The tick feat

It never seemed so hard. I've done it quite a few times and I always forget how hard it was. You don't care if you said good bye or not, you just miss everyone wholesomely. Whores, bores, killers, lovers, rock stars, morons, drunkards, nerds, gays, strays, nuns, bananas, ghouls and angels; it's wholesome.

I've listened and watched ready to carry them around in a mental diary. The diary doesn't filter nor does it give ratings. Except maybe the ones. I love the ones. They are not in a mental diary but safe in the heart.

The hardest is the thought of leaving home. The notion of always being foreign is almost intimidating really. Those sights and sounds that remind you, where you come from will be missed dearly. The taste of the wind will be anonymous and the scorch of the sand will be anonymous. They are all anonymous but adaptable, so survival will take care.

Leaving is always a reminder, of how time and we are one entity. It ticks and we tick too. We tick in and out to the North and South, we tick left and right with the East and the West. You tick or you're kicked, right out to the universal blues of a mess. A mess that will degenerate anything and everything you achieved in the past; your feat. It's true, you won't have to leave until you're ready to go.

What does your tick say? Will we tick together one day? I want to know how you tick. So hell yeah, I'll watch and listen, and I don't think I'll stop.

Never sink China Doll

It's a blur but we still remember it all.

Now when you are sitting in the middle of the sea dressed and labeled as what everyone wanted to see you as, makes you feel like a super laughing stock. It's a memorabilia; for you and the many who wanted to ever seek you messing it up.

You start with letting go of that mask. You take it off for the very one you made sure you never will. The problem solves then and there. You get the support, you get the reassurance, you get the protection and most of you feel the game begin.

You can't stop the lips, you can't stop the winds but you can swim. Sometimes, running away is the beginning. Just make sure you run right to the right side with the right one.

The Waiting Fucktor

Met your psychotic eyes, crashed at your perfect grin, saw the setting sun, got salted at the beach, had a few beers and so I had to say this.

To wait. It kills.

I wish I could kiss.

Take you away,

bring you back,

bid you farewell

but remind you,

I'll always be there.

Maybe I won't.

Maybe you won't care.

But you the sun that sets,

leave a tear in my eye.

As you reach for her the sea

and not me the sky.

So,

To wait it kills. I wish I could kiss.

Now go have another local beer.