Dream on ! Dreamer
Internally screaming,
screaming internally.
On top of my lungs,
almost all of the times.
Regardless of a deep syringe wound,
intense pain, no visible remorse.
As I freed one lip from the grip of another.
Let my mouth open.
It turned into a sigh and disappeared in thin air.
All of that , all of it at once.
All I could do for me was watch.
Why didn't we say anything?
Why didn't you tell , or I ask , why ?
That pain to sigh scene.
Explains to me, that no matter how big a problem seems, it's actually small.
Oh ! Oh how I wish I could take this philosophical shit seriously.
Ha !
How wonderfully man twists and turns the paper ,
made of smart lines put together .
To wrap their troubles.
Then place them somewhere in a corner .
The little lies , we tell people.
So those humble hearted on the outside
but rotten to the core on the inside.
Don't take their rose colored glasses off.
Ourselves included.
Justifying things ,
just because it hurt a little.
Just because we can manipulate,
we use this poison of a medicine on us as well, sometimes.
Slow poison, darling!
The moment you realize,
that little hurt could've made you more human .
Brought you closer to reality.
You notice to have drunk too much of a drug called "The tale of words to get by ".
When the time was right
You turned your back on it.
Went back to being a mysterious being.
Feeling something else to avoid feeling what you should at the moment .
Irony !
If I'd ask you, to turn into a fish.
You'd say ," I'd rather be a human being ".
Yet , here we are.
Species, without humanity.
That pain , a dose of it.
If you drink that bitter tasting medicine.
You'll get closer to the beauty of reality.
Not too much , just a little drop at a time.
Open your eyes.
See the thorns ,
and the rose.
Perfect, because of little imperfections.
Each with a purpose of it's own.
Even the purposeless seems meaningful.
Everywhere you look.
Ideal bores me, like a blank white wall.
Some could though,
stare at it like it's the most interesting thing.
Let's leave those cases be ,
for later discussion.
To the person sighing.
Do you really think some advice could solve your problem?
What an idiot!
Ofc ! It seems small to those looking at it from the outside.
Take a spoon , put it in a fish bowl.
Stir it .
To you, it's a little thing.
To that fish , it's utter chaos.
In reality .
It's less , your problem.
That weary heart on fire, in a smoke filled room .
Compressed to sigh and let out.
Yes , it's nothing.
That's because, it's from their p.o.v. .
Not yours.
People change habits.
You changed perspectives, to not have to deal with the problem.
To avoid what's present right before your eyes , you chose to not remain yourself.
For the time being.
Well , human you never fail to amaze me !
Amused ! Aren't we ?
Dancing, on the music played in honour of our own mysery.
Great warriors dancing in the ball .
After defeating their own conscience.
While there laid corpes of their own dead dreams and hopes .
Of themselves, in the youth of their frozen hearts.
Now machine beating in evolved mechanisms that gave a false reflection , like flesh.
Feeling ! Isn't that all about being alive.
Being man !
All they see is a sigh.
In this world , a problem's not big enough,
till it looks like one.
When , it does .
It's too late to save.
Too late to give , receive, apologise, be grateful or anything else.
Was it really worth it ?
Trying to ACT like a certain machine body.
Trapping out feelings in an exit less tower.
Keeping them away from the scene.
Avoiding mysery, not letting vulnerability be seen on our faces.
When the time has passed , that's when we question it .
Man ! Your movie entertained me, but to be a good one, the plot failed.
Idk if a man who's never cried is a strong one or not .
But if you have , and you've explained things , been embarrassed about it.
It's perfectly fine.
You're certainly human.
You sure are brave.
It's an admirable quality.
Be okay with it.
No matter how they reacted to it.
It's okay to feel perplexed .
When facing a little something.
Often when we discuss someone's problem , we think logically.
We use our head , so their solution seems easy .
When the problem's one's own though, we feel .
The head and heart make a deadly combination.
Together, as they look for a way to solve things.
If you've been there,
you'd know what I'm saying.
That ballroom you danced , with the corpse laid floor on.
Those dreams , if you pick any up again.
It'll gain form.
You thought, they faded with time but no .
It's not dead really.
Pick it up.
It's yours, nurse it like a kid.
Don't listen to them.
The demeaning voices belong to those present before you,
not those with you.
Not you.
It's your head ,
they haven't been in it.
Whether it's a garden in spring or a war going on in there.
None else'd know.
Tell me , can you know there's lava prepared and the volcano's ready to erupt as a lay man wrt that subject?
No .
If you call this virtual place with masked aliens, " reality ".
Then be it .
It can seem like a tiring nightmare.
Where one can never tell real or fake apart completely.
You can though,
close your eyes.
Go to sleep.
The next morning,
wake up.
Blend in , it's fine,
never completely.
Enjoy the good moments, learn from the sad things.
Dream a little dream for you.
That sweet little dream .
No one will steal it.
