I’m protecting my mind and all that it holds. I’m protecting my mind as the gate to my heart. But Oh if only I could admit, how I long to be found out.
Yes I long to be exposed. Waiting for the day when the chains to the gate will be torn off – and you would enter – and I might escape.
And on that day, yes I dream of that day often. On that day I’ll say Hooray and the weight will be let off and my wait will be turned off.
And I will finally take a deep breath and taste the oxygen for once. And feel the blood run down as the nicotine runs out and I start to make every day count.
It’s weird how much I’m betting on that day, yet I still lay a brick to cement the gates, this man protects all that he hates.
The problem of freedom is just that. Is it a free domain or will I be free to domination? Will I simply be freely domesticated or will this be my chance to enjoy free dominion?
When I’m at rock bottom and still protecting a broken heart. I heard from this point the only way to go is up… But I’m afraid we might not have enough elasticity to bounce back in this rocked up heart. Or if we still have even just a little, we might just have waited until we got too low – the ball only bounces as high as it was dropped. I feel robbed.
Robbed by the fear of fear. The chains of the ego who is the fakest of friends. Pretending we’re in it together but he does it all for his own benefit, then hides behind my shadow and I’m left with the blame.
If it were truly up to me, I would have never made such a bold claim…
To anything, because it’s all the same. None of it bears my name, even my own imagination I could not tame, and seeking fame was not really my aim – but it’s just one of the rules to the game that I actually find quite lame – because I’d only go around in circles to find the same results, still bearing this name, hating fame for taking such an accurate aim at my privacy, leaving people to think that my life is a game until they outgrow it and find it to be lame… And I’m left back where I started in the best case scenario, because I could be worse off – like being without something to write about and not having something to be right about, not even pain.