Balance, moderation, discipline, all necessities for a healthy life, but from time to time, it's fun to exceed limits, give in to new sensations, as long as you know where to draw the line.
Your eyes tell, Your smile shows, That you wished to give us time, To start again, To love again, Under different circumstances, With no limits, With no hindrance, But with the same person, With the same feelings, A chance to live A chance to love, Eternally.
Sometimes , I am unable to resist an unknown force which pushes me to go beyond my limits and makes me a deaf for listening to all the **** that others say and think about me.
Excitement is like an obsession! If taken for the abundance type of a seriousness going OVER someone’s own limits, that is… Then you’d have something of a problem to say the least… Problems that govern different types of obsessions from totally overshadowing something that was just supposed to be the time of a GREAT “excitement” to come! But what do we say about something becoming merely “overexcited” …? Easy. But simplified for ALL “hearts content”. Is that you start to lose yourself in whatever event this very excitement is “legitimately” taken from. And just as there’s different types of excitement, there’s also even more different types of obsessions. One I know VERY WELL…. Because I simply have it. It’s what’s known as "obsessive compulsive disorder" (OCD)!
Poem about how excitement itself is like an obsession. Therefore, it could be either mistaken, or fully taken as OCD itself. PS... Entirely depends on your actions!
Have you ever been so high.. ..you touched the true colors... ...of our sky.. ..pinks, reds, oranges, a mass... Up..Up!..Up! FINALLY. Soaring without regard Your greatest peak.
There are days where I am high upon a dusk cloud And rustic skylines bleed into bare trees
There are days where I bleed into white sheets And I never leave the the lights on
There are days, and then more days And minutes within smiles, seconds ticking laughter, half assed conversation among fruitful hallways
Strawberry girl smiles and she would hate that I called her that And maybe she would hit me and maybe I’m an *******, and maybe I’m a baby
And I’m a baby.
I remember not knowing I could die, not ever thinking about my heart, not ever waisting any time. I should be that way now, And yet as clocks continue to tick I just hum along in the warmth So sometimes days become weeks But sometimes days are just too short And some days I am just to short For the heights I want to reach
I remember jumping had a different connotation when I was a kid...
