I am a little bit of loneliness
A little bit of disregard
Handful of complaints but I can't help the fact
That everybody can see these scars
I am what I want you to want, what I want you to feel
But it's like no matter what I do
I can't convince you
To just believe this is real
Linkin Park
Welcome to the Window. Has anyone ever felt like if they suddenly left, simply disappeared, that their presence wouldn't be missed? I know I do. It's not hard to slip into that mentality. Add a little bit of disregard, a touch of brokenness, a smattering of fragility, and it's more than enough to make anyone want to just get away. Sometimes though, in the midst of our deepest fear and despair, we have to think beyond our narrowed scope. We have to think about who we're leaving in our wake. There's that little colloquial phrase: "My two cents worth". Two cents is hardly anything. These days, you can't buy a single thing for two cents. Well, let's throw it into perspective. If you're part of something, and your two cents adds to other people's two cents to make a dollar, you all use that dollar for a common goal, a unified wish. However, when you take away your two cents, only ninety-eight cents is left, and that goal can't be achieved, and only your two cents can complete it. We may think, in our darkest moments, that we won't be missed, that our legacy will be forgotten or easily replaced, but it can't be. The piece of the puzzle, the two cents that you possess can't be replicated or substituted for anything less or more. To think of others in our own pain is near impossible, but it's something that we have to do, regardless of the excruciation.
Sometimes, facing the source of our pain isn't the ultimate challenge. Facing ourselves, the greatest fear of seeing what we really are, is the real challenge. To confront our inner turmoil is harder than any feat performable by mankind. The day we face ourselves down, that is the day that we can truly be free, truly feel bliss. Smile =]
Take it easy everyone.
Studio B
- Mark
- When you need to wake up in the morning, and set the right mood for the day, when you need to escape from the overwhelming everything of life. What do you turn to? How do you describe your core without speaking aloud, without having to talk to someone about it? This is how. Music. Lyrics. Poetry. Do you feel it? Do you? It's here, it's everywhere, locked within you, within the most tone deaf of us. It's begging to be released, become unleashed in a tearing chord, a crying melody, soulful harmony, dying lyric. You feel it yet? It's concealed here, within every word that I write. This is my release. I want you to see it, to feel it with me. This pure expression of every tangible and imaginable emotion known and unknown to man. To me. Welcome to The Window.