"And after all this time that you still owe, you're still a good-for-nothing-I-don't-know."
My Chemical Romance
~
I learned that Art is an explosion.
"These are the nights and the lights that we've faded. These are the words but the words aren't coming out."
My head is burning. And I'm not sure what this headache is trying to tell me. I know that something's wrong. I know that I'm way off the right frequency. But I know what I'm doing. Or at least I know that I'm pretending to know what I'm doing.
His neural pathways were beset with rain. And the drainage system he referred to as 'diagonal creativity' was severely broken. It's interesting how all broken things smell the same. Perhaps fictional tears can claw their way through those clogged holes that were meant to let the light inside. But no, it's still pretty dark in here.
"And when we go don't blame us, we'll let the fire just bathe us."
I feel like I'm that child who never finds a good place to hide, maybe because he's so desperate to be found. The only problem is that I can't recognize any of these kids with whom I'm playing, probably because we all have the same face. I was never the explorer, you know. Back then I used to stick to a certain routine so I don't run into the hell I was trying to forget. And now, I usually go for disappearing in the illusory smoke screen of metaphors made of tree leaves and moonlit ocean waves. But my mind won't have it. I wonder why. I'm supposed to be really good at hiding. It's rather funny though, how the two main games I played as a kid were centered around hiding, running away and in ultimately getting caught or found.
"Give me a shot to remember and you can take all the pain away from me."
There are no rays through this door. My body is waking up the morning and staying out late. But somehow it feels as though I'm still there. I'm still in my beautifully messy dark room, buried in the comfort of my bed, my eyes glued to that same old laptop screen reflecting my unholy spirit - dusty, dim and impenetrable.
It was beautiful. It was perfect. But, now, the idea of it is just too overwhelming to fathom. So allow me to hide behind the scenes. Allow me to fade in the vagueness of that mist beneath past and distant pain. Allow me to revert to that forgotten inner child who broke all his crayons because he thought colors were life's biggest lie.
"Cause I see you lying next to me, with words I thought I'd never speak, awake and unafraid, asleep or dead."
This symphony is a pendulum. And it's going down swinging, for real. And all the martyrs of the world, they presuppose that the cosmos is singing their song - and some of them, I guess, got it partially right. As for all those warriors who desperately seek immortality - though they don't even have the power to catch a single moment - they don't really get it yet. Maybe they never will. Then come the players, stuck in a silent theater whose audience is a bunch of shapeshifting mirrors, whose closing-curtain-soundtrack is that noise dying people make when they meet face-to-face with terminal regret. And finally, there are the lovers, the humble artists who can breathe in faith and breathe out kindness and who, in between, can be the instruments of the grand design - the divine symphony. But yeah, all these circles intersect. So good luck in finding yourself. And good luck with all those demons. If you need anything, I'll be in my room.
"Never fade in the dark. Just remember you will always burn as bright. The light behind your eyes."
Dear myocardial explosions, kindly turn down the volume.
~
"Do or die, you'll never make me
Because the world will never take my heart
Go and try, you'll never break me
We want it all, we wanna play this part
I won't explain or say I'm sorry
I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scar
Give a cheer for all the broken
Listen here, because it's who we are."
My Chemical Romance