Sheep happens.

Monday, July 07, 2008

Home?

Home- Switchfoot

It's a long way from Miami to LA
It's a longer way from yesterday
To where I am today

It's a long way from my thoughts
To what I'll say
It's a long, long way from paradise
To where I am today

All that's in my head
Is in Your hands

It's a long way from
The moon up to the sun
It's a longer road ahead of me
The road that I've begun

Stop to think of all the
Time I've lost
Start to think of all the
Bridges that I've burned
That must be crossed

Over, over, over
Take me over

I've been poison
I've been rain
I've been fooled again

I've seen ashes
Shine like chrome
Someday I'll see home

Home, home

I can see the stars
From way down here
But I can't fall asleep
Behind the wheel

It's a long way from the
Shadows in my cave
Up to Your reality to
Watch the sunlight taking over

Over, over, over
Take me over

I've been poison
I've been rain
I've been fooled again

I've seen ashes
Shine like chrome
Someday I'll see home

Home, home

----------------------------------------------------

As much as I hate to, I think I'm falling again. It really is such a mystery, how a mere combination of characters projected on a computer screen can cause a human being to experience complex emotions.

Sometimes the outcome matters, sometimes it doesn't. When the outcome matters so much to you, but it seems like everything you've been working for has fallen apart, what do you do? The problem is, I can't do anything to salvage it, save praying. I'd been praying. Prayer is a powerful tool, yes it is. I want to be okay, just like anybody else, but you're not helping at all. It's as if you've put on a mask every single time I see you, and I'm supposed to pretend that everything's alright. I did that, yeah, but it just makes me feel worse. Maybe I'm the one with the mask. Maybe I was never meant to express myself. All I ever experience nowadays is people putting me down, either that or apathy. They were right. Who gives a shit about me anyway.

It blows when I fail to live up to expectations. It blows when my expectations can't go any lower. It blows when you feel like you're in a different world. It blows when you feel like a freakin' alien in a place you're supposed to call home. Forgive me for being so myopic, but I really feel like I can't hang on.

What is home?

Is it a place? Is it a group of people? Is it a refuge? Is it comfort? Is it warmth? Is it communication? Is it love? Is it looking out for each other? Is it a thought?

Or is it just a figment of my imagination?..