Hey little girl/With the dusky eyes/Holding inside her secret surprise/Hey little girl/Your innocence blinds/Hold it, keep it, deep inside/As you grow and start to know/Of all the dark and terror/Don't forget the little girl inside/Who watched the world with dusky eyes
Snow falls down onto the city
Silencing our "advanced" society
Hushing the cars and the noise
The city falls asleep
Inside homes, some old fathers
And mothers turn out the lights
And tell tales that their grandparents told them
Who heard it from their grandparents who heard it from theirs
Going back until the tales were born in far off lands
In the bitter grip of winter
When legends were told for the first time
By the ones who saw them themselves
The elves walking through the snow
While the wind blows and shadows move
Across the snow
Creeping out of corners into the hearts of their people
The superstitious ones, the tale tellers
The ones who ruin our children
Who fill their heads with nonesense
But the children listen to the tales
And then they leave; one there, two there
Until only a few are left
These last few are the talelisteners
The dreamers unconfined by science
And laws made by it
They know that in the winter science dies
And they listen to the oldest tales
While their parents shudder from behind the door
Then the dreamers, the tale believers go out into the snow
To look for elves and unknown things
That lurk in winter's darkness
The dreams flee them just beyond their sight
I hear them outside my window
For I'm a taleteller, a superstitious one
And magic is real in the heart of winter
And in the hearts of the dreamers
Ever notice how there are always people in the back? At anything from, say, a rock concert to a seminar on how to chop wood, there is always a back row. Same thing with peace and equality. Everyone is not on the same level. In a world where everything is happy and peaceful, and everyone is equally important and given the same rights, there will always be a secret percent of the population that will be downtrodden and controlled. It's human nature: you stand taller if you're standing on someone else. Slavery and servitude will never be gone, but they can be pushed away for while. Have you ever cried yourself to sleep over the condition of the world? Well, stop it. What does the world care for a single person's tears. They are non existent. A better way to spend your time would be to try and change the world. But the inertia of Homo Sapiens is impressive. A better strategy for changing it would be walking along with it in a slight curve, rather than trying to make it go backwards. A slight curve will bring you where you want to be sooner or later. But back to the man in the back. He's sitting there, listening to the music and learning how to chop wood. He wants to be in the limelight, but, he's at the back. No chance for him to be in front. When suddenly he sees the rockstar/lumberjack gesture at him, and seems to hear him say "Hey, man in the back! Get up here!" He slowly trods up to the stage and climbs on. And he can't believe it when the rockerjack says to him, "So, what's up?"
You don't know what it's like
To be taken down by someone who should've lifted you up
Well neither do I
And you've never had a messy breakup that's screwed you up for years
Well I can't talk, and I can't tell you what it's like
To mess up your chance at happiness
Or be embedded in a dead-end relationship that won't give you room to turn around
Cause I've never had any of those happen to me
I've been standing on the sidelines
Off of center stage
Watching from the hallway
Dodging the love and rage
Maybe I should step in
I could pick up the beat pretty quick
But a dancer needs a partner
And I haven't found one yet
Can you hear that sweetly singing song
Beware, tis the piper
If a tall thin man comes strolling along
Beware, tis the piper
With his checked coat and his ancient flute
He plays a song so sweetly
But do not listen, do not stop
For he can make your will to drop
He'll lead you blindly on into the unknown
If you do this it's doubtful you will return home
Not to demonize him, no
He just goes where he wants to go
Playing for his own amusement- Lo!
I hear a flute, I must go
In leading your life, you occasionally make mistakes. Like every other minute, for example. The mistake that is easiest to make on a blog is, NOT SHOWING THE REAL YOU! I yelled that just to show how important it is. When you record your personality onto another medium besides your mind, you invariably focus on one aspect of it. Most often you dwell on the negative. Many people use blogs to unburden themselves of bad things that happened to them during that day. Feeling satesfied with that, they don't bother to record their happy moments. That can mislead people to a dangerous extent. If you have a "miserable" blog, be sure to include some of the happy things in your life, so then you will save the rest of us some worry. Hm, I feel a poem coming on
Life in real life is a mixture most lovely
Full of sunshine, rainy days and alliteration
But on the internet it becomes a tragic play
That threatens to end itself each day
To paint a clearer picture
Erase some of the blur
Make your sunshine brighter on your blog
Ensure that the rainclouds don't wallow like hogs
That wasn't a good rhyme, but look I'm not sad!
I can transpose it all, the good and the bad
Today I was thinking about a certain percent of the population. It belongs to no particular race, or gender. It covers all types of people. It's the sad and lonely people. You know, the kind that gives off the illusion of being happy, but if you happen to catch them by themselves, they always have a sad face on. They may be physically attractive, have great personalities, and be the kind of person who everyone likes. But inside they are gloomy, because they are all by themselves. Something is missing from them. In some of them it is the inability to form romantic relationships, in others they can't go beyond a superficial friendship. They long for companionship, but don't know how to vocalize their longings. If they aren't broken beyond repair in their younger years, (read teenage) they grow up to be the "lone wolf" type of person. Strong seeming, not liable to sharing their feelings, often involved in artistic things. They can be poets, rockers, painters, anything that will allow them to shunt their longings and emotions into another place. Or they just come crashing down, to fall off center stage and into the background. Someone who is known by many people, but plays a part in no life but theirs. They can be so sad and lonely, those poor little people.
Today I started a new blog, to contain all of my funny that never makes it onto this one. You can find it at its uniform resource locator. Go ahead, see if you can find it. I dare you.
(p.s.) I will continue to update this blog. I still love it. And I will keep it going for hopefully years to come.
The eternal question I can never ask
When will it be me?
When will the clouds be brushed away
Would you love me?
The desperate question I so want to ask
Which makes me fall in fear
Do you love me? could you love me?
Is what I want to ask
I could love you, I would love you
But someone would need to ask
I'd put your name into this line
And wait for love to bloom
But I can't do that, no I can't
I don't know if your heart has room
For a poor lonely soul like I
I know I should ask
But your "no" would make me cry
Or, perhaps, die.
