Spartanmouse

And so here we stand, looking into the unknown: Another long week stretched out before us, A vast plane of uncertain possibility.   Just out of view, the minutes are neatly stacked, Each patiently waiting for its allotted time. With every tick of the clock, They creep steadily closer to revealing their lot.   Who knows what they will hold? Dull monotony for seven long days, Or shock and surprise at every hour? The sense of anticipation is palpable.   Whatever happens to you and whatever happens to me, I hope we'll have the strength to take the bad with the good. I hope we'll have the grace to be thankful for the good amongst the bad. I hope we'll take comfort in knowing that even in our loneliest moments, we never truly need be alone. I hope we'll have hope that the next minute may bring something better, And I hope we'll dare to believe that life might one day be wonderful again.   I can but hope.

I gave you all that I had. It wasn't much. Just my little heart, bonded to yours so I could feel your every beat, and hear your every sigh.   How does your heart still pulse, torn so savagely away? Only tatters of mine remain. They ache, these quivering tatters, limp, tender, bloody, raw, bruised and sore. I burn, and I sting, and I bleed.   Let this be a dream, and I'll awake from these nine months of madness never having known you; never having soared above the highest clouds into the endless blue sky, on nothing but the warmth of your embrace; never having imagined that I'd stumbled upon my reason to be.   Let this be a dream, and I'll awake a lesser human, a lesser man, for never having known this kind of love.   Let this be a dream, and I'll awake to the familiar pallid grey of living not with passion, nor with purpose, but for the sake of living, each day colourless as the day before, and colourless as the day to follow.   But this is already my new life, ...

I used to have a reason to have my hair cut nice and short. I used to have a reason proudly to tidy and dust my room. I used to have a reason to change my bed sheets and to wash my clothes too. I used to have a reason to make nice food.   I didn't do any of these things this week. But today I had my hair cut nice and short for no reason, Because if I stopped doing things that have no reason, I'd do nothing at all.

Woe betide the man who forgets how lucky he is. 누구든지 자신이 얼마나 운이 좋은지 알지 못하면 자신에게 불행하다.

The clock has ticked and tocked again, To bring another day, So to the office now I go, To work these hours of light.   There I know I'll miss a boy, Who's had to stay away, Because it's not as bright for him, But cold and dark as night.   I'd light another sun to help, If I could find a way, But I'm no god; a mere man, I've no such mystic might.   I can but hold him in my heart, Where he'll always stay, And know, deep down, his hand's in mine, There grasped forever tight.

The sweet aroma of cheap lager and cider, The delicate fragrance of stubbed out spliffs, The uplifting sound of 20 young voices roaring with laughter and shouting jibes and expletives in shrill cacophonic chorus, The invigorating pleasure of being jostled by Kappa-clad adolescents as they entertain themselves by throwing things at the turbans of fellow passengers and pouring alcopops on one another. If I ever called it snobbish to refuse to use buses, I take it back.

You let me adore you, once. Warmly, you smiled at me, And tenderly you spoke, I never wanted a hero, Just something warm and tender to cherish.   Now you are gone, You deny me.   All I have left are my memories. Weightless, like ash, I hold them in my hand, And watch as the breeze steals you piece by piece.   I’ll drink to your memory, while it lasts, While it lasts it will sear me inside, A toast will subdue the sting.   I’ll drink to your memory, while it lasts, When it’s gone, I’ll be empty inside, A toast will help it linger on.   I’ve no more tomorrows. I’ve no more todays. I lost them all when you shunned me, You took them all away.