Sound Waves: Idioteque, Radiohead
For the time being, I'm stuck having to plug my conscious away from the
wary eyes and sounds of content people.
Time goes so slowly.
But it never changes.
I know I'm missing whatever is out there, beyond the sea of sound waves and
Dysfunctional family trills of chaos and disorder.
I cannot take action with those kind of motivations.
For a while, it was nice, not to be warmed from the constant worries
And pressured faiths bestowed upon me.
I feel like a king with too much time in his hands
But with just enough of that time not to count his blessings.
The discord of silent remarks make its way, making no mistake
Of making myself a fool of who I really am.
This is me.
No it isn't.
Why ask myself the same rhetorical simplicities, when I don't know how to put it
In proper, acceptable honorifics?
"When are you ever going to try?
When DID you see me try?"
For a while now, even I haven't figured that piece of architecture yet.
Can't I try applying such cosmetics
and try to go around without anyone else knowing
what kind of mask I wear underneath the emotion?
"We only want what's best.
But you must try for once."
I keep the doubt in like a bottle, not ready to set sail
In a sea of blind justice.
I haven't yet known how to completely open
These dusty-filled eyes
To who I really am.