passenger days

It's a familiar feeling - out of place but recognized - like the spring time rain arriving somewhat ahead of time. Sometimes I can't tell the difference between the sea and the sky line like the times i can't tell the differences in the subtleties of you and I.

Sometimes I daydream about hopping on a passing train. I don't know where I'm going anyways. I'm just along for the ride these days.

If the truth be told, I think that I already know how this will end with me crawling defeatedly all the way back home.

I fear that I may be a little to naive.

Sometimes I daydream about hopping on a passing train. I don't know where I'm going anyways but I'm not content with these passenger days.

I feel like you've got me in some sort of a holding pattern and I don't know how or when this ends, but the how doesn't really matter. I'm tired of asking the same questions and waiting on the same old answers and I don't know how or when this ends. The how doesn't even matter.

Another familiar feeling - out of place but recognized - like the spring rain arriving ahead of time.

Sometimes i'm the devil, selling where i'm able. Sometimes I'm the Lord, overturning tables. It's hard to tell some of these days whether to call myself a sinner or a saint. At this point i'd probably fight back either way, but whether out of anger or guilt it's hard to say. Sometimes I am Thomas - just another doubter. Sometimes I am Peter, with faith to walk on water. I find myself to caught up in the words of other men, no matter how absurd. I wish that I was a bit more like Job - unaffected by others lack of hope - so I will try to find my own way home...

Of like mind.

If you don't mind, let's just remember better times.

Do you think we will ever be actually doing something we love with someone who we love or who isn't just kind of of like mind?

Yeah this is fine ... But it's just wasting time.

Do you think that we will ever be somewhere where we actually fit in instead of just faking it? Because I have been faking for quite some time.

So if you don't mind, I'll stop wasting our time. In the struggle between loneliness and settling i find my mind is constantly changing.

So if you don't mind... let's just remember the better times.

A matter of fear

It’s the same old story - no matter how many times you read it nothing will ever change. It’s a circular path identified in beaten grass that I’ve been wandering down for days. Don’t tell me it will ever change.

It’s a simple defense applied to future tense. I just can’t take all of this being let down. Make a full retreat from the crippling defeat I’ve come to expect by now. Anymore, everything just lets me down.

But its just a matter of fear, not a matter of fact and we’re all going to die but I don’t want to die from that.

Remind me of the words

Can you tell me what it's like living in the black and white?

Remind me of the words. The chorus then the verse. The meaning and the worth.

The meaning of this life? Some reference to a light? God and wrong and right simplified?

Can you tell me what it's like living in the black and white?

Always the Dreamer

There’s slack in the line held back just in case – the reserved of ourselves we let go to waste. Yeah, we all have excuses. We all have our vice. We all have disguises we forget we’re behind. So we’re present in body while mostly absent in mind - held back by our language so much of the time. But if I write something clever, will you blindly believe that I am whatever you can imagine me to be?
I may lie this time… so I don’t mind if you lied.

Summer and winter… springtime and fall. We’re passed by by weather while time tends to crawl. It’s all about the angle from which we perceive and you seemed like a dreamer, just never like the dream…

So let's not lie to ourselves this time. We're losing time on lies when you're toujours le rêveur, mais jamais le rêve - Always the dreamer, but never the dream.