Wormy Apple.
Author: hotsurf
Like to travel, read, play cello etc.
Ways away.
Just when you are getting comfortable, you find out there's ways, ways & ways to go. Maybe it's the ego that's insatiable, always, always, always looking for something new. Maybe it's the curse of never having a home, or maybe I'm still a kid in the candy store. But please, please, please show me what is this all for.
To the Actor.
What makes you want to be another person? Assume the precise loco motions? Generate the sparks by selling the cells? In the end not to have a life at all? The actor thinks it's all a joke. The laughters & tears can last in films. But we are not the same, I'm in a different place. Maybe another time, I will remember the name. To act in order to be, makes yourself nice & cheap. All the puppets have strings, one day they will end up a messy heap. But what other ways to live?
To My Bitch Boss.
You trying to kill me? Bossing me like I'm your secretary? Your bottom bitch? Coming down a ton of bricks? No warning nor a friendly reprieve? It's all up to me, huh? Well, I'm telling you to wait. The good times are looking vague. You know what I'm saying? Yeh, you better walk away. You think you are grade A? Well, I have seen you shiver at the first sigh of hard labor. "Tough" ain't in your vocabulary, so step out of my way. And shield your eyes, your fairy land's built on the slaughter lane. Hey, don't hate the player, you ain't even in the game. High morals & low dresses, you dizzy yet? Of course not. Who you're looking at but your brand new bitch boss?
I want to die..
I want to die wondering what tomorrow brings, observing the crystalized moments form a complete palette, and finally, the perfect freedom to create a life that's more real than it's ever been.
Work.
Meisner.
Under the surface, it's all tears. I have to protect it, like a reserve. Without it, I will be empty, and anyone can see what's underneath: anger, despair & malice, probably. I don't really know, didn't really care. But it won't be pretty. Nothing really is.
To Those Who Should be Happy.
Oh, can't you see the sun when a hard decision's made and a gut-wrenching deed is done? Would you celebrate it or let the doubts eat you away? There's never a single line, but a feeling you're on the right track & something's different this time. More to lose & not caring what is to gain. One train leaves without you & it's still a happy day.
The Missing.
I know it will end in black, but now it's alright. Tired of looking back, every two steps, for new angles of attack. "Not good enough," a corner to hide. Never face myself, don't know what's left. A miracle, being alive. What's missing is the crime.
Don’t Run Away.
It's hard, no? When you had enough & ready to call it quits. Where you're down on your knees to pray, throwing pride away. Don't you know it's good for you, get lost in a brand new space. Don't run away, now, ageless voices are cheering you on. Make yourself the guide & them your witness, through winter comes spring. When you're at your lowest, know that you are never alone, feel the warmth. It's your chance at living, like those that came before, make them proud. Don't run away, now, it's your gravest self saying, "Don't run away."
hotsurf_ 