Arriving Somewhere But Not Here

the following should be read as one ongoing text. leave the quotations out, they are only there to clarify matters.

what you were taught, everything you experienced as a child was wrong, perverted. it has twisted your soul. it destroys you. but you don’t know anything other than that so you keep on going along that way. ("Drinking down the poison the way you were taught")

but you rush blindly forward, without knowing you way, without knowing where you are headed, without stopping to see where you are now. ("Never stop the car on a drive in the dark")

you have already wanted to change your ways, one time or another. wanted to free yourself, live your own life, make a stand. ("Ever thought from here on in your life begins")

which means that you would have to reconsider everything you previously were positive about. ("And all you knew was wrong?")

yet nevertheless you keep doing the same mistakes over and over again. ("Ever had the feeling you've been here before?")

did you ever become aware of the fact, that you block out your thoughts and emotions by a sort of background noise in your head, that you manage to keep constantly swelling in order to maintain thoughtlessness? (“rain upon a river rushing through your ears”)

did you ever admit to yourself that your anger, your rage prohibits you from ever achieving anything? (“Did you see the red mist block your path?”)

and you always imagined you death as a violent one. possibly with the intent to end your life with you own hands, in order to be able to arrange it to your liking: going with a bang or a crash, something big, something nasty. definitely not silently fading away. (“Did you imagine the final sound as a gun? Or the smashing windscreen of a car?”)

has it never occurred to you that there is nothing horrible about going peacefully, perhaps even in a bed, with a song in your ears. what’s eating you? (“Did you ever imagine the last thing you'd hear as you're fading out was a song?”)

did you begrudge those buggers the good caring mother you never had? did the pain of this realization claw into your soul? did it sting like needles? (“Did you feel the envy for the sons of mothers tearing you apart?”)

did it cut like scissors? but you never let yourself feel the pain, did you? you’d rather build a wall around your heart and run away like hell. (“Did the scissors cut a way to your heart?”)

run away from the knowledge that your mother never cared about you. the memory of her cold eyes uninterestedly glancing at you is buried deep inside you. (“Never look for the truth in your mother's eyes”)

and that’s why you keep on running. running from your memories, running from yourself as far as possible. but you take yourself with you. so you can never stop or the memories will overtake you. and you keep reassuring yourself, that you will be ARRIVING SOMEWHERE somewhen. yes, you definitely will. BUT NOT now, not HERE...