Please don't break my heart
Please don't break my heart
Please don't break my heart
When you talk about family
When we talk about you and me
When we talk about loving endlessly
I hope you'll understand
Don't ever break my heart
Don't ever break my heart
Don't ever break my heart
It'll never be the same
Please don't break my heart
You could tear us apart
But you'll always be a part of me
I won't break your heart
I won't break your heart
I won't break your heart
I don't know if I could stand
Without you by my side
You tell me it's alright
I'll never have to be afraid
Your always in my heart
Your always in my heart
So long as we never stay apart.
Tuesday, August 23, 2016
Together
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
I have now realized that the composition of myself isn't have or in quarters. The first three quarters being with me. The methods that I write the programs that I design the way that I sculpt my figure by person. It is all a results of watching. Watching the natural flow or the spirit Within Me. That spirit being. I watch this thing I do what it says I have thoroughly convinced it's convinced myself that it is me and it is what breathes me. What's like being possessed by something it moves about its own will without my interjection. As I feed it and as it grows my happiness my awareness my value of life and many other facets at which I can say I enjoy my life more seem to grow. So my first instinct is to allow it to grow completely unhindered. Removing many layers of anxiety secrets trauma to increase the sense of confidence as confidence is The Shield at which you hold off the disruptions in your own forces resonance and growth. Once The Shield is built the last thing to be made is the clever trick of making money off of the natural Instincts of the spirit. Much like a doctor would watch a patient and document at what time does the day certain hormonal levels blood pressure another of various measurements of the client's body and health would be made and at what times the frequency until 1. Space and much like any other profession or research watching an animal. Getting the something that comes naturally and watch what you do documented very finely and see how you can Progressive.
So I dangle the carrot before my eye so that I may squeeze every last tear from my heart that I may muster. Hundreds of glistening enchanted jewels shrouded in powerful memories near and dear to the heart. And as her blessing goes away he light fades from the stone, the hum fades into silence. What wonder and magic was once held within has faded. It's seen two ways, the past and the present. The mind struggles to choose which to hold on for it does not know which is real. For in the eyes of the beholder the gem still shines and shines brightly but te beholders eyes are filled with tears because his love does not seen this shine, these same gems and artifacts appear dull and distasteful. Surrounded by memories rather not remembered rather than surrounded in memories that the beholder cannot wait to experience again. This conflict in views sparks the deep emotional reaction, to each his own anger or sadness. Confusion always sets in somewhere before or between this entangled mess of emotions and thoughts. The beholder will seak to clear his confusion and if he lacks the inner circles of friends and family who have given him good word before then he will turn to his lost love for the answers of their seperation. But this individual is already setting sail and moving further away from these memories at an increasing rate, asking this person to stay for a few moments and explain is often a fruitless endevour unless you are willing to chase down the train and leave behind the sour taste and faulty chracter of the obsessive and groundless man.
How many days do you find yourself staring at the wall?
How many times have you wished you could ran away from it all?
It doesn't have to be like this.
You know it's true.
I'll help you find yourself.
I've been here since you were seventeen.
Do you remember those summer nights?
Looking up at the stars, long before you ever felt alone.
Back when we were together.
Wrapped up on a bench would you could be someplace better.
You wanted to be here, you wanted to be found.
But why does it make you feel so small?
I love that I know you, is it not a pleasure to be seen?
If you have to ask you know the reasons why.
Maybe a long time ago but not anymore.
Those eyes that watch me used to be a part of me.
But now they hang and fill me with doubt, images of a man I'm not about.
Surely he will be misunderstood
The vision of himself has changed but his world has not.
Deep within him he feels the ultimate struggle to move the world around him.
Rather than allow the world to move him.
He searches for the will.
He fears his own strength.
Afraid to use the power he holds.
Knowing well that he could pull down everything that stands.
He sees the bonds that hold together that which brings pain, he wants to break them all.
But he has seen how his actions can doom the ones he loves, even though he wanted to help.
Why do you stay?
He finds out why the closer he becomes.
Why is this you?
He finds out why as he comes closer.
Some people I cannot come closer as I ask why, so I will never see that particular answer, but I will find that answer sometime later and the situation may be the same.
I want nothing but what comes natrually to me.
Everything else is a challenge to prove to myself things, normally these things mean nothing.
I push myself to do things to live up to what others think of me, or think ill of me.
Time, Time Time, Time.
He I sit, write and wait.
Watching the time on the clock slowly slip by.
Every moment another moment spent dead.
Here in my hole, this room, this house.
Sitting and wallowing in the same dead old memories.
I live, rot, and die within this confinment.
This is not a prison because I was captured.
This is a prison because I cannot leave without great risks.
I would have no place to lay my head without the impending day that I was told I have overstayed my welcome.
I would starve for finding work would take too long, but I have right now and I still make no motion to aquire hourly work again.
I freeze in trying to call and aquire more work from my union, for they are a treat to be blessed but not a resource to mine. No attempts have ever worked, why am I suppressed here after years of work?
I feel shame in leaving my job at the gym, my opportunity to make relationships and clients.
All in my head this feels ok, these obstacles are small and my opportunities are many.
But yet I find myself in pure misery engaging in many of these things.
The hourly work brings me to the peak of my stress still my emotions burn out and I go dead and silent with a fire burning inside me to explode.
To those who saw quench that flame and work, I say go fuck yourself. No soul should have to bottle in their fustration and hatred of other people for the sake of survival. Those days are long past where the tribe must always be cared for. This is truley the age of the individual.
In the gym I worked for I felt this awesome pressure of freeze.
I would make some attempts to speak with members but my directions would fail, I could not steer properly and result.
I would not follow up my efforts, I wanted my single interaction to be my last with them.
My own mood, feelings and overall state were far too inconsitant with the chracter I needed to provide to ensure a reliable experiance for that client.
At home I can't find the willpower to practice and track the habits that would ensure my emotional and overall state would be consistant enough.
I'm trying to find reason in why I don't see eliminating the deep slides in the graph of my state over an amount of time doesn't motivate me to do so.
I expressed this once to someone but with the spin that I might be addicted to apathy.
This feeling of saddness, longing and sarrow may be something I draw pleasure from.
I draw a strange pleasure from it as I am not pleased by it.
I feel lacking and in need of help to retain a better state when I am in the state of depression.
I would like to express willpower and change this direction so that more time would be spent working in a direction of growth and achieving things I want rather than spending time looking back and reorganizing and reinterviewing myself about different events in my life and possible events.
This direction of growth is a very blurry thing, which is not helped that it has to be a capitolly insentivised growth rather than a purely creative growth.
Basically described as the minds ability for fluid creativity forced to produce things outside of the definition of the fluid creative processes job.
Because not always are buisness growth tasks ones that can be build from the creative imaginination.
If the creative imagination is used for things that do not bring immediate pleasure to the creator then the process is being used incorrectly and the highest quality results (great masterworks to be proud of) will never be created, they will be miniscule, deformed, misshaped and ect.
I have been trying far to hard to mold two catagories of creative abilities into one, as the fluid process is the only one I have familiarity with. Being a fictional writer and a abstract tribal artist for some time I grew to understand the fluid and infinate workings of things process. While it still drained some energy from the system, the energy provided by it's completion was more than enough to make up for the defecit in emotional state quality.
So thinking of growth as work, or plotting the plan for achievement when needing to create products which requires imagination seems to fall apart or kill the growth by placing it in a box.
I have not yet found a way around this, a way to seperate the catagories so they can work to their best ability when used properly. Despite the many brilliant uses for the mind, the mind can e used incorrectly.
How many times have you wished you could ran away from it all?
It doesn't have to be like this.
You know it's true.
I'll help you find yourself.
I've been here since you were seventeen.
Do you remember those summer nights?
Looking up at the stars, long before you ever felt alone.
Back when we were together.
Wrapped up on a bench would you could be someplace better.
You wanted to be here, you wanted to be found.
But why does it make you feel so small?
I love that I know you, is it not a pleasure to be seen?
If you have to ask you know the reasons why.
Maybe a long time ago but not anymore.
Those eyes that watch me used to be a part of me.
But now they hang and fill me with doubt, images of a man I'm not about.
Surely he will be misunderstood
The vision of himself has changed but his world has not.
Deep within him he feels the ultimate struggle to move the world around him.
Rather than allow the world to move him.
He searches for the will.
He fears his own strength.
Afraid to use the power he holds.
Knowing well that he could pull down everything that stands.
He sees the bonds that hold together that which brings pain, he wants to break them all.
But he has seen how his actions can doom the ones he loves, even though he wanted to help.
Why do you stay?
He finds out why the closer he becomes.
Why is this you?
He finds out why as he comes closer.
Some people I cannot come closer as I ask why, so I will never see that particular answer, but I will find that answer sometime later and the situation may be the same.
I want nothing but what comes natrually to me.
Everything else is a challenge to prove to myself things, normally these things mean nothing.
I push myself to do things to live up to what others think of me, or think ill of me.
Time, Time Time, Time.
He I sit, write and wait.
Watching the time on the clock slowly slip by.
Every moment another moment spent dead.
Here in my hole, this room, this house.
Sitting and wallowing in the same dead old memories.
I live, rot, and die within this confinment.
This is not a prison because I was captured.
This is a prison because I cannot leave without great risks.
I would have no place to lay my head without the impending day that I was told I have overstayed my welcome.
I would starve for finding work would take too long, but I have right now and I still make no motion to aquire hourly work again.
I freeze in trying to call and aquire more work from my union, for they are a treat to be blessed but not a resource to mine. No attempts have ever worked, why am I suppressed here after years of work?
I feel shame in leaving my job at the gym, my opportunity to make relationships and clients.
All in my head this feels ok, these obstacles are small and my opportunities are many.
But yet I find myself in pure misery engaging in many of these things.
The hourly work brings me to the peak of my stress still my emotions burn out and I go dead and silent with a fire burning inside me to explode.
To those who saw quench that flame and work, I say go fuck yourself. No soul should have to bottle in their fustration and hatred of other people for the sake of survival. Those days are long past where the tribe must always be cared for. This is truley the age of the individual.
In the gym I worked for I felt this awesome pressure of freeze.
I would make some attempts to speak with members but my directions would fail, I could not steer properly and result.
I would not follow up my efforts, I wanted my single interaction to be my last with them.
My own mood, feelings and overall state were far too inconsitant with the chracter I needed to provide to ensure a reliable experiance for that client.
At home I can't find the willpower to practice and track the habits that would ensure my emotional and overall state would be consistant enough.
I'm trying to find reason in why I don't see eliminating the deep slides in the graph of my state over an amount of time doesn't motivate me to do so.
I expressed this once to someone but with the spin that I might be addicted to apathy.
This feeling of saddness, longing and sarrow may be something I draw pleasure from.
I draw a strange pleasure from it as I am not pleased by it.
I feel lacking and in need of help to retain a better state when I am in the state of depression.
I would like to express willpower and change this direction so that more time would be spent working in a direction of growth and achieving things I want rather than spending time looking back and reorganizing and reinterviewing myself about different events in my life and possible events.
This direction of growth is a very blurry thing, which is not helped that it has to be a capitolly insentivised growth rather than a purely creative growth.
Basically described as the minds ability for fluid creativity forced to produce things outside of the definition of the fluid creative processes job.
Because not always are buisness growth tasks ones that can be build from the creative imaginination.
If the creative imagination is used for things that do not bring immediate pleasure to the creator then the process is being used incorrectly and the highest quality results (great masterworks to be proud of) will never be created, they will be miniscule, deformed, misshaped and ect.
I have been trying far to hard to mold two catagories of creative abilities into one, as the fluid process is the only one I have familiarity with. Being a fictional writer and a abstract tribal artist for some time I grew to understand the fluid and infinate workings of things process. While it still drained some energy from the system, the energy provided by it's completion was more than enough to make up for the defecit in emotional state quality.
So thinking of growth as work, or plotting the plan for achievement when needing to create products which requires imagination seems to fall apart or kill the growth by placing it in a box.
I have not yet found a way around this, a way to seperate the catagories so they can work to their best ability when used properly. Despite the many brilliant uses for the mind, the mind can e used incorrectly.
Just an idea for what my reflection of this world might be as I can't just be one solid thing. The nature is state over time long enough for a wavelength to be formed. The space too small between can not be anything, it is potential. I observer the motion of this great wheel and the passing of many faces over it surface. Only seen for a moment but still a part of this song. For too long I have forced myself to focus in, look closer and define myself as a single frame and hold my will to this image so that my waveform, my song would ring or vibrate to the same tune no matter the world I was in. I observe from far away, I cannot come so close to this form. It is too small and does not become carried by the greatness that hides behind everything. It is within everything. Our will places tension or strain over the smallest undefinable length of time where raw potential is held as the waveform is created and defined as it is tracked. Like trying to place your hands on a wire after being plucked to suppress its vibration is my attempt to hold myself to a single frame of time or image for myself.
Dull Stone
So I dangle the carrot before my eye so that I may squeeze every last tear from my heart that I may muster. Hundreds of glistening enchanted jewels shrouded in powerful memories near and dear to the heart. And as her blessing goes away the light fades from the stone, the hum fades into silence. What wonder and magic was once held within has faded. It's seen two ways, the past and the present. The mind struggles to choose which to hold on for it does not know which is real. For in the eyes of the beholder the gem still shines and shines brightly but the beholders eyes are filled with tears because his love does not see this shine, these same gems and artifacts appear dull and distasteful. Surrounded by memories rather not remembered rather than surrounded in memories that the beholder cannot wait to experience again. This conflict in views sparks the deep emotional reaction, to each his own anger or sadness. Confusion always sets in somewhere before or between this entangled mess of emotions and thoughts. The beholder will seak to clear his confusion and if he lacks the inner circles of friends and family who have given him good word before then he will turn to his lost love for the answers of their seperation. But this individual is already setting sail and moving further away from these memories at an increasing rate, asking this person to stay for a few moments and explain is often a fruitless endevour unless you are willing to chase down the train and leave behind the sour taste and faulty chracter of the obsessive and groundless man.
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