lazywritingrockstudent - Tumblr blog

[lazywritingrockstudent]

The mirror

You look at me with hope to loose,

As if it was me to hold your answers.

You look at yourself with love to loose,

As if it was me to define your worth.

You ask me daily 'What is it,

That will change the way my reflection looks?'

As though I had the force to give

The answers that I know you hold.

Time and time again I hurt

Whoever dares to look at me.

For what the only thing I can

Is show you what you want to see.

You hate me for the truth you think

I give you with delight.

Though what I see and what I show

Is nothing short of bright.

It is not the skin and not the hair

That makes you who you are.

It is the way you change the world

With all the love you share.

I'd love to show you just how great

And beautiful you are within

However that it is my curse

To show nothing deeper than your skin.

So hate me all the ways you want

And demonize the way I am.

Just please, be kinder to yourself,

For this is something that I can't.

[lazywritingrockstudent]

Have I been wrong?

I have felt like I need to go on and never stop. Not for a second lingering in my path, ever in motion and rotating and bending and working towards a goal.

There is no such thing as cowardice even though I knew that what I did was exactly that. I chose to not choose at all. I decided to not decide when all I really ever wanted was to not have to choose on my path. I wanted to know what it was like to travel all the way and not stop and share and divide and regain my composure time and time again. Hell, if what I did was not cowardice then courage doesn’t even exist. Why can no one tell me, if what I did was right, or if I should’ve just decided that the other way around was better or even worse or if I could’ve just walked straight through the damned wall and painted it like the chaos that I felt in my heart?! Is it really too much to ask to be able to live through it all? I know I missed what I wanted to keep, and I missed what you learned to be, and I missed every possibility to be me! I decided wrong to decide wrong to choose the other above the first and when I’m finished, I still didn’t do it right. Will there ever be a right? Because right now it doesn’t seem like it will or is it just that it’s my idealistic will to keep on because I’m strong headed enough to want to return and undo it just as I want to keep it? Is this me running in endless circles, around and around and always around, and never able to clear my path? Never able to see ahead and be free of having to be something that won’t ever feel right in my bones? Will it eternally be eternal yeses and noes and noes and yeses, and will I ever understand why I even had the choice when all I was left with in the end was regretting to never take the other thing? I’ve once been willing to take the world raw, and it never occurred to me that I would be anything but miserable after the first separating path. And have I been wrong? Have I not been the one to wonder and carry on and wander through the darkest depths of deepest sea and even though I was afraid of being me it was right, and it was where I wanted to be. Except that I don’t know where that is. Where I had to turn and where I had to follow, and if there was a choice I had to make.

I’m glad enough to not have to be the leave on the tree when the season changes and I would lose my green. I could never be able to decide if I wanted to be red or orange or yellow or all the colours together or the last green one when the storm would catch them and let them fall to the ground where they would rot because they where not needles but leaves after all.

It would be easier to ask me who I am than to tell you what I chose since who I am is what I already know. I would tell you that I want to fly, fly, fly high above the sky always to the stars in the darkest of nights. I would ask you if you couldn’t see that I was drowning deep in darkest depths of deepest sea, always on the edge of being me? I would ask: ‘Won’t you believe that it’s me I’m frightened to see and that I’d rather meet the darkest nights instead of the glee that I might catch at the edge of my eye?’ I would tell you that surely you know that you are how I picture my peace of mind and that you are just and that you are kind and that you know what you want in your life, and that this is all I want in my life. But surely you too know that who I am is not how I wake up in the day, always afraid and somehow only brave in the face of my mind’s raids. I would tell you that I’m only me high above the sky under the clouds of night and behind those who know what is right. I’m a shadow, I’m the dark. I’m the one who only sparks when all around are losing their hearts and my heart is the one that’s beating within the stars. I breathe to the rhythm of the leaves and the breathing of the trees. To the written down thoughts hidden under the waves and waves of sea. I walk to the creatures of dark deep soul and the ones who only show that they exist in the face of the words ‘I know’ and somehow this is the only thing I don’t know how to do.

So, you can ask me again who I am, and I’ll tell you that that’s something I can’t tell in the possible words of your mind so you might actually understand. But I’d rather tell you that than to choose not to choose a way to try to explain why the last time my path separated I sat down and cried and couldn’t stop crying until I had to move again and leave behind the sorrow and the pain when I would’ve loved to take both ways.

Isn’t it better to fly above the separating way and avoid the heartbreak when you realize that you should’ve maybe never have been there in the first place? Isn’t it better to be what cannot decide since all that came of choice was guilt of neglecting a side? Since all that came of choice was me hating myself for wanting it all and never being able to make that call. Since all that came of choice was freedom and freedom was what scared me to a point where I knew I couldn’t withdraw. If it would have just been me being free of having to choose what I wanted it to be…

[lazywritingrockstudent]

Faces unknown

I’ve always wondered who it was staring across the room. A story I haven’t heard and a story I won’t be told. Her eyes were a mystery haunting my dreams. Solemn and sad and like nothing my heart had ever felt. Her voice would be hidden in the mist, guarded by the gates of spring. Her figure dancing through the woods while on my wall standing still. I couldn’t quite place the feelings that rose in my chest when I watched the woman I have never met. Probably someone to place my trust and whisper about life and words and love. Probably someone to laugh with about the silliest things that came to my mind when we walked across fields of sunflowers bright. Probably someone to sing a lullaby next to my bed every other night. Probably someone I’m sure I would have met if our times would have been right and not as it now is.

Some days I like to imagine an occasion where she crossed my path, I could’ve asked her why her face looked at me across the room from a wall. And why the girls right beside her have been the reason I questioned history, mine and theirs and my family’s. I died to know why the face of a girl could show so many emotions when she hasn’t seen anything of the world. Or had she seen enough to laugh still, or even because she thought one day she might will? What could possibly light up a mind so much to shine brighter than the solemn of her mothers’ eyes? And why was the other like a deep, dark autumn wood? Colourful tangled phrases written in her closed-up look.

A mystery truly, how the woman and those girls were pictures on my wall, and I have never known how they got their place there after all. A melody toppled through my mind as I watched their faces time after time. I followed it and kept its way, in hope that it maybe one day, led me to the story I haven’t been told.

And as I travelled along the melody, I recognized something that wasn’t quite memory but similar such as a déja-vu. The wind rose above the leaves and the trees were swaying and it seemed as though the world had stopped short in it’s track to never let the moment pass when a mother with a solemn look would take her daughters for a picture they took.

[lazywritingrockstudent]

The Wings Of Icarus

I had a dream last night that woke me from my sleep. I could not grasp the memories I knew I longed to keep. The feeling of a breeze embracing my skin was what was left as the only living thing. I knew I lost it, but of what kind I could not define. If it was the rising sun, a season, or a line. If it was a breath or the beating of my heart, my whole soul or maybe just a part.

Whatever it was, I wanted to drench myself with the left-over hope after I’ve slept. Maybe for a moment to remember my dream so I would not forget it. So, I closed my eyes and I prayed to the sun that whatever I lost would come back to me once I was home. Darkness met my vision, nothing but shadows of the past. Long-lost treasures, these tiny, those vast. I reached for them as for they may hold my dream. Just as I touched them, they turned into streams of foam and bubbles and captured air. The one I knew carried me when I was somewhere. Somewhere else above my world, a kind heart at the bottom of salt. A loving mind waiting for his son to be hold. A tear falling, falling as his loved one did, strays of sun crazing his skin.

The pain, it came back clawing at my chest. At my innermost agony defying his rest. At what was left of me after reaching for the sun and burning with love and holding out my hand, so that he could capture me and stop my fall, so I would lie in his caring arms after all.

[lazywritingrockstudent]

The pained piano

I am afraid of men. They scare me. When I meet a man on the sidewalk, when I look at him and he looks at me, I ask myself if he sees me as an object and if he maybe wants to hurt me or insult me. Multiple men are even worse. They don’t have to look intimidating. They don’t have to look frightening. They just have to be men. The age doesn’t matter. Not to me.

When I was younger, I was forcefully kissed, with tongue. By a man I trusted deeply at this time. Until this day I am not able to sit next to him and not be uncomfortable. I avoid his presence and I avoid being alone with him. His personality traits repulse me, and I hate him with every fibre of my heart. But I love him too because he has a part in making me who I am and even though right now I am not proud of who I am, I know one day I will.

Three years ago, a man asked me who I was. I didn’t know him. He was a stranger in a strange city, and he asked me how I was. Weeks after this incident I lied to everyone saying I didn’t answer him. I told him my name. And then I ran because he asked me if I wanted to go with him. Some time after that another man in my hometown started talking to me and I haven’t felt this hopeless and frightened since the last time I was spoken to by a stranger. I faked a phone call and ran away again. He seemed strange in every possible meaning of the word. He knew a lot of things and he had seen a lot of the world. I knew he wasn’t a bad man. Maybe he only wanted to talk to me. But I had made a bad experience and he, like every other male, seemed like a threat to me.

A friend once told me that I may attract strangers because I looked approachable. I never thought I looked approachable. To me I looked like I wanted the world to leave me alone. Even before the first stranger.

Today I talked with a former classmate about motorcycles and Harry Potter. He said that women are worse drivers than men. I agreed with him even though I knew it was complete bullshit. I just didn’t want to disagree and fight for my opinion. I am still ashamed of myself. If I lie when it comes to such unimportant things, what will I do if it actually matters one day? Hours after this conversation I read a post about a girl and how Athena gave her strength and courage to do the right thing even though she was afraid. I currently read a book about a woman who was raped when she was 16-17 years old. I had to stop reading after at least finishing the chapter. It’s not a book about rape. It’s about feminism and power and what is wrong in our society. This morning I was at the verge of a panic attack because I thought about the forced kiss. I reined my feelings in and ignored them like I usually did.

I feel helpless.

I don’t WANT to hate the world.

I don’t WANT to hate all men.

I don’t WANT to believe that the world is a bad and dangerous place like all humans are bad and dangerous.

I fucking WANT TO BELIEVE IN THE GOOD THINGS but the world is making it unbearably difficult for me

Thinking back it all started with my first not-first kiss. From this moment on I kept seeing him as a predator who had a nasty temper, even less fucks to give about my mental health and as a representative of the male kind. I dealt with his tantrums, learned to agree with him and I learned to listened to him when he explained things to me like I was stupid and when he treated me like I was stupid and thought he could teach how the world works while insulting my whole life and what I’ve worked for so far.

He was the beginning of my end and when I get away one day, and I will, then I pray to all the gods that maybe exist, that they will leave me be without his imprint on my soul. He does not deserve this.

Ironically, he is the only person I show my texts to. My most private thoughts and feelings.

I hate myself

Can someone help me not to hate myself anymore?

[lazywritingrockstudent]

A brave lover

I have dared a look in your eyes and I couldn't resist another as I dared to look twice.

I have felt the warmth of your palm against my palm in the midst of a thousand arms.

I have seen your heart topple like mine over and over the lights above our heads and the music in our minds.

I have tastet the sweetest smiles from your lips as if they were the honey I needed to sip.

I have brought your hands close to my chest to hold on to the beating and thrumming you seemed to be so fond of.

I have let you be enough and be the air my lungs needed to draw besides the pages and notes and written down words.

I have been a brave lover and a tender beloved but I don't know if what I dared has been enough to let you know that I care and that I never wanted you gone.

[lazywritingrockstudent]

Me, myself and I

Who lives in a world with thousand lifes? Monsters, Dragons, with Hope and Pride Even it's hard, I carry on I'm still smiling like Stars and sun.

Like moon and snow it's dark and cold, At the end I know, I'm the one who Sold His mind for people, dont even care For me it's important you know I'm there All your worries will fade away Maybe Not with a Smile but someday.

And so it is with moon and snow It's Not the end but beautiful I believe in dreams and I believe in worlds Full of music, of pictures and inspiring words.

In my head, I'm brave, I'm smart I carry on with an open heart May the day is Not the best But it's worthy to live the rest

[lazywritingrockstudent]

Die Kunst

Es ist wie ein Sturm Ein Gefühl und ein Weg Das Blut das in den Adern pulsiert Schlägt für diesen einen Moment in der Ewigkeit Für ein Nichts und wie geschaffen für alles

Tränen die wie Ströme rinnen Augen die suchen, nach was sie sich verzehren Eine Hand ergriffen und zu mir gezogen Sehnsucht verstärkt durch die Melodie

Ein Strudel besiegt und Chaos überflutet Die Struktur im Innern wie ein Gigant Schweiß und Lust getrieben durch Liebe Die Kunst in all ihren göttlichen Formen

Verliebt, verhasst und zur Unsäglichkeit verdammt Wo Worte nur beschrieben Wo Töne nur begleiten Wo ein Tänzer die Faden zieht Die Kunst in all ihren göttlichen Formen

[lazywritingrockstudent]

Agape

Tränen wie Sand Gehalten geflossen

Ehrlich und stark Geblieben gebrochen

Gehofft und gebangt Eine Ewigkeit lang

Ein Wirbel im Kopf Verkannt wie gebannt

Gehofft gezittert Gelitten die Qual

Den Kampf geschlagen Im Innern nur kalt

Hoffnung nur sieh Was Rose dir gibt

Wahr ist nur Ein Herz das liebt

[lazywritingrockstudent]

Es geht mir gut

Was machst du so?

Wie fühlst du dich?

Irgendwie, ich weiß es nicht

Es geht mir gut.

 Warum bist du still?

Sag doch was.

Irgendwas, ich weiß es nicht

Es geht mir gut.

 Wann sieht man dich?

Wo bist du so?

Irgendwo, ich weiß es nicht.

Es geht mir gut

 Wer trifft dich noch?

Ich sehe dich nicht

Irgendwer, ich weiß es nicht

Es geht mir gut.

 Wie kannst du nur?

Du bist nicht da.

Irgendwie, ich weiß es nicht.

Es geht mir gut.

[lazywritingrockstudent]

Tell me who you are

Can’t you see that I want to fly high high high above the sky always to the stars in the darkest of nights?

Can’t you see I'm drowning deep in darkest depths of deepest sea, always on the edge of being me?

Won't you believe that it's me I'm frightened to see and that I'd rather meet the darkest nights instead of the glee that I might catch at the egde if my eye?

Surely you knoww that yor are how I picture my peace of mind and that you are just and that you are kind and that all I want is to be exactly that in my life.

But surely you too know that who I am is not how I wake up in the day, always afraid abd somehow only brave in the face of my minds raids.

You need to see that I'm only me high above the sky under the clouds of night and behind those who are bright.

I'm a shadow. I'm the dark. I'm the one who only sparks whenn all around are losing their hearts and my heart is the one that's beating within the stars.

I breathe to the rythm of the leafes and the breathing of the trees. To the written down thoughts hidden under the waves and waves of sea.

I walk to the creature of dark deep soul any the ones who only show that they exist in the face of glow. Glow and shine and lightning bright and all the only things you might are frightened to know.

There is no sense of who I am just that I am and that I learn and that inside my head there's a room where I stand for my own minds sanitys sake in the face of your face and against all odds that I might break under the pressure of my hearst secrect health.

Hidden under milions of layers of shadows and nights and stars I know I'm safe and sound. And only when no one's around I let you inside. In the to the me and to my creatures and my clouds and my waves and all the things I wasn't brave enough to say out loud to you when you wanted to know.

So when you ask again of who I am, I'll tell you that that's something I can't tell in the possible words of your mind so you might actually understand.

(Not my picture but I don't know who's it is...sorry)

[lazywritingrockstudent]

I am a reader

No human in this world could be as fascinating and stunning, as perfect and lovely, wonderful and worthy as the world created by the great power of imagination and words. I have a hard time falling in love because I feel like my idea of love is too naïve and phantastic. I couldnt bear it to lose this image of love to the disappointing world of reality. I would rather life without it still not lonely because of the books I read and the love those pretty real characters feel. So dont judge me for being a dreamer and an observer. Dont judge me for being alone and smiling into the pages. Those pages will always be the one thing, keeping me sane when everything goes down and I cant outrun the chaos and the destruction my mind causes.

I appreciate your effort to keep me down to the earth, wanting me to be a realist. And I am. I really am. But I am also a reader. And thats why I never will be able to be a true realist. Thats why I never will be able to forget the love and the courage and the grief. The wonders of the world and nature. Humans and phantastic creatures. I believe in the special things and I believe in the power of the mind.

Never underestimate me. Do not think, not for one moment, that I am innocent and that I will spare you because my heart will ache and it will kill me. That it will keep me dead in a body alive.

[lazywritingrockstudent]

My realm

When I open my eyes

There are things that I can see

And there are things that I can feel.

When I open my eyes

There are things that I can smell

And there are things that I can tell.

When I open my eyes

I recognize reality

Where I live by

Unrecognized and unseen.

But if my eyes are closed

There are the things I truly seek

The ones that are my destiny.

If my eyes are closed

I know where I belong

Not this realm

But another one.

If my eyes are closed

My mind is aware

Of the truth that this is where

I actually belong and that it is not here.

[lazywritingrockstudent]

A story of pictures

A map on my arm

To never forget my way

An anchor on my wrist

To never forget my home

A book over my heart

To never forget to love

And the ink on my skin

To always remember my dreams.

[lazywritingrockstudent]

Ab wann gilt man eigentlich als verloren?

Erst dann, wenn man nicht entscheiden kann, ob man wirklich vorwärts geht?

Oder dann, wenn du merkst, dass du ständig die falsche Richtung wählst?

Vielleicht auch erst dann, wenn du komplett die Orientierung verloren hast.

Und alles was dir eigentlich fehlt, ist ein genordeter Kompass.

Ich Für mich weiß, wo mein Norden ist.

Dass mein letzter Weg eben doch immer du bist.

Mein Stern in der Nacht und meine Sonne am Tag

Mein Wegweiser und Richtungsgeber

Schiedsrichter und Entscheidungshelfer

Freund und Mittäter

Unterstüter und Rechtgeber.

Vielleicht lege ich mir einfach ein Navi zu,

Aber ist es nicht schöner so?

Ich an deiner Seite und mein Norden bist du?