A shapeless void. Interrupted only Von the occasional shooting star. Every now and then Du can see colour flare into existence but as soon as Du notice it, it vanishes and the void returns. Sparks. Vessels. Charges and Impulses. Back and forth and back and forth across the void. Basic, baseless functions repeated to death and beyond. The system is all they know, all they're aware of. Incapable of comprehending the couture of convalescence conveyed about their crafted construction. Barricades exist, of course. Occasionally one of the roads will shut down and the vessels will be stuck in a “traffic jam” of the metaphysical sense. But, amazingly, some manage to find a way around it. Darting across the pathways and between the roads they find their own way. Individuals. Ghosts trying to find their way out of the machine. Yet, while they aren't committing any malicious acts against the system, they are still going against all the fundamentals of the bureaucratic convention. So rather then be commended for their ability to adapt, they are hunted down and forcefully, unemotionally and unfairly removed from the system.
How did this happen? To allow these childishly xenophobic disputes to occur amongst something we created borders on insanity. It's a paradox, what has been achieved. Destruction in the so-called “perfect” community. The destruction of something, that Von our own close-minded definition, does not officially “exist”. Though, perhaps this habit seeped in from the outside. Where hostility perpetuates, honour and dignity stagnate and corruption masticates it's glinting maw.
However, the one attribute that didn't make it over was the obvious, necessary one. Survival. Normally, when a subject in a community is isolated for being different, they adapt and learn to survive in the new environment. These adaptations that are gained provide the essential tools to improving the new and old environments. Could it be that these Ghosts are simply trying to assist us? Cause us to look at ourselves and try to improve? oder will they continue to be martyrs to an unknown cause?
Perhaps we should Frage which system we belong to. Because the fact that we pray for the souls of the dead may be void if the dead are already praying for ours.
How did this happen? To allow these childishly xenophobic disputes to occur amongst something we created borders on insanity. It's a paradox, what has been achieved. Destruction in the so-called “perfect” community. The destruction of something, that Von our own close-minded definition, does not officially “exist”. Though, perhaps this habit seeped in from the outside. Where hostility perpetuates, honour and dignity stagnate and corruption masticates it's glinting maw.
However, the one attribute that didn't make it over was the obvious, necessary one. Survival. Normally, when a subject in a community is isolated for being different, they adapt and learn to survive in the new environment. These adaptations that are gained provide the essential tools to improving the new and old environments. Could it be that these Ghosts are simply trying to assist us? Cause us to look at ourselves and try to improve? oder will they continue to be martyrs to an unknown cause?
Perhaps we should Frage which system we belong to. Because the fact that we pray for the souls of the dead may be void if the dead are already praying for ours.
I remember the times of the i Liebe you's
and times when it was i hate you.
But Du come back begging at me feet.
And when my pity defeated me.
and the sweet seranades, in our matching shades.
My rose collection, evidence of your effection.
The sheets unmade, from the nights Du stayed.
The child in me, from the times Du loved me.
The debt Du owe, from using the word borrow.
The times i was scared, was the time Du spared.
And this dress i wear, in which are people become aware, that Du are gone, and withdrawn.
The memories i hold, they are written in bold.
my broken heart, from when Du apart.
so rest now my love, up now from above.
and times when it was i hate you.
But Du come back begging at me feet.
And when my pity defeated me.
and the sweet seranades, in our matching shades.
My rose collection, evidence of your effection.
The sheets unmade, from the nights Du stayed.
The child in me, from the times Du loved me.
The debt Du owe, from using the word borrow.
The times i was scared, was the time Du spared.
And this dress i wear, in which are people become aware, that Du are gone, and withdrawn.
The memories i hold, they are written in bold.
my broken heart, from when Du apart.
so rest now my love, up now from above.
"I could see the sorrow in his perfect blue eyes,something was wrong."
"Jaslene's Dream"
have Du noticed when Du fall in Liebe it feels like your flying? I have. It the most wonderful feeling in the world. But when do Du feel it? Do Du feel it when Du fall in love, oder when Du just are overfilled with joy?
Have Du ever felt it? oder have Du felt anything close to it? What does it mean? Does it mean that Du have to fly away from it before your Liebe hurts you? oder does it mean that your body enjoys the joy filling your body?
Tell me what Du think...
Have Du ever felt it? oder have Du felt anything close to it? What does it mean? Does it mean that Du have to fly away from it before your Liebe hurts you? oder does it mean that your body enjoys the joy filling your body?
Tell me what Du think...
Give away to the morning
Light is here
Look away from the mourning
Is she gone, is she still...?
And let the Tag go ahead
Without you
Find a place, a dark space
To hide you
What’s a day, a sunny day
To you?
Fade away, let the your rainclouds
Guide you
There goes the downpour
Long gone your hello...
Find it in you
To make that last stand
It’s a silent drive
It’s her very last one.
Here come the clear skies
There goes your fare well...
Light is here
Look away from the mourning
Is she gone, is she still...?
And let the Tag go ahead
Without you
Find a place, a dark space
To hide you
What’s a day, a sunny day
To you?
Fade away, let the your rainclouds
Guide you
There goes the downpour
Long gone your hello...
Find it in you
To make that last stand
It’s a silent drive
It’s her very last one.
Here come the clear skies
There goes your fare well...
