High hopes.

I know it’s crazy to believe in silly things
It’s not that easy

It’s time to let it all go, go out and start again
But it’s not that easy

And the world keeps spinning, Yeah this world keeps spinning
How this world keeps spinning around.

 

 

 

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When the sun goes down

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Sometimes,
or maybe just once,
all the colors of the world dissapear,
and you sink in to the deep
where there is no light

You sit on the bottom of the cave
and can’t fall deeper,
but can’t climb – you’re completely stuck

I don’t know what is worse,
but all I know is
that even if you’re on the bottom of the cave

and when the sun goes down
it does come up again
even if you can not bear the light.

Not everything is possible

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Outside the window,
I see fog, the traffic, the sky
trees saying goodbye to their leaves
they turned from green to yellow to leafless
but there is no rain

A deep sigh, it’s my own, and I don’t even hear
Staring to the outside world,
I’m a statue on my own couch
Frozen, where silence remains

After all
Sometimes the world is just living its life
no matter if you want to be part of it
it plays its game, dead or alive.

The fire

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Why do they even call it the fire, when it’s not something that is literally burning?
Is it about the light? The warmth? The flame?

For a little while, life was so simple. All I had to take care of, was to get through the day, to find water, and food, and a shelter. To make it to the next place, or just make it through the day, but it’s a different making through the day as it is here. It’s kind of hard to explain, I don’t know how I can explain it with words, because they never have the load or the real meaning they have when it’s reality.

What is the fire inside of you?

What is the fire inside of me?

Can you answer this question for yourself? Can I answer this question for me?

The weird thing is that sometimes you think you know, but you are never sure. Or maybe you just assume. Or it changes, from time to time. I don’t know, I guess sometimes it’s just rather confusing.

Fire. What’s your fire? What’s my fire.

Is it the fire that keeps you moving?
Is it the fire that keeps you warm?
Or is it the fire that melts your heart?

It’s there, just over there.

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The person next to you points somewhere in front of you. It’s all you have to see.
It’s all you have to do. For the others, it’s clear where it is. It’s clear what to do.
And yet, you’re walking, not even standing still, but walking, but it’s not clear at all.

There, just there. Just this. Just that.
And all you do is stare. It’s there, probably, perhaps, but you can’t see it. You just stare into eternity (as far as that’s eternal) but it doesn’t change anything.

No one can understand why you can’t see it.
No one will understand why you can’t feel it.

It’s like the earth, in the galaxy – it’s staring, but it doesn’t see. For what? Where to?