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SOMEHOW
04.03.09 (5:21 am)   [edit]
I finally took a short break from work, after toiling for more than ten years on what I believed to be my survival kit to life, and actually watched Roy's eight 8 one. Not bad, moved me quite a bit on a subject matter that captured me since young. Story, music and visuals were rich, except for an audience like me that lacked the true audience colors.

Then I remembered ken's our last day. There seemed a bit lacking in one critical factor. But I think ken fared better.

Then I deduced. It only takes one percent more luck between success and failure. All I could do was watch in awe how the world continues to spin, while I'm stuck like a wedge between the edge of the door and the floor.

Perhaps it sounds a little like self-reproach or a simple lament. But even the lock sometimes need the right key to open it up.

Song of the night, k's reflections. Something written in such sweet words, yet beyond the pain that carries it in a swift action of the sweeping wind of forgottence.

cn is right. I've done much, but the second half belonged to me - yet achieved too little. While the faeries twirl their shining wands in circles of time, I spin endlessly lost in a world now I not know.

Perhaps someone said this to me before, or maybe not. Futile.

Somehow, these things made me realise one simple theory: benevolence sits by the window watching the world go by, as I walk by in uber silence. I'm neither here nor there. Not where they wanted me, nor where I wanted me be. The bullet can be removed, and the gunshot wound can heal. But, who's to say the day will shine or the rain will start?

Curtain calls.
 


posted by: (reply)
post date: 04.03.09 (8:16 pm)

I can totally identify with the experience of people talking in cinemas... heh...

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