Memories of a Random Guy
You love me unconditionally, but you can only compare me. You love me pure, but you can’t be happy. You love me, but that’s all, you don’t know me. You honestly love me, but you don’t know the trash of my soul. You love me (at least that), but you are too selfish to show it. You love me completely, but all you have in your head is “my hands are tied, my body bruised, you’ve got me with nothing to win and nothing left to lose”…
Today more than ever it pains me. Every word unspoken, every touch ungiven, every kiss not shared, every word not necessary…And tomorrow, more than ever, others will pain me, just the same…
I want a white room with a mattress on the floor. And a life made out of simplicity when we rediscover your toes getting out of the sheet in the morning or my fingers on the edge of the window. I think it’s funny how much negative we’ve been holding inside, it feels it’s about time to empty this all in the big bin outside. In the ecological bin. All this trash shouldn’t be deep inside.
Over, under and around us is air. And loads of life inside of us.Armies of cells and molecules, working and sweating and running around to make us live. We are 90 percent water. Streams running down the mountain side of our being, transporting essential salts and chemical reactions and oxygen.We are science, we are mystery.The gift of life spills and fills every crevasse. You would hate living inside your body. A 9 to 5 in your lungs or your liver. You’re over worked and under paid with a shitty boss and knee deep in toxic waste of cheese puffs and beer for 8 hours… Imagine this… Now stop fucking complaining about life.
300 words, memyselfandela, 2013