Your Vanity

Be ye happy, if ye may, 
In the years that pass away.
Ye shall pass and be forgot, And your place that you got
Other generations rise,
With the same hope in their eyes
That in yours is kindled now, and the same light on their brow.
They shall see the selfsame sun
That your eyes now gaze upon,
They shall breathe the same sweet air,
And shall reck not who ye were.
Yet they too shall fade at last, In the twilight of the past
They and you alike shall be, lost from the world's memory.
Then, while yet ye breathe and live,  
Drink the cup that life can give.
Be ye happy, if ye may,
In the years that pass away,
Ere the golden bowl be broken,
Ere ye pass and leave no token,
Ere the silver cord be loosed,
Ere ye turn again to dust.
And shall this be all,' ye cry,
But to eat and drink and die?
If no more than this there be, Vanity of vanity!'
Yea, all things are vanity, And what else but vain are ye?
Ye who boast yourselves the kings, Over all created things.
Kings! whence came your right to reign?
Money, power, is that how you think
Yet for this, your one brief hour,
Wield your mockery of power.
Be ye happy, if ye may,
In the years that pass away. 

Vanity

Don't afraid miss' Shirley, i don't feel the pain

your words about my vanity can hardly hurt me now

you are still here, that was all i need to know

and you will keep me save

and you will keep me closed 

and rain, makes the flower grows

i can heal my wounds, with words of love

Just hold me kindly, and let it be

Shelter me, comfort me

you washed all my past, and you kept me save, and you kept me closed

i slept in your mind at least what a wonderful place

i breath away from the place you are, Now sky start to be clean at last

So, don't afraid miss' i don't feel the pain .. you here,  you have the sixth sense, that was all i need to know,

So, i rise the clarity flag, no vanity anymore.

Bribing the Nurse, Angle of death

2/29/2012, 11:03AM
Now i'm grateful by name and actions
to all the stuff, starting from my Doctors and ending with all angels, hiding myself again under the bed blanket otherwise it's still rain
Be happy that i have another day, To enjoy all your treasures and say,
"Thank You" to an Almighty who loves me so
That despite my frailties. I must know, my salvation is His concern…
So thank God with my actions in return.
Only then will eternal life
Ensure my happiness from earthly strife.
O my God, all patients have them angels of mercy, why i have this angel of death,
now i'll pretend asleep, just to let her disappear ..
Everyday one more chance appears, to enjoy life flower
nectar's, Sun beams are so far from bright, 
While everything seems so right.
.. I really start to be angry, Why she's keeping shout on my face, i thought later i can complete

When Spring Come.!!

Some people go looking for happiness. 
Some prefer power or beauty wealth and fame. 
Some crave intensity.
Some seek peace.
Some search for food and shelter. 
Some want to die with a good name. 
Everybody takes their lead from the way they came.
And everyone says they're looking for love though no one knows what it looks like.
They try to fit their thoughts to their words like skin they can touch that doesn't scar like the moon or shed like a petal too delicate for the senses but most just end up trying to mummify the mind stream .. by laying thousands of years of star maps down on troubled waters like autumn leaves, that don't know where they're going.
Eventually everything's swept away in the undertow of a dark ocean, that only smells sweet from a distance.
And longing shifts like infra-red into the blackness.
And bones on the moon are the only signs, nobody landed on Moon that life once perished here.
Orphic skulls whose jaws dropped like gates before their own gaping prophecies.
Time flows like a non-existent future into us and it fills us with a hunger
for everything we've lost or feel somehow was always missing.
One of the cardinal features of the emptiness we are conceived again and again out of is there's nothing behind its face you can fix like an identity to space.
For fourteen billion years the universe has been nothing but one long beginning must have an end, making everything up as it goes along out of nothing
like a man whistling down a long road .. far from home, late at night .. to let anything that might be listening in the darkness. know he's there so nothing can take him by surprise.
And every step he takes. he steps across a threshold like a star
just coming into being, whose light goes off in all directions looking for blind water it can turn into eyes.
Bosons hadrons leptons neutrinos wimps and quarks the deeper you look into the matter; the more you realize out to the furthest galaxy and beyond .. seeing is being and being is all fireflies.
And every one of them is true north of nowhere.
Some people follow their own beginnings like laws into the future, hoping to become someone else that doesn't recognize them anymore for who they were.
The peduncle's lost in the ensuing phylum.
Not because their future's rich but their past is always poor.
The planet doesn't spin on its axis for them.
It's hinged like a door that only opens one way though God face, that begins them like last year.
But the leaves of autumn aren't the laundered money of spring, because if our fulfilment weren't already behind us, we wouldn't be here trying to true the last to the first, of an unfinished multiverse like the best to the worst as if red were the past of blue.
Stop thinking birth is the past of death or spring is the future of winter as if they weren't the same breath and one breath of life weren't enough to keep the fireflies glowing in your ashes for eternity and everywhere you look you will flower like a vine; that divines its way to the wine by ripening the grapes of gratitude.
You will understand, for all that you have grasped and brought to fruition
I most exalted aspiration, is a heap of dead branches in the spring
burning like leaves of fire. still reaching out for the sun and you will hear the mind-mirror whisper to itself.
like the wind on far off waters
Narcissus is drowning in his own reflection like the flashback of a life he left unlived but everything is immersed in me .. like a mind
like a sea in a fish that ran aground on the uncharted land falls of its own teaching.
And the wine will flower in your mouth like a grail that's given up preaching
and finally found its own voice like a bird returning to a tree at nightfall to call out in its solitude, to the stars as they appear
we are here we are here we are here, where we belong at peace with everything we're missing
everything we long for
everything we are and are becoming
that overtakes us like music from within transforming ..
the silence into song
the water into wine
small beings into a big space
looking into the passing face of everything's that's mortal about us
with our eyes fixed upon the divine not to see it in any one place but with the presence of mind. to be wholly and impurely not that not this, without anywhere a trace of ultimacy in this world that we take for a sign, we are here we are here we are here and things are as they are not as they must be.
Nothing got here legally.
What's the expanding universe if not a refugee in its own country, somehow exiled from itself for reasons only it can express?
Citizen Universe
She should show me,
show me her true papers, her paintings
show me how we should dance on our own first Symphony
show me how i put our children to sleep
show me what her weep for, what her delight in, what her esteem, what her despise, what her ignore, what darkness of her, feeds that inferno of stars above her, burning its constellations like passports, that aren't going anywhere, show me the black mirror, that says you don't belong here, like some misplaced night of the full moon, not marked on any calendar
show me the law of being human in her life, that says this little poor thing, has one and this little poor thing, has none
show me where it's written; the guest shall turn strangers away from his host's generosity like a dog at the door that bares its teeth at the table
show me the home-made honey of her wisdom
show me the dead lamps, of the apocalyptic fireflies, that designed your chaotic cosmology by plagiarizing the light to prove the stars don't reserve a space in the universe, for any insight of her. Nothing got here legally.
No one followed a coyote or a law to cross the border into this insurgency of being. No one checked the colour of your eyes or profiled the light to see if they were fit for seeing.
You don't need a constitution to verify your liberty.
Well before you were born you were free and ever shall be to belong here as we all do.. to pursue what makes us
sad mad bad or happy
the way we all got here
the way we all get through
the way we're all alone here together with one another as we are with you,
as we are with her and him and me,
as we are with everything,
as we are with ourselves
when we don't know who we're becoming
when we don't know the stranger on the bridge watching the water flow that's waiting to greet us on the other side in the only way the unblighted heart of reality
we're all looking for like blood on a grail-quest for our humanity, accepts the darkness that seeks us out like a miraculous elixir of insight
so the kingdom won't fail
so the garden doesn't ask us for a green card to know and grow
in the only way we truly belong here
in the only way we know how to be
so the lifeboat we're all in .. like the same boundless mind, is always as full
as it is empty, so no one gets left out at sea
like a wave that couldn't be saved and no one gets in who doesn't know how to swim, the way we all got here .. and continue to be
all these thresholds of the sea that steps across us even as we move like waves
breaking discipline with our own continuum creatively.
Just to be there,
Just to crawl up on the shore of a new medium, like a refugee planting flowers
we brought from home hoping we'll still be there to watch them bloom.
i also accept the challange, but not to win or lose, in love both of the gamer will win, finally but not the End, i even do not know if the spring bloom attention was mine.
i'll never give up, even i can try until the last breath in my chest.




Hosp.. 3:00AM, under the bed blanket 

Bribing the nurse .. little pain

New Note 22
date, 2/28/2012 ... time, 20:58
After bribing the nurse with a box of chocolates, Just to bring my pc To the intensive care room where I'm lay down
A white bed, half dead and half wishing to heal from what i feel,
No one knew where I'm but my closed friends,
hiding the tears from me, while i saw them fall
encourage me to fight, my disappointed soul
That made my mind slide in a big hole
If everything happened to a reason, which one was that for.
Patients howling through the night,
Holding the bed pillow too tight,
I'm not afraid from death, it's just the chaos
here she is coming again, to tell me What i'll gain
in fact, outside it's rain, but inside .. too much pain
now i'm a case number 247, what's a ridiculous
Anyway i need to pray, i need to find determination way
Each one thought, money can bought anything
but, let me note,
Money can buying everything, but extra time to live, it's not.
i'm just grateful to whom, let me knew that;
the most three precious words in any language is,
"things always Changes"
Oh God, as much as you feel my pain, i really miss her deeply more.

Expanding universe

Out of so much experience 
so little to signify it
in a language 
extraterrestrial life could understand
about our relationship with gravity 
and what's crudely human about being a human
we don't even have in common with ourselves. 
Out of so much sorrow 
so many tears shed 
like oceans of wounded salt 
like bruised orchids of blood 
like the light years between windows 
living next door to each other 
there is so much vastness between us 
in an expanding universe 
in the way we reach out to each other 
like the stars in wavelengths of farewell
toward the red end of the spectrum. 
Out of so much radiance 
so much shining 
not even the ash of anything 
to show for it 
when the last ghost has left town
with leaving so much 
as a love letter of smoke 
propped up against the mirror.
Out of so much that was seen once only for good 
and for a moment understood 
until we started thinking about it 
my eyes taste of what they've seen 
like iron apples ripening in the rain 
no one can take a bite out of 
to improve their education
by learning how to bury the dead 
because most of what I've seen 
is pain without insight 
pain without eyes 
like impact craters in the skull of the moon.
A war of windows in a world without vision
without stars 
without dawn and moonrise.
Viral eyes that abhor stained-glass 
as much as they do the godless clarity
of the most advanced telescopes
playing Egyptian roulette with the stars
to prove the Big Bang was cosmic suicide
and we're here like living proof of the afterlife 
of its bad karma
like a hunting religion in an agrarian society. 
Out of so much mystic specificity 
so little sense of earthly union 
in the fractious sameness 
that tries to blame everyone else 
for why things are falling apart 
as fast as they're coming together. 
Five petals open. 
And no flower blooms.
The sun rides a victory chariot through desert.
The moon a death cart through a slum. 
But the stars know
how much the night keeps to itself.
How much it can't say
when the silence clears the sky of birds. 
How much there is to express 
that leaves even the dead speechless. 
Out of so much verbiage 
so many words
so many opinions
stuck like bats in burrs 
just beyond the porch light.
Out of so much hatred of life 
out of so much hatred 
of light and water 
air earth and fire
compressed like a fist of coal 
around the blood diamonds of the ideologues
who write political suicide notes 
for whole nations by proxy 
who don't know how to bleed for themselves
or convince the dead 
they died for someone else. 
Out of so many words 
so many civilizations 
from the Tower of Babel 
to the New York Metropolitan 
with your narrow thinking that I am ignorant Egyptian
with its polyglot fire alarms 
warning Alexander 
about the approach of Caesar
and his love to have you as his own queen
Out of so many voices 
that spoke like trees in the wind 
or out of burning bushes
and the light of the stars
or the thunder that follows the revelation
that it's raining on a lifeless Mars.
Out of so much clamour and noise of insight. 
Out of so many whispers of stars 
and rumours of waves 
held up to both our shell-shocked ears 
that found us washed up on a beach somewhere 
after some serious weather.
Out of so many poems and paintings and heartfelt polygraphs.
Out of so much confessing. 
Out of so many speeches.
So many prayers and blessings
So many dead languages that carried their mother-tongue 
like mitochondria in the DNA of their mouths
down through the generations 
so that every living word 
contains the corpse of a metaphor
like a mummy under a pyramid 
or Nbms king catching his breath
to be interviewed
about a life after death 
that looked exactly like his
when he woke up to this all over again
with nothing much to say about anything. 
Out of so many with so much to say 
how few are listening 
as if their lies depended on it.


"In the recovery room, 6 hour's before making my third lung surgery"
I said "true story" but you used to hear the lies, 

Things ... lost in water

No distance ever separates dreams and desires
No mirror ever dissolves reflection of water In one's eye
What graph would you make of lines of thought?
The triangle of pain Is without any angle
Countless races .. Have dreams alike
But sleep and night watch, Are never the same!
Names are forgotten, Codes alone come to mind
In nuclear setups
A moment of brightness, In a light year
Breaking into smithereens
In a million eons
An accident .. yes, But not an event
History is continuity .. Broken once
Telescopic eyes, tired out, My regret telling me to give up at once , Their distance watching .. watching the lost planets
Bygone epochs, Have no interposition.
Who will look for a desert flowers, In spring fresh hands
Who will see dreams, In eyes ... yours and mine
In centuries to be?
No one is sure of things ... lost in water or raindrops !!

How far we all are

And I love it out here this far into my solitude
where the stars are as high and holy and out of reach
as they always were
and everything that is finished irrelevant or gone to waste
discovers a secret peace in its exile and desolation
that doesn't distinguish one light in the night from another
and there isn't a road you can take that was meant for someone else.
Even when the wind blows the leaves around
like things I should have said to myself years ago
like things I should have known
that don't come with a Buddha or a book
heavy with bells and the blissful fruit of wiser autumns
everything takes its place
in the spaciousness of an infinite center
the dislocated cannot exit
and even those who have found themselves
to be nothing real
cannot enter.
It's as if all things were wounded so deeply and expansively
by the wary act of their existence
the dagger of circumstance and chance
can't find a place to strike
and so there's nothing to heal
nothing to fear
nothing to watch out for
that could hurt you any worse
than everything already is.
The wind on the water that trembles like skin
and the scales and feathers of the tangerine moon rise
shedding its wings on the serpentine mind stream
that flows off into the distance like a dragon
someone forgot to believe in
because they thought they grew up.
And time doesn't ask itself what night it is
or the fish the depth of the water
and the flight plan of the hunting hawk
if it has one
is merely what catches its eye.
Parsifal the mottled fool
leaves home with the grail in his saddlebag
and it makes no difference to the kingdom
whether he finds it or not.
The first shall be last and the last shall be first
and then the grass eats the grazer who ate the grass.
There's nothing to change
that hasn't already been brought to pass
by the leftover leaves in the birch trees
that abandon their bones like old shamans
down by the banks of the river in spring
for the fish and the birds to pick clean.
The silence is moss on the skull of a rock
sprouting elegant chandeliers of columbine
that hang their heads like streetlights
over a long road with no one in sight.
So what could it possibly mean to be a stranger
among your own feelings and thoughts
when there are no gates you can stand outside of
and the enlightened beginning of the waterlily
as five petals open
and one flower blooms advaitistically
is rooted like a deep insight into a mirror that rots?
Is the coming any less endless than the going?
Or an ignorant life any less life than knowing
you can't know what you're seeking
until it finds you like someone it overlooked?
The empty heronsnests high
in the dead trees of the swamp
are full of moonlight
and everywhere I walk
frogs punctuate the sloppy grammar of the water
that unspools like one long periodic sentence that's never complete
as if the world hasn't finished saying me yet
like something it means.
My delusions rise like waterbirds from a moonlit lake
to go witching for water among the stars
and I let them knowing they're
the indirections by which we find directions out.
First you go down a lot of rivers
and then you take the road.
There's a scaffolding of dark matter
we wore on the outside like an exoskeleton
and dark energies
that exhausted themselves like slaves
so we could walk erect in our watchtowers of flesh
like the ego of a candle with a spine for a wick.
Black bones buried somewhere
that once were us.
Churches that wandered off the beaten path like gravestones.
Dark sanctities of a dead lawgiver
that entrusted the truth to a liar
as if the night had a sense of humor.
And everything is as it is without discrimination
in the eyes of the light that falls upon us
as if we didn't exist
though as far back as I can remember
my spirit has always cast its shadow upon the earth
like Venus on a moonless night
and my body laboured
like a prophet with a whale in his belly
to spread the word.
And subtlety of subtleties
wonder of wonders
my mind got a good look at what it isn't
and spontaneously learned
to be playfully creative
with the absurdity of being here
whispering into my own ear
like a wind that talks toflowers
descended from the stars
about how far we all are from home.

Run Away

It would be amazing to run away, 

To not have to worry about one more day, 

To feel the wind pushing against my skin

To feel the tears fall down my cheek, 

Not having to worry about anyone but me, 

The same old people I wouldn't have to see, 

It would be amazing to run away, 

To never come back, 

Day after day, 

True story. i challenge you !!

A young man challenged his lover; If she can lived a full day without him,
Without any means of communication ever and if she was able to do, he shall love her forever!
And his girlfriend agreed to the challenge! Not fully passed on contacts .. And for sending .. Nothing
Without knowing his girlfriend that he was left to him only 24 hours in life
He was suffering from cancer ..!
On the second day She decided to go to meet him early morning!
With an eyes filled with tears, tears of passion, tears of missing him,
She knew that he lay on a bed in the hospital
In a hurry; she went directly there
Her boyfriend was lying in a recovery room; cannot take his breaths,
But ...he has left her a paper note.
typed on it ..
YOU DID IT, BUT COULD YOU DO IT  ... FOREVER

now i challenge you, Do you accept the challenge.!!

Dare to dream

When your offspring flies the nest

You have mixed feelings when you rest.

The house is quite like a tomb

There is an empty feeling in the womb.

There are familiar stirrings inside you

Which seem to urge you to do

Things which had been put aside

While you were busy painting your feeling inside

Now out of the blue old yearnings are alive

And you feel like to strive

To work on the same

And make to me a name

It's true the only constant in life is change

You must widen your horizon and range

You may not be in your prime

But now you have the time

To work full steam

And once again dare to dream

because i remember everything.

Controlling my Anger .. how to ?

When toxic and volatile emotions
Are causing confusion and commotion, 
Feelings are hijacked, hot thoughts race, 
Mind gets enveloped in a rage.
As a consequence, visibility comes down, 
It’s wise to shift gears and slow down.
Switch on the wipers
And clear the fog on the mind’s mirror.
Lest you forever live to regret
And wonder how I met with an accident.
Take few deep breaths, and count to ten, 
As anger clouds the perception.
Your ability to discern goes haywire
So whatever you say backfires.
First deal with your inner pollution, 
To stop firing deadly ammunition.
Remove yourself from the object of your ire
Lest you shoot arrows of fire
And give in to your primitive instinct, 
Do something that your mood uplifts.
When the fog finally lifts
You’ll realise, perception does shift.
Then you’ll be glad
Things didn’t get out of hand.
Anger isn't my worst enemy,

i was only hope, in my darkness

i'll catch your hand 

A little thing about my mind

This mind has taken on its strongest quest being born to a modern world to attest. They preach and confuse through their thousand gods, leaving many choices without a guess. The humans communicate, snake tongued and righteous in this world of lies where height, black and white meaning make the difference. If you were to chance upon a view, here from space they resemble bacteria, chomping a blueberry, killing with little sense! Remarkable, they don't wipe each other out fighting wars, settling scores whilst dealing with drought. A girl told me that Saturn got her many rings from her God, 'cause she's not a single lady when gets around, without a doubt. I'll leave it in their billions of hands with their problems, numerous, and dangerous in demands. I'll poetize and paint their present state faces that are as bountiful and beautiful as the African sands warrior

Thanksgiving

Before it is too late, 
Let me affix my signature
To the declaration of gratitude
For 
All the men I’ve benefited from, 
All the women I’ve shared my love with, 
All the lines I’ve read with interest, 
All the words I’ve heard with eagerness, 
All the things I’ve seen with curiosity, 
And all the thoughts I’ve marveled at.
Before it is too late, 
Let me affix my signature
To the declaration of gratefulness
For my ancestors whose product I am, 
My progeny who made my life purposeful, 
All things which were hunted for my prey, 
All the air and water that kept me alive
And more than all that were expressed, 
For the fate to have let me live so far.

Black and White

 Black and white is not the world we live in
Run of a river is not straight to the ocean
Commitment for the cause is the conviction loose or win
Caught in the claws of fate life goes in motion
Long and winding are the roads through truth and lies
Over the terrain’s of mountains and valleys up and down
Under the watchful eyes of powers from beyond the skies
Living the moments as and when it comes wind blown
Like the lost leaves in dark finding its destined place
Some where on this earth in heart of flowing time
After its flight in time and space of blessed days
Resting in peace after the journey on waves of dream 
Different they are like the colors of flowers in garden
Blending as one before the end reaching the same milestone
Do you really want to ask what is the different between black and white !!

Angels white, ... white, white diamonds

Devils black, ... black was mine

Do your best to kill all my devils, but be sure that you start to kill, the angels of mine,

My Name is

My name is but a whisper on the wind, 
A quiet breeze that blows across your memories, and then, 
Returns to cause your mind to think of long ago, and when, 
Our love was lost in laughter, and our promises again...
My spirit is as the mist, in morning light, 
That clouds the dawn of all alone, and takes away the bright, 
That leaves you here with crying eyes, to blur and blind your sight, 
And follow you to dreams, that haunt you in the night..
My love is as it was, my vow as yet unbroken, 
And though life has passed for me, you know my heart is open, 
Our love did not unwind, unkind words were never spoken, 
Our lives are intertwined, and our hearts are interwoven...
My Lord, have the years been lost to us so long? , 
When did happiness depart, to leave us trapped in wrong, 
The wrong of losing all that we had known, where we belong, 
To wake up, to the singing of the broken hearted's song...
My name is yours and yours is mine, 
No changing of the words, said in love once so sublime, 
The years, it seems like centuries we've been apart in time, 
I love you now, as I did then, forever in my mind...
My name is ... 
You name it and never knock me out of your mind.

The peace will follow.

Lips of silk and eye's of cream, 

You are the vision in my dream.

I curse the days when we're apart, 

They're long and heavy upon my heart...

For you're so beautiful to me, oh so very beautiful to me...

The sunlight shining from your hair, 

When you're around I'm free of care.

You make me feel like the first day of spring, 

When your in my arms my heart does sing...

For you're so beautiful to me, oh so very beautiful to me...

Staring into your eyes I'm carried away, 

On the wings of love to a brighter day.

Will you meet me there to be together? 

Oh please say yes... So we can have forever...

For you're so beautiful to me, oh so very beautiful to me...

Spread the love... The peace will follow.

I Planned my own attack

I closed my eyes, My tears rolled straight to the floor, All I wanted was to feel something more, I was torn inside, That was all I felt now that she had died,

I wished I were dreaming, But all I heard was the faint sound of her screaming,
I stood at her grave, Knowing I would never see her again, I just kept feeling this terrible pain,

I will never love again, The pain is too intense, If only I had more sense, She would never have died,

I let her go to the beach that day, She drowned and turned up on the bay, I will never forgive myself, It has totally effected my health,

I have a hole in my heart that will never be replaced, The feeling I have felt, Is like torture I have faced, I can’t deal with this anymore, I’m going down to the ocean floor, I will never come back, I planned my own attack.

bullets fly

There is a vile displacement

In the hearts of sinister conquerors

Who would taunt until they

Expose everything they want

In the savage they told you you are

The brave new world is here

And like all savages I have no place in it

When the gods fall silent

No one is left to hear your bullets fly

Beyond that

The ethereal plane goes silent.
Pilot decides they are too tired to fly.
Decrease cabin pressure to decrease cabin fever.
The cousin of my cousin who is not my cousin cannot engineer a solution if not given proper tools.
Cavemen can use simple tools but are adept at clubs if you injure their hearts so let’s call a spade a spade we know diamonds are only rocks but forever is simply tomorrow repeating.
I can’t see what’s in the cards beyond that.
Even worse is to look at the present you gave worn each day.
Standing still a painful reminder.
Best to keep moving.
I'm in a precarious juxtaposition.
One move and the King is toppled but the Queen reigns in this game.
I shall grant our enemies no quarter, this game is free of charge.
The truth is the true blue you doesn't know what to do but the blue blood in you
requires more upkeep than that and you'll deny it until you're blue in the face.
That's enough blue clichés, especially when I'm seeing red.
Fell trees for the fires or gather the ones already fallen.
It doesn't matter you'll still
wear multiple layers to get through the knight in shining arm morbidity.
I keep all your sugar coated spiders sealed in jars.
I'd rather they not bite me anymore either.
Outside appearances mean little when one wears so many faces.
See you on the flip side but remember on the inside I'm dying to meet you again.
I am jumbled.
I'm mixing my metaphors and feelings in the same reactor.
They promised adult supervision but I can't see clearly without honesty glasses.
I'm like a deer caught in the dread lights.
I'm under cardiac arrest just for you.
How can I be held responsible for the consequences when everything is out of sequence, doesn't that leave me only a con? 
Paradigm shift has occurred.
The door to my heart is closed.