So I did strive for wholeness; in the form I took as broken pieces. The error of my ways is to fall into a pattern of allowing the company of nearly anyone who offers some attention.
Distractions disguised as ambition. I have been on a mission; multiple strategies that took form of a treatment plan (I shudder at the word), complete with goals and objectives. But, now I've lost my sense of purpose.
When you realize that your needs are so great they extend beyond your ability to harness, and bring them under submission; what is left to do, but relinquish hope...
Now...all I have left is this mess and a constant feeling of overwhelming.
Am I only surviving still? Am I merely in constant waiting for something that is in all reality a nothing?
Life. Ah what is it...a stimulation to the senses. A struggle to keep one's head somewhat clear from the pressings of thoughts that distort the experience.
I cried a time or two; perhaps more....I wanted to be free of the strife and distressing nagging of a soul trapped with a heart in the body confined by the mind.
LIBERATION! Oh sweet peace.
Only when I offer my being; all of the deepest parts of who I am, in an expression we call worship, to the God who was a man; am I somewhere near to freedom and this the truest form of art. We were made by a creator and we have the urge to create. This is also art.
Let me be yours.
Distractions disguised as ambition. I have been on a mission; multiple strategies that took form of a treatment plan (I shudder at the word), complete with goals and objectives. But, now I've lost my sense of purpose.
When you realize that your needs are so great they extend beyond your ability to harness, and bring them under submission; what is left to do, but relinquish hope...
Now...all I have left is this mess and a constant feeling of overwhelming.
Am I only surviving still? Am I merely in constant waiting for something that is in all reality a nothing?
Life. Ah what is it...a stimulation to the senses. A struggle to keep one's head somewhat clear from the pressings of thoughts that distort the experience.
I cried a time or two; perhaps more....I wanted to be free of the strife and distressing nagging of a soul trapped with a heart in the body confined by the mind.
LIBERATION! Oh sweet peace.
Only when I offer my being; all of the deepest parts of who I am, in an expression we call worship, to the God who was a man; am I somewhere near to freedom and this the truest form of art. We were made by a creator and we have the urge to create. This is also art.
Let me be yours.