I've made alot
of mistakes in my life. I am actually OK with that. Mistakes can be
good. You can sometimes get the most rewarding experience just by
having something bad happen to you. Kind of like love, or sometimes
maybe losing a job. All part of that same extreme of an emotional
vein. Again, that bittersweetness.
Fuck the mistakes. Fuck the regrets. Now is my time. For anyone at my age, it is their time. And for people who are older, it was and still MAY BE their time as well. It is your prime, your time to complete and set up the things and goals you want to achieve in your life. And so here we are. It's time to have loud conversations in places I've never been; time to ride in backseats of cars at night with the windows down and my mouth open, singing all of the words; time to drive fast, without regret, towards the only thing you could ever hope to aspire or achieve. Highest possible potential output. A Firecracker. Time to throw change at drunkards sitting in gulleys and alley ways of streets I do not know the name of. Time to play acoustic songs at night on sidewalks covered with people most faithful to being a night owl. Fuck getting change in the case, play to play. Time to write a postcard from a town, not so far away. Maybe then after that, a town very far away. Kiss it, seal a piece of yourself with everything. Never give in to the illision that things aren't possible. That all is lost. That I've completely fallen. A gust under wings ideas are. Time to bleed from some minor cut which happens at the expense of an excellent memory. Forget living. Absorb life. We only "live" in our pasts and in our futures. What about "living" in the present, right now.
Time for taking pictures of first time occurences and remembering them forever. Sweet smells, sad faces, light hearts, and bright lights. All of the imaginations of a dreamer. Complacent in all aspects, BUT consciousness. Time for heavy looks towards strangers I don't know,
in love with the world and it's sad, great possibilities.
Time for eating in some random restaurant across town, glancing out windows wondering, glancing at girls faces. Piercing my eyes, more gazes than one. Content with all of the facts. Kissing the air. Running and shouting. Chasing you in the snow. The mixtures of everything and nothing. The mixtures of you and me, sea air, and straws for our drinks. Forget your sandals on my floorboard, let the sand on your legs dry and flake from your skin. The sun hot but the nights bold with dark and yet swallow my sins. My mistakes.
Drink up this night and wither my days. For our pictures of seas and attendance of plays.
^_^
Sep 11, 2006
Fuck the mistakes. Fuck the regrets. Now is my time. For anyone at my age, it is their time. And for people who are older, it was and still MAY BE their time as well. It is your prime, your time to complete and set up the things and goals you want to achieve in your life. And so here we are. It's time to have loud conversations in places I've never been; time to ride in backseats of cars at night with the windows down and my mouth open, singing all of the words; time to drive fast, without regret, towards the only thing you could ever hope to aspire or achieve. Highest possible potential output. A Firecracker. Time to throw change at drunkards sitting in gulleys and alley ways of streets I do not know the name of. Time to play acoustic songs at night on sidewalks covered with people most faithful to being a night owl. Fuck getting change in the case, play to play. Time to write a postcard from a town, not so far away. Maybe then after that, a town very far away. Kiss it, seal a piece of yourself with everything. Never give in to the illision that things aren't possible. That all is lost. That I've completely fallen. A gust under wings ideas are. Time to bleed from some minor cut which happens at the expense of an excellent memory. Forget living. Absorb life. We only "live" in our pasts and in our futures. What about "living" in the present, right now.
Time for taking pictures of first time occurences and remembering them forever. Sweet smells, sad faces, light hearts, and bright lights. All of the imaginations of a dreamer. Complacent in all aspects, BUT consciousness. Time for heavy looks towards strangers I don't know,
in love with the world and it's sad, great possibilities.
Time for eating in some random restaurant across town, glancing out windows wondering, glancing at girls faces. Piercing my eyes, more gazes than one. Content with all of the facts. Kissing the air. Running and shouting. Chasing you in the snow. The mixtures of everything and nothing. The mixtures of you and me, sea air, and straws for our drinks. Forget your sandals on my floorboard, let the sand on your legs dry and flake from your skin. The sun hot but the nights bold with dark and yet swallow my sins. My mistakes.
Drink up this night and wither my days. For our pictures of seas and attendance of plays.
^_^
Sep 11, 2006
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