My room
by TBH on January 06, 2008Oh, how I long to become something beautiful. When will the day come? or will it be like that song goes, "It'll be a day like this one when the world caves in".... maybe It wont happen all at once. Maybe Its happening. Maybe were all works of art. Being painted. Waiting to become something beautiful. I wonder when the day will come when I will be finished. When I can hang proudly in the gallery, beautiful. The day when eyes fall upon my frame and thoughts scramble to gather what should be made of me. Thoughts gather in line and become clear. Beautiful images form in the minds of others from a masterpiece which itself is not beautiful as such.
My rooms painted white. Its been that way ever since I can remember. Its never been painted over so theres nips and scratches everywhere. Phone numbers and words on whiteout cover them. Memories of my past. Theres my bed, where I rearange the rest. Ive got my computer. Ever see the science of sleep? go see it, youll get what my comp is. Its like his room. But his was beautiful underneath it all. Maybe mine is too. Maybe underneath all the mess it is. But it wont be for some while. Theres a big mess and Im not motivated enough to clean it all up right now. Maybe life would be so kind as to find someone to motivate me. Then I could... I can. whats stopping me? Ive never come to a halt in this way. I dont understand. I never let myself stop, why now, why for this.
All I could ever wish for is to become something beautiful.
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