I often look weird in photos, maybe because I'm vain When I'm certain I'm smiling, I appear to be in pain I could practice my friendly expression in the mirror But then I'd have a stiff face and probably look insane
Nakabibingi ang tunog ng katahimikan Katahimikang pumapaimbulog sa karimlan BinaLi ang sungay... buntot ay nabahag.... NakasisiLaw na tila maLiyab na sunog etong Liwanag Liwanag na magbibigay linaw sa iniwang bakas ng alingawngaw Puwing na hinipan... Hagip pati ang tahip na tinalupan !
What is it to be a wild child? Is it staying out even after the stars have taken over the sky? Is it having a mouth of a sailor? Or drinking like a pirate? And loving American pie?
What does the world see as wild? What does it mean to be wild? Are actions which are reckless only considered free and fly?
Breaking stigmas is what all of us want to do, But how much are we doing it? And how much are we just following the hype?
I’ll take a penny for my thoughts, Not a glass of wine. How can anyone be considered wild until what they are doing is coming out from their own minds, Mild down your thoughts they say, But I try not to let it affect my choice.
Why bother fitting in? When you can be a book, They have a hard time defying.
What if we all become our own books.. Then maybe all of us will truly become wild, And not just followers of the given hype
IF you follow me bring the dead along for all the children have suffered and all madmen pollute || ~~ IS GAME OVER “? between sun-beating down & STARS beating psychotic clowns/ the pogo clown has died forever. If you could you might adjust your eyes against all monsters that follow …kiss me if you survive \perishing is a buildingGRACE of reSKINNING the Soul (oh whoa oh whoa oh wow oh no oh hey) …just say the hardest price to pay // are the things for free // eat and drink remain my memory deeply between crimson & sun-baked lips (music stretches thinner e a c h & e v e r y d a y carry on even if the stars extinguish the very hurt you receive time & space str e t c h ed pass a threshold of mortal pain…you see and creation is reversed forward God have mercy upon our weakened hearts shame shame it’s the only world we have and each other — there ain’t no denying (OH mother! No denying LIFE is a THORN against my eyes; as i bend down i try to find my BEING within a deeply yelled moan; i’m dying i’m dying i’m rolling round a desert stream — shambhala come again against trail dust and kasmir i am waiting i am decaying i am a mote of Poet t r aveling inside OPEN space considered: static syntax and congealed moments upon the professional grace of unspoken words. whoa…whoa…it’s the hardest price to pay when things so expensive are for free.