How the hell did our eyes get so red?
You know, and this is really true, that sometimes it hurts real bad when your dreams are taken away from you. When you sort of know, not exactly certain, but sort of believe deep in your heart, that you're in a position to really get something out of your effort. And it is really sickening to see it slip away slowly, but surely from your grasp.
What gives it a bitterly harrowing after-taste was the fact that you didn't really throw in the towel, up till the dying moments. And even then, you were still holding on to that little believe that somehow miracles do happen. Although in the end, you knew it was over, you still believe that things should have gone your way. You blame it on luck, and a little bit on yourself. But you still, in a way, hope it was all a dream.
And dreams, believe me, are not as sweet as all of us want to believe they are.
Be it an unrequited love, or a futile struggle, or even the sight of an F on your report card, make no mistake about it. A small piece of your heart would have disintegrated to mere compost the moment your little dream is shattered. And oh my, oh my, how your heart would cry.
And we don't stand here too long to mourn any loss. Because the nature of life dictates that we move on, in our own pace of course, no matter what the circumstances. And the cliche about what doesn't kill you makes you stronger couldn't have been more true. But still, the tinge of sorrow hovers around you, as if it was your master.
And you wonder what went wrong. The childish mind games you play with yourself. If you love somebody, you should let it go free, so they say. Try again, they tell you. Or results don't matter, they claim. Or it's the way you play the game, not the outcome of the game that matters, they want to make you believe. You almost believed it. Almost.
But as the rain hits the window pane, the sound of the pitter patter soothes your pain. And as you look out of your window, you see the world as it was. And while wishing for the sun to appear, you knew then, that no matter what they say, your dreams were taken from you. You're just not good enough to make it happen. The truth is as simple as that. No excuses, 'cause we love making excuses. No, no excuses, you tell yourself, and finally you accept the way things turn out to be.
Lets be a bit human this time around, and grief like any mortals would. Maybe then you'll have an explanation for that red eyes of yours.
What gives it a bitterly harrowing after-taste was the fact that you didn't really throw in the towel, up till the dying moments. And even then, you were still holding on to that little believe that somehow miracles do happen. Although in the end, you knew it was over, you still believe that things should have gone your way. You blame it on luck, and a little bit on yourself. But you still, in a way, hope it was all a dream.
And dreams, believe me, are not as sweet as all of us want to believe they are.
Be it an unrequited love, or a futile struggle, or even the sight of an F on your report card, make no mistake about it. A small piece of your heart would have disintegrated to mere compost the moment your little dream is shattered. And oh my, oh my, how your heart would cry.
And we don't stand here too long to mourn any loss. Because the nature of life dictates that we move on, in our own pace of course, no matter what the circumstances. And the cliche about what doesn't kill you makes you stronger couldn't have been more true. But still, the tinge of sorrow hovers around you, as if it was your master.
And you wonder what went wrong. The childish mind games you play with yourself. If you love somebody, you should let it go free, so they say. Try again, they tell you. Or results don't matter, they claim. Or it's the way you play the game, not the outcome of the game that matters, they want to make you believe. You almost believed it. Almost.
But as the rain hits the window pane, the sound of the pitter patter soothes your pain. And as you look out of your window, you see the world as it was. And while wishing for the sun to appear, you knew then, that no matter what they say, your dreams were taken from you. You're just not good enough to make it happen. The truth is as simple as that. No excuses, 'cause we love making excuses. No, no excuses, you tell yourself, and finally you accept the way things turn out to be.
Lets be a bit human this time around, and grief like any mortals would. Maybe then you'll have an explanation for that red eyes of yours.
posted by sprecher at 2:46 PM
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