| And it's so cold outside and it's so cold within. And there's ice everywhere and the city's so white. With a blue glow. And I'm so cold within and I feel like my skin is peeling off. Falling off like dead leaves that leave the tree. And I don't know what's next. I don't know what's after. Death. The primal darkness before light. Creation? Tired and blue, and wishing that just loving you was enough... But it never is. You always have to deal with the mundane details too. Do I create my own reality or do I just perceive it? It's hard to know what's true these days. The line becomes hazy. And with becoming a creator great power comes. But some of the excitement is lost because there's great wonder in being adrift. At mercy. If I only knew how to translate my love into a fitting form for the practical world... But I don't. I don't know how to. A part of me melts away mirroring the ice on the streets. How to learn to flow with the seasons of life instead of resisting? How to let go off dead skin? How to leave without leaving? How to love without loving? How to be everything when you're really nothing? How to make the subtle fit into the gross? How to make the limitless limited because you have to... because life is limits. When you don't want to jump out of the cliff but there's nothing on the other side either.... you just close your eyes and hope that things will be the best they can be... you hope there's some kind of inherent intelligence and coherence behind it all... AND YOU JUMP |
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