Journals: UNDONE

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miércoles, 30 de mayo de 2007

THE MAD MAN

I SAW THE MAD MAN
AND I FELL FOR HIM
WHY DO WE INSIST IN LOVING CHAOS?
WHY DO WE EMBRACE OUR TENDENCY OF SELF DESTRUCTION?
WHAT IS SO WRONG WITH ME?

IS IT SO HARD TO TELL RIGHT FORM WRONG?

ISN'T IMPLIED THAT I HAVE TO KNOW BETTER THAN THIS.....

IS IT THE HEART REALLY JUST MUSCLE.... AND THE BRAIN FAT?

JOURNALS, drop by drop a spoon with my own medicine

In a world so full of anger. In a work so full of noise. In a house so full of people. In a heart so full of love. The need of words is vain. The comprehension of them is utopia. The complaining is useless for a change. But does certainly poison the air, embitter the living... I just want to breathe... I just want to live. If I am to place my trash can in my journalistic expression in order to clean my space to sublime my spirit…so I must. If you bounce in this virtual corner, forgive all the mess, and ignore the complaining… I have to free some ideas and chain down some demons… so be it.