Channel: The anomaly
TIME TRAVEL
Today, I tripped on an old photograph and fell into my past,
My youth was hard to recognize but not impossible,
I could make out the warmth that was lost to the winter of adulthood, the softness lost to the rough touches of time,
But I could still see my eyes in hers,
Perhaps the spark had dimmed but the color remains unchanged,
I found myself missing the feel of a simpler world,
One which was an endless field of flowers and I held freedom in my hands,
One in which I ran for the sake of it and did so without the fear of falling,
But now I run because I must,
And I run not on a field but on a race track and against an opponent...both of which are life itself,
I am yet to finish my race nor am I willing to quit it,
But I can not help but miss the time my feet were rested,
I recall how tears were easily defeated by a piece of chocolate,
That was all it look, wasn't it?
Sugar meets tongue and all the worlds troubles fade away,
But of course these things don't stay the same,
And so I do not cry any more,
I've learned these tears are harder to dry as we age on,
so I stay strong,
I tilt my head, take a breath and lock them tight along with my thoughts,
While on my walk on memory lane I hear my name being spoken,
And like a splash of cold water it wakes me up to the present,
I return from my time travel and put the picture back where I found it,
In its box, in its prison,
And as I do I wonder what that little girl would think,
If ever she had the chance to look at my face...whether she would smile the same.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
Today, I tripped on an old photograph and fell into my past,
My youth was hard to recognize but not impossible,
I could make out the warmth that was lost to the winter of adulthood, the softness lost to the rough touches of time,
But I could still see my eyes in hers,
Perhaps the spark had dimmed but the color remains unchanged,
I found myself missing the feel of a simpler world,
One which was an endless field of flowers and I held freedom in my hands,
One in which I ran for the sake of it and did so without the fear of falling,
But now I run because I must,
And I run not on a field but on a race track and against an opponent...both of which are life itself,
I am yet to finish my race nor am I willing to quit it,
But I can not help but miss the time my feet were rested,
I recall how tears were easily defeated by a piece of chocolate,
That was all it look, wasn't it?
Sugar meets tongue and all the worlds troubles fade away,
But of course these things don't stay the same,
And so I do not cry any more,
I've learned these tears are harder to dry as we age on,
so I stay strong,
I tilt my head, take a breath and lock them tight along with my thoughts,
While on my walk on memory lane I hear my name being spoken,
And like a splash of cold water it wakes me up to the present,
I return from my time travel and put the picture back where I found it,
In its box, in its prison,
And as I do I wonder what that little girl would think,
If ever she had the chance to look at my face...whether she would smile the same.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
She looks at his work and tells him that it's a masterpiece;
He is reluctant to use her words as currency for his smile. He thinks about how it is unfortunate, that there is no art in the absence of pain. In one form or another, that one must have the desire to escape to create something otherworldly and he is no exception. which is to say that what she admires comes not from the best parts of him but rather from the tortured parts; the parts of him he wishes not to have. How sad, he thinks, that suffering often makes the best canvas.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
He is reluctant to use her words as currency for his smile. He thinks about how it is unfortunate, that there is no art in the absence of pain. In one form or another, that one must have the desire to escape to create something otherworldly and he is no exception. which is to say that what she admires comes not from the best parts of him but rather from the tortured parts; the parts of him he wishes not to have. How sad, he thinks, that suffering often makes the best canvas.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
The darker the night the slipperier our thoughts become,
let us speak no more for the ghosts could escape our tongues,
And we might just speak the truth.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
let us speak no more for the ghosts could escape our tongues,
And we might just speak the truth.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
My lips quiver,
These words like an earthquake shake them,
These words that desire to be free that I hinder,
Would you like to hear, my love?
What lies behind the lips you look at so longingly?
The lips you kiss till your lungs remind you to breath again?
But I will not tell you,
For I will like you to kiss me a bit longer.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
These words like an earthquake shake them,
These words that desire to be free that I hinder,
Would you like to hear, my love?
What lies behind the lips you look at so longingly?
The lips you kiss till your lungs remind you to breath again?
But I will not tell you,
For I will like you to kiss me a bit longer.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
"Funny seeing you here, again," it says, " Did you not say you wouldn't return? or have your feet betrayed you like they always do?"
It is not a question but a taunt. An act of digging the knife deeper into me.
"...Come now don't be ashamed, child. You are always welcome here...regardless of the number of times you try to abandon me."
I stay silent. I can not fall for these words that taste like home. This is not my home.
"You know It always baffles me where darkness got its bad rep. I get shoved into the back of your closet When all I've ever wanted to give you was freedom. You do know that, don't you? That is why keep coming, isn't it? Because here you don't have to remember who you need to be."
But don't we all desire to not be reminded of such things?
"With each time you return the fire in you gets dimmer. I can feel it now...your light getting swallowed by the gloom. But do not panic, dearest. You shall live to fight another day for your flames have not forsaken you just yet. But they will and soon. And until they do I will be here...waiting"
~M~
@fortheeccentric
It is not a question but a taunt. An act of digging the knife deeper into me.
"...Come now don't be ashamed, child. You are always welcome here...regardless of the number of times you try to abandon me."
I stay silent. I can not fall for these words that taste like home. This is not my home.
"You know It always baffles me where darkness got its bad rep. I get shoved into the back of your closet When all I've ever wanted to give you was freedom. You do know that, don't you? That is why keep coming, isn't it? Because here you don't have to remember who you need to be."
But don't we all desire to not be reminded of such things?
"With each time you return the fire in you gets dimmer. I can feel it now...your light getting swallowed by the gloom. But do not panic, dearest. You shall live to fight another day for your flames have not forsaken you just yet. But they will and soon. And until they do I will be here...waiting"
~M~
@fortheeccentric
LIVING DREAM
"She can't be real",
Even after feeling her palms on mine,
After having her rap her arms around me,
After waking up to the warmth of her flesh,
I still have that thought,
I imagine if the angels were to sing a being to life it would look like her,
I imagine if all the ice creams in the world congregated to choose the sweetest among them it would taste like her,
I imagine if adam and eve had escaped with a hidden piece of paradise it would feel like her,
How sad that to everyone else she is only human...but I guess that leaves more of her for me,
"She is a pretty woman," they say,
No, she isn't pretty,
She is the face my ancestors would fight wars to return to,
She is the body sculptures spend decades to mold and still come short of,
She is the scent that can bring a man back to life,
And ever since my resurrection she has sustained my soul,
I have spent decades with her,
Very often I wonder how she fell in love with an ordinary man,
How God saw me fit to be her eternal company,
But I guess there as some wonders in this world we can't understand,
And so I lay at night next to my dream dreaming of the life I'm living because even in my sleep...there's nowhere else I'd rather be.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
"She can't be real",
Even after feeling her palms on mine,
After having her rap her arms around me,
After waking up to the warmth of her flesh,
I still have that thought,
I imagine if the angels were to sing a being to life it would look like her,
I imagine if all the ice creams in the world congregated to choose the sweetest among them it would taste like her,
I imagine if adam and eve had escaped with a hidden piece of paradise it would feel like her,
How sad that to everyone else she is only human...but I guess that leaves more of her for me,
"She is a pretty woman," they say,
No, she isn't pretty,
She is the face my ancestors would fight wars to return to,
She is the body sculptures spend decades to mold and still come short of,
She is the scent that can bring a man back to life,
And ever since my resurrection she has sustained my soul,
I have spent decades with her,
Very often I wonder how she fell in love with an ordinary man,
How God saw me fit to be her eternal company,
But I guess there as some wonders in this world we can't understand,
And so I lay at night next to my dream dreaming of the life I'm living because even in my sleep...there's nowhere else I'd rather be.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
I recognize hints of home in your eyes,
Their pull, like gravity, centers me,
So please, do not turn your face,
For each time you do I lose my footing and get lost in space,
Bring me back to you,
For although vast all is dark when you are gone.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
Their pull, like gravity, centers me,
So please, do not turn your face,
For each time you do I lose my footing and get lost in space,
Bring me back to you,
For although vast all is dark when you are gone.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
STRAIGHT LOOPS
In attempting to cross the frail bridge from who I am to who I ought to be,
I slip and fall into the abyss of nomad's land,
I become paralyzed in the darkness,
Trapped with myself that has now become no more than a stranger,
No present and no future; just a stateless state of existence where my every breath brings more questions,
Questions I can not answer or rather I chose not to answer so as to postpone the sight of my true reflection,
I rather complain from willful ignorance than know the truth because truth does not pity the weak,
Truth leaves no room for excuses,
And so I remain killing time just as much as it kills me,
Trying to decide which way to climb when the self I know says I'm too good for it and the self I long for says I'm not good enough,
I stay and bite my nails and pray to the God that's probably too far to hear my whispers,
"Please...help me."
In the absence of a miracle I give away to sleep,
When I awake I find my foot about to take the first step onto that dreadful bridge,
I fall back in panic and promise myself never again,
And I keep my promise until the next time I break it.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
In attempting to cross the frail bridge from who I am to who I ought to be,
I slip and fall into the abyss of nomad's land,
I become paralyzed in the darkness,
Trapped with myself that has now become no more than a stranger,
No present and no future; just a stateless state of existence where my every breath brings more questions,
Questions I can not answer or rather I chose not to answer so as to postpone the sight of my true reflection,
I rather complain from willful ignorance than know the truth because truth does not pity the weak,
Truth leaves no room for excuses,
And so I remain killing time just as much as it kills me,
Trying to decide which way to climb when the self I know says I'm too good for it and the self I long for says I'm not good enough,
I stay and bite my nails and pray to the God that's probably too far to hear my whispers,
"Please...help me."
In the absence of a miracle I give away to sleep,
When I awake I find my foot about to take the first step onto that dreadful bridge,
I fall back in panic and promise myself never again,
And I keep my promise until the next time I break it.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
To live was no choice of mine,
I just woke up one day with the weight of my soul,
Wasn't that how it was for all of us?
Weren't we given this being that we call ourselves with no warning?
To carry, to cry for and to cry from?
And so I say again...to live was no choice of mine,
But I figured while I'm here I might as well do it anyway.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
I just woke up one day with the weight of my soul,
Wasn't that how it was for all of us?
Weren't we given this being that we call ourselves with no warning?
To carry, to cry for and to cry from?
And so I say again...to live was no choice of mine,
But I figured while I'm here I might as well do it anyway.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
Who lives remembering they will die?
Not deceived by the world into thinking that they are immortal?
For I would like to know them,
I would like for them to teach me how.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
Not deceived by the world into thinking that they are immortal?
For I would like to know them,
I would like for them to teach me how.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
Darkness sends its weakest soldiers, yet I sill fall,
It seems this pseudo-armor of mine only fools the mortals,
All that is not good in me comes to life in the dangerously comforting night,
My dear, you do not know me,
I do not know myself,
Only it does.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
It seems this pseudo-armor of mine only fools the mortals,
All that is not good in me comes to life in the dangerously comforting night,
My dear, you do not know me,
I do not know myself,
Only it does.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
Tonight the memories I have kept in the catacombs of my brain came to life,
Starved for my sorrows they clung to my eyes and fed on my tears,
My guilt...my shame, won't you ever release me?
Won't I ever find peace?
~M~
@fortheeccentric
Starved for my sorrows they clung to my eyes and fed on my tears,
My guilt...my shame, won't you ever release me?
Won't I ever find peace?
~M~
@fortheeccentric
You didn't see it today,
While you and I were walking close but untouching,
Our shadows formed under the sun that shined for their service,
They touched and intertwined unhindered by the pull of doubt and pride,
They embraced and kissed till the clouds dismissed them,
Somehow we had made ghosts whose love rose jealousy in my soul,
And so I wondered, my dear, if we would ever live up to them.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
While you and I were walking close but untouching,
Our shadows formed under the sun that shined for their service,
They touched and intertwined unhindered by the pull of doubt and pride,
They embraced and kissed till the clouds dismissed them,
Somehow we had made ghosts whose love rose jealousy in my soul,
And so I wondered, my dear, if we would ever live up to them.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
Most of us are merely waiting for death; and some of us are hoping it arrives early.
~M~
@fortheeccentric
~M~
@fortheeccentric
Is it possible to become your dream?
To somehow catch that decieving ever-distant cloak and wear it?
To finally become the enemy of your weaknesses?
To embody years of hopes and wishes?
To be the person unrecognizably enviable by your present self?
Oh, could we ever?
And will we then be enough?
~M~
@fortheeccentric
To somehow catch that decieving ever-distant cloak and wear it?
To finally become the enemy of your weaknesses?
To embody years of hopes and wishes?
To be the person unrecognizably enviable by your present self?
Oh, could we ever?
And will we then be enough?
~M~
@fortheeccentric
What does it mean to live a good life? What does it mean to live a meaningful one? Does the former imply the latter or the latter the former? Is there a definition for either and steps on how to get there? Or are these terms arbitrary? Open to the messy playground that is the human mind? Can one’s life be judged through the lens of another and would such judgment hold any weight? Or is it all subjective? Is it all under the umbrella of “What’s good or meaningful to me might or might not be to you and it matters not either way”? I guess all this is to ask;
How do we measure the outcome of our existence?
~M~
@fortheeccentric
How do we measure the outcome of our existence?
~M~
@fortheeccentric
"Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living."
~Jonathan Safran Foer~
@fortheeccentric
~Jonathan Safran Foer~
@fortheeccentric
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