes had been long closed.
But in reality, in which i'm living, the end is here,
and I am witnessing it's tainted glory.

Now when I think back, I realize I had been sailing
not only through my years,
but of the years leading up to the complete end.

The loss of time. The loss of the past.

We aren't supposed to not change things, but we don't change what we're supposed to, and we change the things we're not.

  I am witnessing the biggest natural disaster amongst humanity.
Why me? Why now? I had not prepared. Now I'm stuck at a
crossroad because of my lack of preparation.

Sometimes I'd like to die, but i cannot leave this tragic world behind.
I must fight. Not only for myself,
but for what little life is left for this world.

-cc

Infinite is an endless quantity,
But it is widely known

What I feel, is a feeling too strong

No one can see it,
But all can hear it

No one believes what they can't touch,
But once something touches them,
They're suddenly believers

All we speak, all we write
Is recycled through time

But the feeling,
The feeling we share -
Will always be there

The mind is what disrupts and corrupts the soul.

-cc

You can bury people and you can bury treasure
But you'll never be able to bury the truth

Each time you try, it becomes harder to hide
And quicker to realize.

Life is game and without the mind to find
All the things in time, will turn into a lie.

All it is a routine.

A routine of shining bright, then dying out.

Feeling it all, to feeling nothing.

Being everywhere, to disappearing to nowhere.

It's a dangerous, addictive routine.

It must be stopped, but alas it lives on.

We breathe not with our lungs. But with the wires.

We feel not with our minds, but with the wires.

We love not with our hearts, but with our idols and false illusions, created by the network.

We are in a machine. Welcome to your life.

Everything's fine.

Feeling as if everything I've ever wanted
Disguised as a dream
A tainted dream
Has pulled me
Pulled me through the streets of hope
Of dread

I can't get away from this force
It keeps pushing me
Pushing me
Through a vision of what I've dreamt of

Beautiful
Uncomfortable
A new chapter,
Please don't end so quickly

Parfois je me sens que je suis morte dans ce monde.

C'est difficile d'expliquer, mais si je dis ça, la société pensera que je suis folle.

Tout le monde a peur de la vérité.

There she is, like a wildflower sitting on top of the world
You can see her, you can breathe her air
But you cannot touch her.

If she didn’t want to be found out
She wouldn’t dangle so close to the ground
Right?

If she allowed me to see her colors, smell the scent
And feel the petals,
She must want me to know more and more.

But I cannot obtain more.

No one seems to care, am I the only one
Who does treat this wildflower in an unheeded manner?

I admire the beauty, the mystery and the brilliance
Coming from this flower.
This is no typical flower, even if it is,
The fact that it is stuck up in the air, is unfair.

I cannot help but desperately crave to bring it down
Bring it down to ground level
And hold it tightly in my hands.

Even though it is out of my reach,
Even though I keep discovering more about this wildflower,
It will never be enough.

I will never learn enough.
I will never stop craving more.