Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Thieves

I saw the stars burning outside
Tell me, is there a guiding light?
If so, it don't burn bright

Lately I have wandered about
Is the truth nowhere to be found,
Or is it just hiding out?

Oh, as robbers go
I haven't managed to steal much
Oh, as cowards go
I cannot seem to give this up


I heard the knocking at my door
You were ready for something more
But what's the point in keeping score?

I was wrestling with my fears
But your hands they drew me near
Now I just feel trapped here

Oh, as robbers go
I haven't managed to steal much
Oh, as cowards go
I cannot seem to give this up


Turn your cold shoulder this way
I know you know what to say
It's so easy to break my heart, it's great
No really it is ok
From the start of this day
I knew the end of this page was always missing

Oh, as robbers go
I haven't managed to steal much
Oh, as cowards go
I cannot seem to give this up
Oh, you thieves, you know
I haven't managed to steal much
Oh, as we all know
There's never been a chance for us

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Not A Typical Post, But...

Read this sentence several times:

FINISHED FILES ARE THE RESULT
OF YEARS OF SCIENTIFIC STUDY
COMBINED WITH THE
EXPERIENCE OF YEARS.

Make sure you have read it several times before continuing.

Now count the number of F's in that sentence. Count them ONLY ONCE.
Do not go back and count them again. Then see below:
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
There are six F's in the sentence. The majority of people only count three of them. Most people forget the Fs in the word OF. The human brain tends to see them as Vs instead of F's because of how they sound.

This test was in one of my textbooks. I only counted 3 and I thought it was insane and interesting so I thought I'd share the experience with you!

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Pinned (Or Something About Change)

I wish I lived somewhere
With the looming glory of mountains
Or the soothing sound of oceans
Or the dazzling white of snow
Or the endless rows of one-hundred-stories
Or the stones of ancient settlements
Or the rushing roar of rivers
Or the night streets
(filled with people
walking, and laughing
and living...
Oh to truly live!
To not be sucked into the day to day
Mediocrity
by obligation
or comfort, or perhaps just the blindness: inexperience
of something better
something inspiring
something beautiful and passionate and real)
Or the quiet of a little cabin
Or the cold chill of the night air
Or the warmth of a little flame
Or the light of fiery orange
Or the sinking-into-your-chair softness of a good book
Or the corner of the eye vision of you
Or the happiness of love

Thursday, September 3, 2009

We Were Built On Legs

It's not that you have gone away
An ocean in this wave
A book inside this page

It's not like we have torn apart
some priceless work of art
It's merely an expression of
Our endless apathy

Don't mind me
I am drowning in this noise
But I have lost my voice
It never was my choice

To be here, (eyes upon) paper trails of white
That dazzle in the light
And I cannot begin to summon
The strength to raise my hands
and wave
and wait

I don't know what I will say to you
But it's a pretty safe bet
That I won't follow through
I don't know what I will take from you
I guess the better question is
"What's left to lose?"


It's not that I didn't get the chance
To fall in with the rest
And struggle with my head

It's not that we ever traveled far
But staying close is hard
When lines are built with faulty wiring
Twisted, Mangled, Scarred

I don't know what I will say to you
But it's a pretty safe bet
That I won't follow through
I don't know what I will take from you
I guess the better question is
"What's left to lose?"


It's not that you have gone away
A body built on legs
A world upon a stage

It's not like we have torn apart
These resilient hearts
This is just a minor setback
We will both survive