'tis the tequila talking

Chronos

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Sun, 10 Jun 2007 04:04:00 +0000

Our little dot on an orbit.
The sundial. The clock. The calendar.
Atoms. Molecules. Democritus' immortality.

Thought and things.
Age. Time. Mind. Movement.

Balance.

Tightrope. Acrobatics.
Center of gravity.
Tricks.

Impact. Consequence.

Here and there.
Here or there.

Velocity.
Acceleration and negative acceleration.
Brakes.

Silence and echolocation.
Waves. Distortions.
Throbbing. Chords.
Music.

Laughter and paroxysms.
Voice box. Vocal chords.

Temperature.
Freeze and burn.
Melt. Evaporate.

Pressure.
Balance.
Sound.

Breath. Expansion of lungs.

Force times distance.
Drive. Engines.
Drive. Motivation.
Work.

Potential energy.
Kinetic energy.
Thought. Movement.

Relativity.

Distance and displacement.
Gravity and impact.
And light.

Spectrum. Colors.
Work.

Physics.
All studied, textbooked physics.

More Vagueness

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Thu, 07 Jun 2007 01:17:00 +0000

Glass.

One day, all of a sudden,
Spiderwebbed.

Cracked--
the way the heart is
when it realizes it must beat for itself now.

Intact.

Still Intact.

So fill it with wine again,
With water, with juice.
And drink.

By all means, drink.

But--

Pressure of lips,
lighter now.
Not like before.

Careful.
Very careful now.

As it should be.

Question

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Sat, 02 Jun 2007 06:26:00 +0000

If the soul is the human being's core of emotions and all thoughts and all those other things that can lead people astray, without it, with just the spirit and body, would a human being cease to be imperfect?

Last Song Syndrome

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Sat, 02 Jun 2007 01:17:00 +0000

My song of the moment. A last song syndrome. A diary I didn't write.
Yup. I know what it's talking about. Haha.

-----

Song: Goin' Where The Wind Blows
Artist: Mr. Big

Someone said life is for the taking
Here I am with my hand out, waiting for a ride
I've been living on my great expectations
What good is it when I'm stranded here
And the world just passes by?

Where are the signs to help me get out of this place?

If I should stumble on my moment in time,
How will I know if the story's written on my face--
Does it show?
Am I strong enough to walk on water?
Smart enough to come in out of the rain?
Or am I a fool, going where the wind blows?

Here I sit halfway to somewhere
Thinking about what's in front of me and
what I left behind
On my own, supposed to be so easy
Is this what I've been after
Or have I lost my mind?

Maybe this is my chance coming to take me away...

Here I am--
Walking naked through the world
Taking up space, society's child
Make room for me, make room for me
Make room for me...

6AM Musings

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Sat, 02 Jun 2007 00:59:00 +0000

Soul claimed that she was Honesty, and that Logic was a traitor. Soul, the thespian. She called her medic, her iodine, her bandaid a traitor. Logic was Fear, she accused, Fear in disguise. Trapping her. It was not protection; it was imprisonment. Soul said, I am Honesty. I deserve voice. The dramatist, the artist needs her stage.

And Logic told her: don't flatter yourself. I guard. He said, my loyalty is to the Playwright.

-----

Talk about vague.

Dawn

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Wed, 23 May 2007 03:30:00 +0000

Thank God. BA Comparative Literature. Things are looking up. All I need is a dorm now. Haha.

-----

Trust that your Father will provide. It gets a little hard, waiting, but it happens.

Whapak

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Mon, 21 May 2007 07:08:00 +0000

"There’s a battle going on out there in the world and inside the best of us. (...) Go where your moral compass leads you." - Tay Ernie

-----

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. (...) You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightening about shrinking, so that other people won’t feel unsure around you. (...) As we are liberated from our own fear; our presence automatically liberates others." - Nelson Mandela

-----

bullets of thought and wisdom that struck hard and got stuck in marrow.

Need Eng 11

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Thu, 17 May 2007 04:31:00 +0000

ah yes. life in UPD. joy. so much joy.

-----

haha. i can't complain properly. i signed up for this.

Horseplay

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Tue, 15 May 2007 11:27:00 +0000

Standstill. The silence of thought deafens the ear to the mockery of time passing by. Tempests in the mind overflow in an audible sigh. Then a difficult smile, that humors the world that humors me. Rambunctious thoughts squeal around happily, carelessly, from day until sunset until dreams. Contain them. Coddle them. Discipline them. Indulge them. Naughty jigsaw pieces that won't sit still. Children dancing and playing dress-up. Hide and seek. Tag.

I'm it again.

Sweat pours profusely in the useless, endless chase. Then, fatigue pulls the reins and I realize I've grown older while catching nothing in the mischievous games. Standstill. Let the silence lead to the evasive little giggles and mockeries. Wait a while and see. They will grow and get tired too. They will tell me soon why they laugh so hard, when we face each other around the warmth of a dancing campfire. When the world stops humoring me, I will join them in laughter.

-----

these thoughts are what people would normally call a mess.

To Each His Own Soap Opera

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Sun, 13 May 2007 05:05:00 +0000

Maybe people only say they want to forget, but they don't really mean it, because somewhere inside them they know that these stories are worth carrying around with them; these stories changed them and molded them; these stories made them experience what life is--scars, bloodshed, alien encounters, imaginary friends and all. So these are stories that they want to keep, no matter how scary or exhilarating or painful, because they know these are stories worth telling someday.

Yeah.

People always weave unpublished biographies of their lives in their heads, with threads from their ideas, internal battles, and experiences. They always have something to tell, some unaired soap opera playing in their minds. Some choose to share their stories; others choose to make their silence a part of their stories. In any case, there's always that constant, intangible, inner drama. Everyone is somehow aware of it, and they dote on it, build it. Even the silent. Even the shy. Even the boring.

Even me.

Words

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Fri, 04 May 2007 07:35:00 +0000

Pain. Strength. Choice. Words I use often. Words I use when I realize certain things. Words I use to try to keep others holding on. Words I say so I could keep going. Words I purposely broadcast so that I'll be forced to live up to them (for fear of hypocrisy). Words people don't always listen to. Words that can get old and heavy. Words I hate sometimes.

...

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Fri, 04 May 2007 00:02:00 +0000

I learned: you don't apologize and then rub salt into the wound.

Dissection

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Tue, 01 May 2007 13:34:00 +0000

Thoughts.

-----

I don’t know how I care. I’m not sure how I love.

Of all the emotions, it’s defiance and anger that come to me most easily. Often, when pain, shock, worry, or fear provokes me, everything falls into a muted murmur by default. My temper is the first to seize motion, and it begins to pick on the cause, berating it uselessly for happening. The defiance is ever in place, unwilling to give in to the provocation. They form a cocoon of sorts that protects as well as convicts me. Because of them, news don’t sink in immediately and I can’t react that well. Unfortunately, the pain usually finds ways to catch up when everyone else is over the thing.

Sometimes, it’s a blessing, allowing me to go on and move about so I could finish the things that I need to get done. But other times, it’s a curse, building pressure but never letting it loose, never letting anything break--letting the pain build until slowly, ever so slowly, it subsides.

I fear this cocoon. I fear it because I don’t know why it’s there. I fear it because it keeps me from my emotions, from the things that can gauge how people live their moments, from the things that trigger memory.

Why is it there?

Is it my defense mechanism, a way for me to keep my sanity in check?

I’m sure it’s a little of helplessness. I dislike things that hurt me and make me feel inadequate because I can’t really help make them right, no matter what I say. There are those moments when I know I’m simply useless, and I loathe it.

Is it also arrogance? Can I not deign to have my heart and soul so injured for anything? Maybe I just don’t want to get hurt. Maybe I’m so focused on the things that I have to do that I don’t even stop for anything else.

Maybe it’s resignation. Passiveness. Maybe I’m indifferent to pain and suffering. I know they’re a part of life. I know they exist. I know they mock and jest with everyone. Maybe I’ve become so familiar with them that they’ve become ordinary to me.

Is it practicality? Have I gotten so used to the notion that life really sucks once in a while that I’ve guarded myself against breaking each time life provokes me to? After all, if it happens so often, it would be impractical to slow down each time I stumble on a disappointment. Maybe it’s the live with what you cannot change thing.

Or maybe I’m just heartless.

I don’t know how I care. I’m not sure how I love.

I crave every so often to cry and break down, to release tears as a tribute to things lost or broken. I want to worry, and I mean worry so much that I can feel my heart straining against my ribcage. I want my breathing to grow short and uneven. I want to feel cold. I want to give in. There are things that I wish so much I could shatter for, if just as a manifestation of a struggle inside me that pleads not to be separated from the things I want to keep. I don’t want to just freeze. I don’t want to just go numb.

Is lack of pain that you feel even in the most painful moments a sign that you are heartless? But that’s another weird thing about this nature of mine. I cannot say I don’t feel pain. I don’t feel it all at once at the initial impact, but there’s that throb that never quite stops, and even when the whole thing is over, it goes on to antagonize the soul a little bit longer.

I like to think that it’s faith that holds me back from falling. I like to think it’s the one that keeps me steady. It’s what reassures me that the things that have come to pass and will come to pass have been Planned. Everything will be okay, though “okay” may not necessarily correspond to our concept of okay. I like to think I manage to stay immune to suffering because I am fixed on the belief that everything happens for a reason; everything is as it should be--as a learning process, as a test of will and courage, as the way life teaches us.

I can’t really tell why that cocoon is so often there. Maybe I am defiant and angry because of a little of all those things--defense, helplessness, arrogance, resignation, practicality, faith. Or maybe it’s not defiance and anger at all.

This is my nature, frustrating and assisting me. It lets me take things in stride, keeping me from weeping unless I have to. It makes me choose immediately, at the point where the first cut should usually be the deepest: shall I hope or shall I break? Often, I hope. Meanwhile, I won’t grieve over things not yet lost.

Perhaps this is one of the ways that I love: in the desire to break and worry so much, and in the frustration because of my incapacity to do so. Pain hardly ever hits me directly, and I seldom cry, but I acknowledge pain; I understand it and feel it in my own way. I trust that things get better, and when they do, I embrace that. It’s like it’s hard for me to grieve over milk, whether spilled, in danger of spilling, or perfectly intact.

Life is like that. It’s hard. And we do need to live with what we cannot change.

So, now, I confront myself and the mess of my defenses, inhibitions, principles, and suppressions with what matters most at the end of the day. To want to care is care. To want to love is love. So even if it can get vague to me how I care and how I love, I know I care and love. And that’s plenty to get along with, because although people may have a concept of how things are handled--and by those standards, I really might fail for lack of emotional tendencies besides mood swings and a hot temper--I give what I can in my own way.

If I am to be judged by the emotions that I yield to, I could be judged as heartless. But for me, no matter what, it’s my choice to stay that makes me who I am--the choice to go through the pains, shocks, worries, and fears in the best way that I know how, the choice not to turn my back.

Nah, I'm not just being defensive.

I don’t know how I care. I’m not sure how I love. But I know: I do.

-----

Hmmm. Yun.

Hmmm

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Tue, 01 May 2007 13:13:00 +0000

Man in the rain, you know the tempest so well...

Existence 101

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Tue, 01 May 2007 13:06:00 +0000

I had a blog once: http://www.dustlesschalk.multiply.com. Nobody knew about it. It was just a place for me to vent with no holds barred. I placed all my reflections and frustrations in the few entries that I posted there. I didn’t want anyone to know about it because I reflect from experiences that I share with people. I didn’t know how they’d react if they read my thoughts, though none of them are meant to offend or criticize.

Anyway, I’ve deleted that blog. Another guy found out about it, so I copied everything into a Word document and deleted my account.

This is one of the entries, just a little bit edited. Why did I come out with it? Well…sayang eh.

Here goes.

-----

Pain is real.

The best kind of pain is the physical one. No matter how long the wounds bleed or how deeply the injuries penetrate, flesh and skin forgive involuntarily. Injuries to the soul are a different story. The soul embraces pain, coddles it, and then struggles to let it go but the sorrow has penetrated too deeply and too intensely into the whole system, it's hard to just shut it out. You know that there's something broken inside you but you just can't figure out where. Thus, for the meantime, you get to deal with it.

There are many ways to do so.

1. Find a passion that would help you regain strength of will. Draw. Speak. Shout. Play. Rock out. Do anything that may be detrimental to nonliving instruments but will at least give you a little satisfaction (a luxury that usually feels like it's in short supply).

2. Hurt yourself, physically. The pain of the flesh can numb the pain of the soul for a time. Get drunk. Cut yourself. Drown in the misery and love the depression. When you've had enough and can't get up on your own anymore, call someone's attention. Terrified of you and terrified for you, people will help. Then at least you will know that you do have people to count on.

3. Hurt others. If someone managed to hurt you, you can restore a little pride by illustrating that you can do your own share of the soul-ravaging. Shout. Offend. Push people away. Make them understand your pain by letting them go through the same thing. Hey, it could work like a screening exam too: you’ll know who your real friends are and who your fair-weather friends are at the end of it all.

Those are three of the most common ways of reacting to pain. All three come with consequences
too.

1. Finding a passion means doing the healing the hard way: leave it to time. Internal pain makes us bleed in a place where it's hardest to heal. Time can move so slowly while you're trying to let it do the bandaging. This takes a lot of guts--something that, I'm happy to say, is always free for acquisition.

2. Hurting yourself physically isn't nice. It hurts. It leaves visible scars. Your weakness becomes evident and you become subjected to opinions of people who may or may not understand what could drive you to inflict pain on yourself. Others will snort at your weakness of heart. Others will pity you. Others will sympathize. In any case, at the end of the day, you get your scabs, and, more often than not, the same old wounds inside.

3. Hurting others won't work if you're the kind of person who has a conscience. Be wary that the conscience is not something people are always conscious of, so even if you think you don't have one, this method of dealing with pain can show you just where your conscience has been hiding. A tainted conscience is no fun. On top of the old pains, you get to feel it tormenting you, telling you that you're not making your life any better. That's just how it works.

So, make your choice. Choice is the only thing you could really claim as yours, and it's the only thing you need to get out of shit. Find yourself. Find your reason. Find your balance. Tighten your hold on the things that keep you strong. Choose your plan of action, because, in life, time never stops even if you do. No one finds favor with it and it doesn’t care who it passes by.

Everyone fends for themselves in the world. We all have to find our own way. So, let’s just get to work learning.

--- first written 07 October 06

Sapagkat Pinipili ang Kaligayahan

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Sat, 28 Apr 2007 06:52:00 +0000

same poem, tagalog translation.

i translated it more for the challenge than anything.
yes. it was a challenge for me.

thanks to ephy for the help.

-----

pagkakamali
ang lahat ay nagkakagulo
pagkalito, sakit, pait

tiis lang, tiis dahil kailangan

sugat
dahan dahan din 'yang gagaling
huwag mong hayaan, huwag mong dagdagan

hintay lang, hintay dahil kailangan

hinagpis
huwag magpaanod sa sakit
kapag nagpadala kay ay madadala ka talaga

tindig lang, tindig dahil kailangan

katanungan
napakagaling pa naman magtago ng mga kasagutan
hahanapin o hihintayin?

hawak lang, hawak dahil kailangan

bigat
di hamak na mahirapan ka
lahat sa mundo'y nahihirapan

laban lang, laban dahil kailangan

alalahanin
huwag kalimutan ang buhay
sa kamalasan at kasiyahan, kaliliman at tagumpay

pili lang, pili dahil kailangan

patuloy lang
huwag magpatalo sa mga pagsusubok
habulin ang kaligayahan

at mag-ingat--sa lahat ng bagay, mag-ingat.

Kay Pinili Baya Ang Kalipay

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Fri, 27 Apr 2007 02:46:00 +0000

sayop
yagaw ang tanang butang
libog, hapdos, pait

antos lang, antos kay kinahanglan

samad
hinay hinay ra na maayo
ayaw baya-i, ayaw dugangi

hulat lang, hulat kay kinahanglan

guol
ayaw'g palabi sa sakit
padala kay madala g'yud ka

tindog lang, tindog kay kinahanglan

pangutana
kuyaw baya manago ang tubag
pangitaun ba o hulatunun?

gunit lang, gunit kay kinahanglan

kabug-at
di lalim nga magkalisud ka
tanan sa kalibutan gakalisud man

sukol lang, sukol kay kinahanglan

hinumdum
ayaw kalimti ang kinabuhi
sa sipyat ug kalipay, kadag-um ug himaya

pili lang, pili kay kinahanglan

padayun
ayaw'g papildi sa imung gibati
gukuri lang ang kalipay

ug pag-amping--sa tanan, pag-amping

-----

bisaya poem. yay.

-----

mistake
everything becomes a mess
confusion, pain, bitterness

just bear it, bear it because you have to

wounds
slowly those will heal
don't let them fester, don't add to them

just wait, wait because you have to

grief
don't let the pain overwhelm you
flow with it and it will take you away

just stand, stand because you have to

ask
amazing how answers could hide
do you look for them or wait for them?

just hold on, hold on because you have to

weight
it's no wonder you have to struggle
everyone in the world struggles

just fight, fight because you have to

remember
do not forget life
in faults and in joys, gray skies and glories

just choose, choose because you have to

move on
don't surrender to your circumstances
chase after bliss (strive to be happy)

and take care--in all things, take care.

-----

translation. there's always nothing like the original, but it works too. ^^

Just Reflections

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Wed, 25 Apr 2007 05:26:00 +0000

Yeah.

Everything does happen for a reason. We learn from our mistakes. We appreciate life with blessings. We get stronger with trials. We find faith when there's nothing tangible to hold on to. We practice and strengthen our will with all those crucial moments when we need to choose.

But the steady, unbending fact that everything happens for a reason doesn't eliminate bleeding or heal wounds. It just dulls the pain--which is actually mercy enough until you do manage to get scabs. That's life.

Things get broken in this world--both the tangible and intangible things. Glasses break. CD’s break. Teeth break. Bones break. Hearts break. Resolutions break. Everything is prone to ending up in pieces. Both fortunately and unfortunately, no man is an island. Man cannot survive without interaction. Interaction means exposure. Exposure means vulnerability, and vulnerability is a gamble.

In the roads you will walk, what will you find? Or what will find you? Pains or pleasures?

Thus, humans begin to grasp the necessity for trust and faith. We find people whom we can rely on to take care not to break too much of us. We try to find the safest place, where we can live our lives and come out with as many fragments intact as possible. We stick to the ones who will support us, whom we can trust not leave us un-mended, even if we know that they will fracture us at some point or another.

But trust is not exempted from the things that could be broken in this world. There are times when what we hold on suddenly falters or cracks. The shards draw blood, and there’s pain, and it gets hard to grip. Why did it crack? Why did it fail? What did we do differently that triggered it to hurt us? Then we realize we’re stuck in one of those crucial moments when we have to choose whether to hold on or let go. If we choose to let go, we may realize that the loss of something so dearly trusted could hurt like hell. If we choose to hold on, we may realize that the bleeding won’t let up anytime soon, and that it could also hurt like hell. So, which hell will it be? Funny how, either way you choose, you get hurt. Let’s just call it a necessary sacrifice to find the lesser evil. Yep. Sacrifice. It sounds heavy, but usually it just means giving up a few comforts in order to get your life back on track.

Anyway…so we learn to sacrifice. Say, we sacrifice to hold on. We sacrifice several jolts of pain, some bruises, a scar or two, and a good deal of emotional turbulence to retrieve pieces of that thing that we choose to trust again, despite the crack.

As it goes, sacrifice is wholeheartedly given. You don’t put a price on it. You just give, and pray that what you have re-gambled will be valued again, as much, if not more than before. If not, oh well. If it will be, then wonderful. Either way, no regrets.

Everything does happen for a reason, but reasons are both sought and waited for. In life, we need to feel our way through. We need to learn sensitivity to what needs to be said or done, to make things better for ourselves and for others. We learn when to wait, when to fight, and when to sacrifice for the things we want. We begin to see that all the things we desire to keep need to be deserved. They need to be valued. We're all constantly on a proving ground.

Yes. Everything has a reason, and we need to step up in order to find those reasons, or we need to be open in order for those reasons to find us.

Any way you look at it, it's a path of growth--whether you go backward, freeze in place, or move forward is your own call.

No Title

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Sun, 22 Apr 2007 22:36:00 +0000

everyone knows pain.

you can't be the only one NOT okay when everyone else managed to take it.

Pasasalamat sa Matalik na Kaibigan

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Fri, 20 Apr 2007 04:50:00 +0000

it's almost frustrating, wondering what to do that would capture just how much you mean it when you say, thank you very much.

-----

for ephy

-----

angel
flightless, you glow in my head
a smiling certainty
a permanent embrace
how...?
--warmth
why...?
--a smile
and i needed nothing more
and i cradled you in my head
where, flightless, you glow brightly

--- written 9 April 2007

A Kiss and Kick Thing

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Fri, 20 Apr 2007 02:17:00 +0000

Two nights ago, I was typing a blog entry when I noticed that my dad was looking at my monitor from the next PC. Because I've always been somewhat resistant to comments made on anything that I haven't finished yet, I quickly minimized the window.

My dad smiled. "You've become secretive," he commented.

"No," I said. "I've never been comfortable having my stuff read before I finish or publish them."

"I can give you inputs." It was half a tease.

I didn't answer.

My dad sighed and half-smiled. "You've grown," he said.

Grown.

I remembered his last birthday greeting to me then, his greeting on the first birthday that I spent away from home:

M HAPPY UV GROWN AND N PAIN THAT UR FINGERS SLIPPD FAR FRM MY HAND.

Yup. Literally, I've gone a long way from home--two hours away, by plane--and, yes, I know that after two semesters in UPD, I've grown. I've met new people, learned new things, encountered new problems. I've lived up to challenges, faced responsibilities. I've managed to pay the emotional price of being entrusted with more independence. I've learned that it's hard, and, more importantly, I've learned that I can pull through it. I know I've made my family proud.

But there are these moments when you suddenly realize that, in order to embrace new things, you've had to let go of some of the old. It's something beautiful and heartbreaking...and unavoidable. The pain is not anyone's fault, but it's there, a difficult and wonderful pain that you can neither blame nor appreciate for being there. It's like a kick and kiss thing. Exciting and hurtful. Bittersweet.

Fortunately, people have this amazing capacity to accept that things change. They can understand that things grow and things pass. So they find ways to cope. They step up to the changes. They accept, and bargain for a place in memory. They grow and change, because many of the things in life grow and change. They love, so that they can keep and be kept, even if old habits and routines fall behind.

That night, I didn't finish the entry I was writing. The mood simply wasn't there anymore. Whatever I had to vent suddenly seemed insignificant. So I shut the windows without saving anything, and, before tucking myself into bed, I made sure to tell my dad I love him.

Thoughts + Free Time + MSPaint

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Thu, 19 Apr 2007 07:26:00 +0000

SGD. LJRSonido 04.19.2007

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Haha. Hooray.

Just Pissing Myself Off One More Time

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Thu, 19 Apr 2007 01:21:00 +0000

I've been difficult these past few days. Moody. Erratic. Unreasonable. A pain.

I know so.

I wish I could blame it on PMS but I can't; I'm already entertaining my monthly visitor, so it can't qualify as "pre". There were times when I simply got pissed because I was lonely and bored, but thanks to Globe Unlimited Texting, and my best friend's company and workout tips, they don't qualify as excuses anymore. I can't say I have no hangups at all because I do, but I can't say that they can be my excuse for being a thorn stuck in my friends' feet for the past few days either. So, basically, the core problem this whole time has been me. Whoopee.

Anyway, I'll say this so you'll have something to slap to my face when I get started again--I have to quit it. I'm not promising I'll never have moods again for the rest of my life, but I can help making it an everyday thing. My family and friends have put up with me long enough, and God knows I hate having people adjust to me all the time.

So.

I'm sorry.

I'll make up for it.

And thank you very much.

Commentary on Wowowee

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Tue, 17 Apr 2007 06:18:00 +0000

variety shows. tss.

-----

they came to the gates
pleading for imprisonment
for the mercy of chance
for the cruelty of luck
for the prize of being priced
their minds priced
their smiles priced
their voices priced
so wonderfully priced
and upon purchase,
they found
victory

--- written 10 April 2007

Some Thoughts from Mr. A - Z

noreply@blogger.com (louj.) — Tue, 17 Apr 2007 05:42:00 +0000

worth every byte it takes up in your PC.
worth every second it takes to finish the song.
worth the strain to hear every word.

-----

Song: Life is Wonderful
Artist: Jason Mraz

VERSE 1

It takes a crane to build a crane
It takes two floors to make a story
It takes an egg to make a hen
It takes a hen to make an egg
There is no end to what I'm saying

It takes a thought to make a word
And it takes some word to make an action
And It takes some work to make it work
It takes some good to make it hurt
It takes some bad for satisfaction

CHORUS 1

La la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la la la life goes full circle
Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful
Al la la la la ...

VERSE 2

It takes a night to make it dawn
And it takes a day to make you yawn brother
It takes some old to make you young
It takes some cold to know the sun
It takes the one to have the other

And it takes no time to fall in love
But it takes you years to know what love is
And it takes some fears to make you trust
It takes those tears to make it rust
It takes the dust to have it polished

CHORUS 2

Ha la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la la la life goes full circle
Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la la la life is so...

VERSE 3

It takes some silence to make sound
And it takes a loss before you found it
And it takes a road to go nowhere
It takes a toll to make you care
It takes a hole to make a mountain

CHORUS 3

Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la la la life goes full circle
Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la la la love is meaningful
Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la la la...

It is so wonderful
It is so meaningful
It goes full circle
Wonderful, meaningful
Full circle, wonderful...