All the words I want to say Balled up, I throw away Because at the end of the day It doesn't matter anyway What will it change if I were to say The things in my chest, boiling away Coiled up, as if it were to say I am going to explode any day
Stand clear I’m a bomb and I’m set to explode. I swear It’s best that I do this alone.
Head for the hills love, Go lock your doors. It’s how I’m programmed, I can’t do more. Leave me be and let me explode.
You can’t stay here, love I can’t disengage. My manual is missing pages… Tonight, I’m shooting straight for the moon. Oh, I won’t be back soon. Tonight, I’m going to detonate. Oh, I don’t wanna be late. Don’t wait. Don’t wait for me.
It’s so weird... discovering how fragile ones mentality is...I have always expressed that it’s ok to need to live for something else when you can’t find the ability to live for yourself. So you do your best to build stability and optimism all while you feel like you are shattering one crack at a time. So what were to happen if what you are living for is jeopardized? Would you break completely or simply find something else to live for? What if it was the ONLY thing that you could live for in that moment? At times when I cannot bare to live for myself I live for my plants. They would not survive without me therefore I must keep going or they would not make it. The problem for living for something that’s alive is what would happen if that thing were to die? If the petals were to wilt and the stems drop and the flowers fade? What happens when your life has crashed and imploded at catastrophic proportions and the only thing to survive the disaster turns out to be dying? When every thing is going wrong and you are shattering one crack at a time and all you can live for are your plants then a massive crack splits you into a thousand little pieces and the only thing holding you together has began to shrivel along with your mentality. What am I to do now?
It was a dark and stormy day, Cooking tea in the usual way, This was my mother long ago, "Don't touch the pressure cooker, no!" Subtly, she left the scene, Forgot the cooker, its head of steam, Bang! Did that curry explode, Mum's response, implode! "Why didn't you check that stove?" "You told me not to touch it, no!" All I can say on this, fifty years later, Don't use pressure to cook my curry or taters!