My Perfection.

I want to leave a foot print on the world. I want to feed minds. I want to make something that is a treat for the eyes, heart, soul - everything. A film that when you watch it, you feel inspired and full of life. That when those credits roll up you can't press stop, you just sit there, embracing every last second of that experience.
Parts of my days just feel like scenes to me. I should be able to say 'cut' and they will all fall away and change to something else. Like there should be music playing out loud at specific points and not just in my head. Like the tint of colour over the world should change slightly according to my mood. Like everyone else around me should be overcome with hate when I am angry, and sadness when I feel alone, And a smile should grace their faces when I am happy.

One day I will be known.

Ever felt like your'e having an orgasm in the top of your stomach?

I could write about the sun or the clouds, about fire and water, about dust and grit. All are words i choose to replace harder, more honest words.

Sometimes I have nothing to write.
Sometimes I get distracted or all I see are images I can't put in to words.

I have realised latley that it doesn't exist. And that you shouldn't live your life looking for someone else. It is a waste. And every day you get is a gift. From God, that elephant with lots of arms or just the universe, what ever your beliefs each day has been given to you. So it is ungreatful to waste your days. Although it is easier said than done. Happiness can only be found in yourself, it shouldn't have to come from someone else.

But how can something that feels so right and so indistructable, be wrong? When all the signs are there, like flipping a coin 10 times and the same answer comming up 9 times out of 10, or songs comming on one after the other on those days that are too weird to ignore. Like the word on the back of a van then a sign on the motorway. Like knowing exactly when someone is upset when you're miles away and just "get a feeling".
I could go on for ages. So how can it be wrong?


Because as well as each day being a gift, it is also a test. To see if you can carry on, because the universe likes to test you. Like a little boy burning ants through a magnifying glass. We are toys to the gods.

But each day you pass, you pass a test. And that you should be proud of. And that is what keeps me going.

Staring at silence.

Ever looked at your phone just a second before it starts ringing? Why did you look at it? When you're not even expecting a call?

I keep day dreaming. I am happiest when i do. Because when you dream at night you have no control over what happends, but in the day dreams it is whatever you want. I never noticed before though, that they are slowly creeping into real life. I keep dreaming of perfect people and a perfect me in a perfect life where I will age but never actually grow old. I think that I will will find someone who makes me feel like celebrities do. That weird tingly feeling where you want to watch all of their films and not want their scenes to end. Even walking sometimes feels perfect to me. Like a certain way I put one foot infront of the other. At the most calming pace, like I have no where to go and it is effortless and pointless but I am walking because I can.

But sometimes, imperfections creep into my perfect world. Like I will line something up, I will be tidying something and I will place objects so neatly in the corners of a table or perfectly in a box and it makes me feel good, but when I stop, I realise that they will never be perfectly in line. And I have to ignore that feeling because it is so wrong. I think this is how OCD's start.

I had a dream about her last night. She was wearing a blonde wig and she would only take off the blonde wig and reveal her naturally brown hair when she was alone with me. I know what this means. But weather it is true or not is a different story.

Is it really so much in life to ask for honesty? Surely so many situations would sort out if you knew 100% that there was no chance of a person lying. This is where trust comes in. Because we can't prove things, we have to trust if we want to get anywhere in life. But alot of the time, the trust is a lie, but we have to do it anyway otherwise we will never know, and if you want something so badly, you will risk it, and trust.

Monsters

I watched two films, one yesterday, and one the day before. One is called 'He Was A Quiet Man' and it was so moving and honest because it explained that this one man dreamed of a girl, and no matter what the situation was, she could never love him. He could never have someone like her, and sometimes people feel so worthless that they feel life isn't worth living. People need to realise that somedays you pass people by, like homeless people or people in an office. And even if you give them a few seconds of your time or even a simple smile or a chat, or even that spare poud or dollar in your pocket, it may be the highlight of that persons day. And it didn't really cost you a thing. You could've saved someones life that day and you didn't even notice.

The second film I watched is called 'Monster'. It shows you that even the biggest criminals have their reasons, I am not saying everyone. No way. Some people are just sick, but alot of people do bad things because they are just trying to survive or that life has been so unbearably cruel to them. They could be facing death and torture every day and you can't just simply brand someone a murderer and then that be a fullstop. I am not saying it is an excuse to kill or be evil but some people have reasons. It doesn't make it right, but it shows that the world is so epicly messed up and there are so many layers to people and situations that so many people overlook.

Effortless Breath Does Not Exist.

To forget is an impossible task if the subject has been branded into your mind with a hot iron. Advice from the tounge of a friend seems rediculous but you know it is somehow true. To be healthy, you need your memory wiped once in a while. I am sorry to say this is not possible. Not for important things, these life changing events cannot be discarded. It is the life that is fed to you. A curse that hangs over you. And as much as people tell you to forget, they never seem to remember that in life, it is impossible to live without air.

Everything.

When the moon creates a path to me, when the stars will all bow down to me. When the grass beneath my feet appears greener for me, I will surrender. I am all of what I seem to be, and nothing of what eyes strike me. She is unpredictable, poisoning my thoughts of nostalgia. I passed rubicon many years ago. Now i have no choice. I could say I am haunted. And some days this is true. But it is also true that behind the haunting there is the sun, there is the world, the universe and all its glory, surrounding me forever. The sun will never shy away, yet the stars will never burn up. Even in times of dispair I will always think of this angel that graces my world. And even though the ice that freezes the bosom valve, there shall be fire within, for I have felt what some fear they will never experience. Some would say they have luck, I could not comment. It is all fantastic and hopeless, earth warming and unbearable. It penatrates your soul and if true, is irreversible.

If any danger surrounds her, I will surround her. If death comes toward her, I will intervene. If i stand here to protect her, no man shall move me. For my reason of exsistance is clear. I am here.

The worlds.

Between this planet and the one above, there is fire and blood. The massacre of the walls is obvious. From the violent escape, veins hang from the bricks and and stone cold eyes flicker like a flame, then die. It is a gruesome escape, but an escape none the less. Do not be distracted by this hideous sight, for there are angels on the other side. You have won.

Burning Window

Outside is breaking through my window with an orange flame, a sunset that seems to be fighting. And another day is gone. The moon will glow and the stars will shine so lonley. With memories floating through the air, carried by clouds on the wind. I wonder, this world cannot have been made. It is too beautiful and rare. It has to be magic. Explosions and falling water, mixing up a new potion of being, one that the universe and the gods have never seen. But, to feel alone in this world is to feel deep within it, so deep that you are beneath the soil and the rocks. Hope keeps you alive knowing that there is beauty out there somewhere, even if your view is some what restricted. Hope shall keep you breathing, and the stories of fate and love will keep you yearning.