When the words want to pour out so my mind doesn't become awfully flooded, there's a bad gateway that's blocking my way.
This error message has been preventing me from posting on here a lot more often lately. I wonder if any of you are experiencing the same thing on this site. Hopefully there's a resolution sooner rather than later. Thanks for reading.
I need peace or death. Maybe both. First peace and then death. Let me slowly drift off into a different world. Where there’s no constant pulling or pushing on your body and torture. In the mind, the soul, the heart, the eyes, the ears, the muscles, the skin. Let me sleep and know it’s over. I made it. To the other side after all. After all these nights and all these different tests and teachings. Not just useless torturing being left behind. It’s time to find some spirit guides. Take me on a boat and let me sail with you. See the moon so blue and bright with the stars shimmering. And when I close my eyes I’m floating, leaving the demon body. Smiling at how it’s lying there and I am free to go.
To the other side. Syonide. To the other side. Syonide. To the other side Syonide.
Obviously No one needs Special devices to Focus somewhere In the unknown And get lost
Gaze into the eyes Of beloved For a little more And find The entire universe So much to offer
Genre: Almost Romantic Theme: Mirroring Author's Note:Excuse me. I humbly request all upcoming persons to have patience to visit me, allowing a blissful break, 30 seconds or more. While I'm in the mood, while looking at the eyes in order to search the clues of illness, I may forget what to notice, but may find the gateway to the soul. Remember that.
It happens too easily these days... I end up with a mustache or a teardrop. Together they're too much but none is not enough. Crying over love or pressure. Never both. Never together at the same time. Living in solitude. Among the other lost ones that sometimes forget how lost they are. Escaping in the walk to the grocery shops. Or the drilling through the walls. The brick walls that have holes now. At least it's warm outside... At least the sun is shining today. But I'm thinking as I'm sitting: what am I still doing? Still being. I need to go somewhere to find something else. Or else I'm a dead woman every day. Taken away by everything. Too much. A quirky little mustache. A pretty little tear. A dancing in the street. A song on the staircase. Real true love. Too much pressure. Too much. Mustache!