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Came across this song Undisclosed Desries by Muse. Everything about it fits my life... |
Silver melodies have ever been the true savoir. I came upon such a hymn yesterday. It whispered sweet words, telling me everything I wanted to hear, and everything I would die to tell you. If only I had the will and the way. The verses speak of a lover, but to me they speak of a united pair, unable to see their descendant mistakes and consequences. When I heard the first chorus, I wanted to cry. I tried. I failed. And I wanted it to hurt. I prayed it would stab my own heart. Nothing. I wrote a letter to God once. I called him a bastard. Then I abandoned him. Left him the dust on a rush hour freeway. The song inspired the artist in me. So I drew. I drew a self portrait, one side was myself. The other half was <i>me</i> and every secret I want to scream to the world. I spent so long building up silver walls and practicing an icy cast to my hazel eyes that I forgot how to feel the simple emotions. I can no longer speak to those close to me. I am too petrified to show them flaw. Someone give me a stranger. Someone who knows nothing about me. Someone who has never seen me without make-up on. Someone who doesn’t know I shade in my eyebrows. Someone beg that someone to tell <i>them</i> I tell people I am strong and that I don’t need anybody. If I don’t tell them that, I am afraid of upsetting them. I don’t want to look the over dramatic, attention seeking failure I tell my self I am in light on the digital clock and six A.M. I don’t sleep at night because that is the only time I am free. That is the only time I have to think for myself. The idea comes at One, after I finish reading. The way comes at three. The finished route beats out a path by three. The finished plan arrives at four. <i>The action never comes.</i> The doubts seep in around five. The fear, at six. The alarm, at seven. The make-up at eight. The charade at nine. I think I could have picked at my reasons and actions until my soul bled raw. But I don’t know that I would have felt the blood. I don’t know that I would have let myself. Until yesterday. Sometimes it only takes three minuets and fifty-six seconds to want to change your habits. |