Kinda simple really.
Poor innocent souls believe that those words are real...
They aren’t really sharing, rather loving a fantasy in their minds with themselves.
Feeling desired and wanted
Not really giving anything back.
One that has experienced a relationship, clicked really with anyone, words will not suffice while the presence of that person and a simple stare in the eyes happens to be more.... More than words
Wow....
Let’s say you go out for fun, get it and spread it to your family....
At the funerals everyone is gonna love your “sprayer” speech .
True form of expression.
One of which you convey your feelings and pour your soul into. No one will get it, becomes irrelevant unless two or more start to talk about it and then becomes cool.
A few years later, a bunch of experts will arise, debating the buts and ifs, but no one will ever know what the artist tough or felt when creating that piece.
Unless he/she gives an interview about it, in which he/she can still lie about the ulterior reason.
Time flies....
Slips trough your fingers like sand.
Seconds becomes minutes, hours turn into days, days are just wasted waiting for a tomorrow.
It’s harder when you are alone...
You relationship was all you had.
Not anymore....
You don’t even have that anymore.
You did well...
Made a living, got to achieve all you wanted...
You loved art, music....
Expressing yourself trough these means, meant something to you.
It does not anymore. Who cares anyway?
Who truly understands or relates.?
Those feelings were yours and yours alone
You have a well paying job that steals your soul every day, little by little consuming you...
Forcing you to please, serve and submit.
You don’t....
Somehow you still manage to be yourself and be admired for it.
You had a big house. 3 rooms, two bathrooms and a huge garden
Two cars at the door, all the new tech....
Was it happiness?
As she complained that you weren’t paying attention to her, you knew it wasn’t true...
You were there every day for her, you listened, paid attention.
Still wasn’t enough.
It never is
All that was yesterday....
Today is here and now.
All you have before means nothing.
You aim for something?
No
It’s easier than desiring and be let down
Who cares anyway?
In a few years you’ll be dead
You didn’t leave a mark on this world
You never understood this world and it never reciprocated either.
What’s there now?
Who are you?
Same that you were before, and will always ever be...
Nothing
Kinda simple really.
Poor innocent souls believe that those words are real...
They aren’t really sharing, rather loving a fantasy in their minds with themselves.
Feeling desired and wanted
Not really giving anything back.
One that has experienced a relationship, clicked really with anyone, words will not suffice while the presence of that person and a simple stare in the eyes happens to be more.... More than words
True form of expression.
One of which you convey your feelings and pour your soul into. No one will get it, becomes irrelevant unless two or more start to talk about it and then becomes cool.
A few years later, a bunch of experts will arise, debating the buts and ifs, but no one will ever know what the artist tough or felt when creating that piece.
Unless he/she gives an interview about it, in which he/she can still lie about the ulterior reason.
Wow....
Let’s say you go out for fun, get it and spread it to your family....
At the funerals everyone is gonna love your “sprayer” speech .
Nudes is to art as burgers are to gastronomy.
Just saying
Anything that helps me for falling asleep at work(I work at night)
Confess. You gonna put them running aren’t y’all?
Psssst. Drink water, it helps gettin fat...
Time flies....
Slips trough your fingers like sand.
Seconds becomes minutes, hours turn into days, days are just wasted waiting for a tomorrow.
It’s harder when you are alone...
You relationship was all you had.
Not anymore....
You don’t even have that anymore.
You did well...
Made a living, got to achieve all you wanted...
You loved art, music....
Expressing yourself trough these means, meant something to you.
It does not anymore. Who cares anyway?
Who truly understands or relates.?
Those feelings were yours and yours alone
You have a well paying job that steals your soul every day, little by little consuming you...
Forcing you to please, serve and submit.
You don’t....
Somehow you still manage to be yourself and be admired for it.
You had a big house. 3 rooms, two bathrooms and a huge garden
Two cars at the door, all the new tech....
Was it happiness?
As she complained that you weren’t paying attention to her, you knew it wasn’t true...
You were there every day for her, you listened, paid attention.
Still wasn’t enough.
It never is
All that was yesterday....
Today is here and now.
All you have before means nothing.
You aim for something?
No
It’s easier than desiring and be let down
Who cares anyway?
In a few years you’ll be dead
You didn’t leave a mark on this world
You never understood this world and it never reciprocated either.
What’s there now?
Who are you?
Same that you were before, and will always ever be...
Nothing
