There was a bird in the sky
Wandering above our kind
Wondering if we were blind
Closing our eyes to a lie

A human seemed like a slave
Pawns attracted to the ground
Never wanting to be bound
Yet he could see them behave

But the free bird did not know
That despite their condition
Humans shared values and passion
Empathy, love that they show

The joyful bird was singing
He was happy of his state
The master of his own fate
Alone in the sky winging
She hung on threads of anxiety

Then that last thread was free...

She was finally released

What a difference when the heart was allowed to beat

Completely at peace
Take my clothes
One bag
Forget the sentimentals
Start again
Quit my job
Free again
Open my mind
Just roaming
Tell no one
Just go
To where next
Who knows
No plans needed
Just wanderlust
Dessert Sea Snow
Baring all
Never ending journey
Forever going
A lost soul
Just wondering
Home is not a place, but a feeling.
I could hear a pin drop.

No, a ball of cotton lightly float and touch down.
Upon a silk sheet.

A speck of dust land on another speck of dust thousands of light years away,
where the colours are inverted negative,
and creatures communicate in a way that doesn’t require poorly worded drunken blurbs
converted into electrons
travelling from one annoyingly loud metal chip to another.

I can hear the electrons converting
and I can hear them laughing at me.

I am a speck of dust upon a speck of dust.
Ungracefully, heavily falling onto my creased sheets.

In the world where everyone want to share
their emotions and feelings to get free from it.

She hugged me and told me "I'm always there to listen to your problems and solve it."
Looking in the eyes,
of sinusoidal hypnotism.
Living in a vicious cycle.
Dying in a spiral prison,
What's the measure of the life I was given?
Young, male, white skin, straight, Christian,
And fuck in the missionary position.
If they ain't fittin' into this disposition,
Either ditch 'em in the field or the kitchen.
Steal their will and their children.
Passivity doesn't work against active aggression.
Back of the bus, back of the line,
And this bitch is my possession.

Looking in the eyes,
of sinusoidal hypnotism.
Living in a vicious cycle.
Dying in a spiral prison.
What's the measure of the life I was given?
It's money manufacturing to make a living.
Lack of education keeps you penny pinching.
Given just enough just enough rope for suicidal lynching.
Not to mention the mouths of your dependents.
Bacon laminated to the table with elbow grease.
Spread the bread and butter,
And do your best to stretch the cheese.
Still go the wheels on lease

Looking in the eyes,
of sinusoidal hypnotism.
Living in a vicious cycle.
Breaking out of spiral prison.
Never underestimate the seeds of persistence.
The fire of resistance stays alight in the heaviest blizzard.
Strikes upon the death of our leader.
Set the heathens free to search the heavenly ether.
Smitten in a godly instant.
Sorry, not sorry.
The whole affair is as shocking as kaminari.
I would love to discuss interpretation on this piece.
I have forgotten how to love myself
I don't think anything has changed
But I know they say
You learn to hate
Those you've been around too long

I think I'm here to stay
So should I just find another way?
Maybe the lack of change
Is the false whisper of comfort

There are chains on my ankles
And they are cutting through flesh
The one I hate put them there
Swallowed the key
Probably to feel less empty

But what about me?
But what about me?

There is an echo
It's the voice of a selfish fool
Who needs help
And doesn't know what to do
We have too much in common
Something has to change
But these chains
I wish I could wake up early
And greet the morning
"Hey, how you been doing?"
And it would ask me the same

I wish I could wake up early
And tell the sun
That I'm really trying
And that I'm sorry
For always lying to myself

I wish I could wake up early
Escape the darkness
That I keep serving
I don't know how much more
I can give

I wish I could wake up early
I wish I knew how to live
I wish I could better myself
I wish I had something else to give
I wish I could catch up to my dreams
I wish I knew what they were
I was going to go somewhere with this but then...? Oh well
The Blindness monotony,
Hurl your jokes my way.

Your play ball strikes as stone,
Not very much unlike that which is buried deep inside my heart,
And never shown.

Harmless, is in the eyes of the beholder, my friend.

Your jokes,
   Are my demons.
Your entertainment,
   Is my downfall.

So all I ask,
   Is that you walk a mile in my mind,
Then maybe you'll see,

Harmless jokes hurt sometimes,
  But don't mind me.

~Robert van Lingen
We conseal ourselves behind a mask,
To cover up our flaws and fears.
What are we so ashamed of?
Living as someone we are not.

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