Time To Rise

This is the time of the stories of old. This is the time for the bravery of the little people - the humble, and the simple; the ones who pursue joy amid a world that's slipping away. This is a time of love stories, when a brave girl wishes to be rescued by a sensitive boy.

 

In this time of distractions, when you suffer within your heart but don't have the words to express your suffering, if we can keep our relationships to TV personalities to a minimum, this is that time of courageous acts, of stories that throb with emotion, even if these stories never get told. 

This is the time when courage is not rewarded, but ridiculed. This is that cynical time when innocence is seen with suspicion, and a daylight robber is celebrated as honest. This is a time when shamelessness is confused with courage. This is why we have people who, in saner times would be recognised as scum, in prime leadership positions. 

 This, when people lose sight of what's real and what's just a fantasy, when people lose sight of themselves in pursuit of that fantasy because reality has a difficult shape, is the time of heroes. This is when we understand how common and normal a hero really is, and how tough it is to be common and normal and heroic. 

This, when songs are losing their meaning, is the time to invoke the Arirang, the Bella Ciao, the Vandemataram. This is the time, when the world gets dark, to light the light of hope in our own hearts. This is the time for grace and beauty within ourselves to step up. This is the time to be moved by birdsong, and wish for a garden, not a bank. 

 This is the time to look up to the sky and ask for the courage to live through and the strength to fight through. This is the time to understand and abolish the evil within ourselves that makes us unable to speak and unfit to be heard. This is the time to look straight at what we've become, and fix the mistakes that shadow made. 

 This is the time to rise.

Broke

You can't save that much anyway...

you're a wish on a dandelion

you're wild and free

and don't belong to me

you're a wish on a dandelion

you can't save me

you never could

it's nice you thought you should

but did you forget you're human too?

you're a wish on a dandelion

you're not the answer to a prayer

you're not a desperate hope

you're not a last resort

you're nothing, you're fluff

you always were

it's fun, of course, but the reality of it

was never really real

you thought you could save me

you thought I'd save you too

you can't help me

if you can't help you

and i can't help you

i was never meant to

i was your wish too, wasn't i?

you poor delusional soul

i was to you a wish and prayer

and a dream come true

but what am i?

I'm not real for you either

all of this is built in the clouds

you know that's true

and you'll hold on to it

in the hope that somehow maybe

this will all become real

just like you want

just like you want

that this will somehow become real

the dream you dreamt will come true

something you can touch

I'm not real for you

and you're not real for me

can you let go?

i don't care anymore

I'll try to be rid of you

Tough Love

It's tough to feel ok when you're only used to getting hurt

It's tough to feel like you should be loved

When you haven't felt it before

It's little things that pile up

And break your soul bit by bit

It's tough when you feel like you're

Putting it back together with spit

It's tough to get up and fight for someone

When you look back and see no one backing you up

But back up

Everybody deserves love

Whether they know it or not

Put your broken heart back together

With the love you give to other people

The blank space in your heart

Fill it with all the love you should have got

Love everyone to make up for not being loved

Make sure nobody feels the way you did

It's called overcompensation?

Well, overcompensate

Whoever said you should only give back what you've been given

Was wrong

You should give back what you never got

Not so that you'll somehow get it in return,

But to make sure you are worth the love you don't get. 

Something, pain and grandoise epiphany

They would have us believe that there is a shining thing called "destiny" - a thing that we're meant to do - were you born to dance, or maybe cook, or is it your destiny to be a baby-sitter? But people don't fit in these grandiose boxes. 

That's a lie, built to distract us. 

Nobody's born to be a gymnast, or a footballer or a plumber - you might have some talents, but you choose if that's going to be the rest of your life. Because if this whole "destiny" thing is true, then you would have to believe that daily wage laborers, that, I don't know, unscrupulous businessmen, loan sharks, abusive people, or even people that hurt or kill others are destined for that life. 

Then, when you see the cruelty of the world concentrate and focus on its kids, you would have to believe that they are destined for that. 

Destiny is a lie. 

The only truth is beauty, and family and love, and the need to understand God. 

Maya

How do we collectively turn off our conscience?

How do we selectively mourn 

How can we still believe we're compassionate

If our sympathy is bought and sold?

And our silence is precious because

Under the guise of status quo

Looking us in the eye

The murderer murders

What will we be expected to do next?

Clean up the remains?

And what if that same fate should befall us?

Would we then expect sympathy

From people who are hopefully better than us

Or do we reject it then

A price to pay

An end to make 

A life to leave 

Unlived. 

Miracle

You're loved 

That's an absolute

You're loved

In any circumstance

In any condition

You're loved

This love doesn't go away

It'll stay

It'll wait

For you to see it 

For you to heal

Do you have to become worthy of it? No. 

You're already worthy

Everything you do

Every time you get up again

Every time you decide you won't give up

You don't need proof of this love

You just have to know it's always there

Helping you when you think you can't go any further

Picking you up when you fall absolutely

It won't do everything, of course

This love believes in you

The miracle is you

You'll get up, 

Again, and again, and again

You'll do the crawl forward

You'll do the walk forward

You'll do the run 

The miracle is you. 

You'll find your strength within you 

And you'll realise how worthy you always were of this love 

You're held, you simply have to allow yourself to feel it. 

You are the miracle, you simply have to allow yourself to be it. 

Blink

How can you ever have been real,

If you’re not anymore?

I’m looking at your face now. 

How could it ever have existed 

If it doesn’t anymore?

Are your memories just something 

My mind made up,

Or were you ever someone I could talk to 

But can’t anymore?

How strange to think you were once 

Flesh and blood,

How - how can that dissipate?

How can a soul - how can someone you could 

Touch and hug and hold and smile with 

And smell and feel and hear and know - die?

How can the jokes 

And the advice 

And the eye-rolling 

(for bad advice) 

vanish?

Leaving nothing but sepia feelings…

How can you have lived and breathed 

If all I know of you comes from treacherous memory

And what when I’m gone too, 

Taking my memories with me?

Here lies a man who once was… real?