Hmph.

I should do a blog on neglect. Like, here for example?

Keala, sweet sweet Keala-

You always brought the light into my darkness… both of you.

 

TOTAL CHANGE OF TOPIC, MUSICALLY?

Altering a song and not giving regard to meaning, just sound…? I stop the world and sing to you:

“This means nothing to me- O Keala…!”

Syllables and a sense of sadness/loss. Check and check.

 

Stevie Nicks – if you are in the desert, can I come live with you? A small shack on the grounds, nothing more.

 

Carry on.

That unspoken thing that sets me apart- over in the dark corner?

Is that I am so very sad.  [Sad/Empty/Meaningless/Through]

Is that I think humanity has such potential yet continuously: they are cruel hating beasts.

That I was raised with stories about “The Good Samaritan” and with phrases like Judge Not/Love They Neighbor/Vengeance is MINE saith The Lord – yet?

I am (trapped) in a land packed with people that wave around books stamped Bible, and these millions of people waving these books are hateful, judging, cruel and behave in every way opposite their ‘Messiah.’

Certainly the first 18 years of my life formed me – and though I do not speak on it in specifics much – I do know that the older I get (hourly, daily?) the less I want to live here. What does that mean? This City, State, Country or Life itself? I know that I don’t want to commit suicide, that I won’t – but that does not mean I have any love left for whatever this is I am doing. Which includes waking up, falling asleep, and all that stuff in-between. It is GONE.

People are not supposed to admit these things. Well… who cares anymore.

I’ve never heard it described so devastatingly accurate:

Je ne fais jamais …eh, Qu’est-ce que je peux faire?

So… since I don’t?

Count on a whole lot of ‘never done that before- have done that before’ – all kinds of stuff- but this time?

Absolutely with different results. Status Quo is no longer acceptable. Not by any stretch of anyone’s imagination.