When one hope is lost, it becomes a painful loss...meaning that the memory that contained that hope it's just an empty shell and that's precisely what it hurts: the sheer thought that once you had that hope, a thought that keeps flickering until the loss becomes a lack...Under the blur of time, even the memory fades and the container of the hope, the last trace of its existence, is erased. And one circle is complete, all the way from nothing...to nothing.
Leave the guard down and life will merciless cut through flash ...!
And that’s the difference between loss and lack!
Stars are twisting and the universe takes a turn I don’t think I like...But thank you for all you had! Down time started, give it all!
There’s this record I keep playing in my head. It’s a funny one, there’s no sound that comes out...but there’s something that absorbs the music from your soul. I fear the day there’ll be no sound left.
Come, don’t be afraid, my absurd one. It’s just the empty space between your code and mine. There was an art of happiness, true, but you are beyond that now. Ignorance was bliss! This is now the art of dying!
And that’s the difference between loss and lack!
Stars are twisting and the universe takes a turn I don’t think I like...But thank you for all you had! Down time started, give it all!
There’s this record I keep playing in my head. It’s a funny one, there’s no sound that comes out...but there’s something that absorbs the music from your soul. I fear the day there’ll be no sound left.
Come, don’t be afraid, my absurd one. It’s just the empty space between your code and mine. There was an art of happiness, true, but you are beyond that now. Ignorance was bliss! This is now the art of dying!
2 comments:
Ce va pun astia in mancare frate?
It is sometimes a mistake to climb; it is always a mistake never even to make the attempt. If you do not climb you will not fall. This is true. But is it that bad to fail, that hard to fall? Sometimes you wake, and sometimes, yes, you die. But there is a third alternative.
Because sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.
Post a Comment