My dear friend

I encountered Death today, he sat beside me on a bench in the park, an old man hardened by his many years. We sat a long while in silence, as I watched him feeding the pigeons. He sighed and gazed after them as they took flight into the clear blue sky.
“It wears an old man out, this work I do.” He said as he looked right through me with a distant stare. “It tires me not being wanted when I come. And it breaks my heart when they welcome me with a smile.”
I studied his face, as I memorized each furrow and line. I took note of crooked fingers on hands that were shaking, nearly unnoticeable. A long life on duty in the afterlife, as a bringer and a guide, was reflected in his eyes, and had given him a sorrowful smile.
He sighed again, and closed his eyes. And as I watched my aging friend, I couldn’t help but wonder; could Death ever retire?

No poet

I’m no poet, my words are simple and plain.
A resort when all other means seems in vain.

Sometimes they come naturally, they find me somehow,
and all I do is receive, say my thanks and bow.

At other times, they hide, and I have to seek them out.
Finding words to compliment my feelings, that’s what it’s all about..

Engrossed in my darkness, feeling lone and weak,
I write down the words I can’t bear to speak.

That’s when I search for my words in all the wrong places,
finding them hidden behind unfamiliar faces.

It’s a strange thing, really, how words can lead you astray,
and at the same time they will guide you back to you way..

I often find that my word making my head spin,
when I thought I was loosing, they make sure I win.

But usually my words take me where I don’t want to go,
telling me things I really don’t want to know.

They dig into my soul, and they’re not very kind,
revealing everything I’ve buried in the back of my mind.

When I pick up my pen, and let my thoughts drift,
they grab the chance, attacking precisely and swift.

Always finding the right spot to cause me distress,
turning my mind into a absolute mess.

Still, I keep on writing, I can’t tell you why.
There’s no explanation, even if I try..

These words, they force their way into my mind,
and I can’t resist writing down the once that I find.

They’re not always cheerful, they often make me sad.
And sometimes, the fact that they’re there, drives me mad.

Words are for writer and poets, not me.
They need someone that understands what they can be.

I believe words are like people, they have different sides,
and you can’t really know what that within them resides.

Yet, I scribble down everything, and nothing at all,
knowing it’ll pick me up when I fall.

My words are my refuge, they keep me from going insane.
And the fact is, it doesn’t really bother me that they’re plain.

Without my writing, my head would probably explode,
or at least my sanity would crumble under the heavy load.

I am not a poet, just an admirer of every word and phrase,
and the astonishing ability they hold to amaze.

The difference between “me” and me..

I haven’t been a very good blogger lately,
and for this I apologize.
But I have to say, it’s not alway that easy.
When I started blogging on “My Sphere…”,
I made a choice never to bee too personal.
I have another blog for that.
What happens in everyday life wasn’t important.
Creativity and opinions more so..

But as Majann pointed out to me today -
I can’t just separate myself from myself..
Every word I write is obviously ME.
But I’ve still tried to keep some sort of distance.

I failed, and horribly so.
I do acknowledge this fact.
Like my last entry.
Not distanced at all!
Actually, it was quite personal.
Honest and straightforward.
And it taught me this:
One is not supposed to blog at 3.55 in the morning!
Ones judgement is strangely clouded in the middle of the night.

Anyway, I have also made it a rule that I never delete posts.
So,  “When life hands you lemons..” stays.
But I will try not to do it again.
Some thing are not meant for everyone to read.
Sorrow and frustration should not provoke this.

As I might have mentioned,
writing is my way of processing reality.
I often find myself exposed within my words.
And at some points in life, that just doesn’t feel right.
I’m going through a phase like that..

The result: It’s been quiet.
And I can not promise a sudden change in that fact.
I need to process, but I can’t do it here.
Maybe I’ll find it appropriate to publish some old stuff,
or maybe I’ll find a sudden inspiration to write something brand new.
Only time will show.

There is a difference between “me” an the real ME.
“I” write this blog. Dark an despaired as it is.
I  am someone else, and yet the same..
I wrote the last post. Personal an vulnerable.
“I” stray away from reality, and find comfort somewhere far away.

I have created this Sphere for “myself”,
and within it is my sanctuary.

When life hands you lemons..

The day you walked into my life – I think that’s where I’ll start
this short and unexpected tale of my broken heart.

When we first met, I relished every glance at you that I could steal.
I remember how your radiant and contagious smile made me feel.
If I was ever cold, you’re the one who made me melt.
I can still remember how easy life suddenly felt.

Second time around you swept me away.
My fluttering heart wished for you to stay.
Every second spent together was more than I’d hoped for,
and every kiss you gave me left me yearning for more.

I never thought that I could fall that fast…
But our time was short, it didn’t last.

Looking back, I think you did one thing wrong,
and that was keeping me around way too long.
Yet, I can’t even begin to regret
out time spent together, or the fact that we met.

It was all just too sweet, and I miss it very much -
all the laughs and smiles, the stares, and your warm touch.
I know that it’s over. I listened, you know.
But I still find it hard to actually let go.

I surprised myself with how deep my feelings ran.
And you saying goodbye was never part of the plan.

But there is no way I can blame you for all this pain.
I can only say, you efforts was not in vain.
You made me fall in love. Though it seemed an impossible task,
you somehow got to the real me – hiding behind my mask.

It’s just sad that you didn’t stick around
to claim that beating heart that you finally had found..

Paths

HALF HIDDEN BEHIND A MIST OF GREY IS A FUTURE I’LL NEVER SEE -
THE LIFE I’D LEAD IF I ALLOWED MYSELF TO BE THE TRUE ME.
BUT HERE I STAND, HIDING BEHIND A MASK, WEARING A PERPETUAL SMILE.
WALKING IN SOMEONE ELSES SHOES, TRUDGING DOWN A MADE-UP GREEN MILE.

TWO PATHS ALWAYS IN FRONT OF ME, MY SHACKLES LEAD MY WAY.
WALKING STRAIGHT INTO THE DARK, BESIDE ME, ON THE OTHER PATH, I CAN FEEL THE SUN THAT RAY.
MY CHIN HELD HIGH, GAZING INTO THE NOTHINGNESS, I TRY STEALING GLIMPSES OF WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN.
SOMETIMES THE SPACE BETWEEN THE TWO PATHS FEELS SO GRASPABLE AND THIN.
BUT I REMAIN BOUND TO MY OWN, THE RESULT OF CHOICES THAT TURNED BAD.
I DREAM OF WALKING INTO THE MIST, DISCOVERING WHAT I MIGHT HAVE HAD.

AROUND ME THE TREES ARE BARE, THE GROUND COVERED WITH SHIMMERING SNOW.
THE ILLUSION WAS SO TEMPTING, BUT ONLY ALLOWED ME TO SEE MY OWN DOWNFALL FROM FRONT ROW.
LIKE IN A THEATER, I WATCHED MYSELF TAKE THE FIRST, UNCERTAIN STEPS WILLINGLY INTO THE COLD.
KNOWING NOW THAT I’M COMPELLED TO WALK THIS ROAD AS I GROW OLD.

THE OTHER LIFE, HIDDEN FROM ME BEHIND A MISTY FILM, IS WHAT KEEPS ME ALIVE.
IMAGINING CROSSING OVER TO THAT SECOND PATH, IS MY MOTIVATION TO STRIVE.
A PRIZE SO FULFILLING JUST OUTSIDE THE BOUNDARIES OF MY GRIP,
AND EVERY TIME I REACH FOR IT, I  ALLOW MY PAIN TO RIP.
I KNOW THAT WHAT I YEARN FOR CAN NEVER BE MINE,
SO I WEAR MY SMILING MASK WITH DIGNITY, PRETENDING THAT I’M FINE.

BUT IF YOU LOOK CLOSER, YOU’LL SEE HOW MY WRISTS AND FINGERS BLEED.
TEARING AT MY SHACKLES, I’VE STRUGGLED TO BE FREED.
MY MIND ALWAYS IN ANOTHER LIFE, MY BODY REMAINS IN THIS.
I LONG FOR THE SUNLIGHT, DESIRE THINGS I DON’T KNOW I MISS.

NOT KNOWING WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN KEEPS ME GOING,
LET’S ME TAKE ON ALL THE PAIN THAT THIS LIFE KEEPS ON THROWING.
I STRUGGLE FOR MY FREEDOM, AN ABILITY TO WALK EFFORTLESS OVER TO THAT OTHER PATH.
KNOWING IT’S MY OWN FAULT I’M HERE, I NOURISH ON MY WRATH.
IT MAKES ME STRONGER, LET’S ME SHINE IN THIS CHARADE.
I AM A PRISONER OF BAD CHOICES, CAPTIVATED BY THE DECISIONS THAT I’VE MADE.

MY PUNISHMENT IS ALL IN MY MIND, MY BODY’S ALWAYS BEEN FREE.
BUT MY SIGHT IS CLOUDED, ONLY SEEING WHAT I ALLOW MYSELF TO SEE.
TWO PARALLEL PATHS IN FRONT OF ME, ONE WITHIN A HAZE, THE OTHER CLEAR AS DAY.
I STICK TO THE OBVIOUS ONE, SEEMING DESTINED – I NEVER HAD A SAY..

STILL, I BROUGHT THIS ON MYSELF, I KNOW THAT MUCH IS TRUE.
AND I’D PROBABLY MAKE MY CHOICES TWICE, EVEN IF I KNEW.
I DECIDED TO WEAR THIS MASK OF MINE, MY SHACKLES WERE LOCKED BY MY OWN HAND.
THE KEY IS HIDDEN SOMEWHERE ONLY I KNOW, WITHIN MY OWN FICTIONAL DREAMLAND.
I HOLD THE POWER TO LIVE OR TO LET DIE.
THEREFOR, I WEAR MY STRAINED SMILE -  I HAVE NO REASON TO CRY.

I GUESS THINGS COULD HAVE BEEN DIFFERENT IF I WISHED IT SO.
BUT I’LL STAY A CAPTIVE, THAT IS MY CHOISE – SO I GUESS WE’LL NEVER KNOW.