the good news and the bad news

the bad news is people leave you, the good news is you don't need to hold on to that many

the bad news is time flies, the good news is you're the pilot

the bad news is love is lost, the good news is it exists

the bad news is pain is everlasting, the good news is happiness is at least fleeting

the bad news is ugliness hurts, the good news is it decays

the bad news is beauty isn't appreciated, the good news is it's a joy forever

the bad news is life goes on, the good news is life ends

the bad news is poetry will fail eventually, the good news is it'll win in the moment

the bad news is you won't know which is which, the good news is neither are that bad, really

the bad news is finding beauty is so difficult, the good news is it finds you

the bad news is friends change, the good news is they still stay

the bad news is everything changes, the good news is everything changes

the bad news is nothing lasts forever, the good news is nothing lasts forever

the bad news is you just won't know, the good news is you just won't know

the bad news is trust and hope, the good news is trust and hope

the bad news is her, the good news is her

the bad news is you're in love, the good news is you're in love

the bad news is you're mad, the good news is you're mad

the bad news will fade away, the good news will stay

and that's both a bad and a good thing

Musings

We try so hard to feel unique and special yet we so often tend to fall in line

random junk again

sometimes i wish, i could tell myself what i would tell others

random junk

the bad news is people leave you, the good news is you don't need to hold on to that many

i guess the reason maths is beautiful is because it's a never ending search for symmetry. that's what it is, it shows up as symmetry, it is symmetry and our dim minds are mildly enlightened by it, only to be thwarted in the end by a search for perfect symmetry which is not possible, which is what beauty is - an ongoing search for impossible perfection

Mother

Mother, take me to the place where the skies kiss the seas. Mother take me to the place where I can drown peacefully in the oceans. Mother take me to the place where no one mocks me for being who I am, no one, me, innocent, peaceful harmless, coward brave I don't know. Mother give me peace, mother give me salvation just at least give me arms and a chest to die into when I've lost into. This cruel world will not leave me, these people will not leave me, they will eat me alive, they'll kill me, worse drown me, maybe ridicule me but worse bend me. I don't want to bend, I wanna win but not as much as I care to be, as much as I care to kiss the sky goodbye at least once as much as I care to brush the leaves at least once as much as I wish to die at least once, with dignity, maybe not as a god, but at least man. Mother, mother, ... mother!

Blue flowers which shine like stars under the night sky

I could say more but what do I say, ur skin on ur bedspread under the night sky is calling out to ur surroundings like a tiny whisper to the air which provides the fragrance. I could hurl out but what's the point the little blue stars under the tree are already gathering around you. I could smell in futility but u would never be able to reach the eyes of the urchin that can see the dust flail and glow about u. The illiterate could never understand beauty anyway how would he see the perfume in the weather about u. How stricken he would be by the pain in every drop of the moment about u that could only entwine and die out in spaces around u. How would he see the presence around u, how would he feel the presence around u, how would he be the presence around u. The long traces of black shall meander through the night like meadows floating in the sky and covered as though by the mist and the sky they shall sparkle in the effervescence of the unilateral imagery constrained by the pangs of charred hunger and insatiable greed of beauty. I shall continue to captivated by the essence of freedom as the glory of beauty will continue to chain me. Blessed I am as I am tortured and chained by the lack and trauma of the universe joking on me. The ruby red lips laugh and mock me as I daringly and fearfully sneak a look at them. Gutted through the teeth of the mocking bird, gutted through the teeth of my enemy, the victor slimy pangs of poison melting my inner mind, every inch of my soul, but why should I look in disbelief as beauty makes a mockery of me

things or/and people

the things we love, the people we love

the people we love, the things we love

the things the people we love love

the people who love the things we love

the people who love the people we love

the people who hate the people we hate

the things the things we love make us love

the things the things we love make us hate

the people we love who love the things we hate

the people we love who hate the things we love

the people we love who love the people we hate

the people we love who hate the people we love

the people whom we love but don't love us

the people who love us but whom we don't love

the people who cry and the people who laugh

the people of pain the people who are sane

the people we hate for how we love them

the people we love for how we hate them

the people we love for how we love them

the people we love

the things, the little small things

the things we love, people force us to hate

the things that help us love the people we love

the things that help us give some love to ourselves

the people who love us, help us love ourselves, and teach us to love

what crime hath i done to have to include hate in this love

why the design so

why should i complain, why shouldn't i complain

who am i to complain, who am i to not complain

the things we love, the the people we love

the people we love, the things we love