Monday, March 25, 2013

1-Up



It's all a game, isn't it... this life we have.
Waking up, running until we drop; taking a moment here and there, wondering how we got this old;
How this became the life we have.

Not that it's a bad life.
It's not.
But repetition can agitated even the quietest souls.

I look out the window and see this big old world,
And my heart is still so very young and I want, and I want, and I want,
All the dreams I've always wanted.

Let it begin - my mind screams,
Let it all begin, and let the world swirl around my feet,
Lifting my hair, a tornado above my head - a human bullet.

But my feet are firmly planted,
And I keep moving forward, following this stream I chose a while back,
Hoping it is the right one, knowing I should doubt myself less.

Seriously, it's annoying.
The doubting doubters and the negative thought process.
There's a band name for you.

Life keeps coming, and moving, and passing by;
And I watch people fade into memory.
Time almost forgotten, save for a few laughs that look more like a movie clip, than my past.

So, this is this life.
The world I now live.
Knowing, it will also pass by, pushing me to the next level of the game.

Life, with it's beauty and disease - hopes and fears.
Life, with it's music and it's words.
Life - and we dance.

Around the stagnation;
Past, and over the potholes;
Under everything else, as we play, and play, and play some more.

Frustration lost in the lyrical movements of time.
Time, that eases the fingers of doubt free.
Freedom that brings the perspective we need to get past ourselves.

We set the traps subconsciously.
Shuffle, ball, change.
Hoping we won't trip, and if we do, that we will get back up and keep going.

Because that's what is all is, what it means, what we need to do -
Keep moving
Because death isn't when we die - we die when we stop playing.

Leaving us to sit in perdition,
With a goose egg, when all we really ever wanted,
Was 1-up.




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