Raz
Bluelighter
06/01/03
I'm listening to the Beastie Boys in the park, the last part of the day leaving me behind in the dark.
I wanted to know if I could write when I'm happy. I wanted to know if my brain knows how to verbalise content.
It's kind of easy to write all my pain out. It's easy to hurt. It's easy to cut myself with a razor blade, in fact it's a bit of a cliche.
The tortured artist. The tragic clown.
No-one ever hears about the happy clown; like you're supposed to be some dark anti-hero to be creative.
Well, fuck that. Life's for living. The bad experiences are worth having, but there's so much more to life than that shit.
The moon's a delicate sliver in the sky, and I get to see that. It's still the last post-coital strokes and rolls of the day, and I get to see the moon. How awesome is that?
Little birds aren't threatening to me in this light. They're just birds and my mind's blown with the beauty and the majesty of it all.
There's a guy and his girlfriend dry-fucking on the grass behind me. They're the beautiful people, but in this light we all are.
In this light I can make myself believe that we're all beautiful to someone.
In this light it's all right.
Everything's fucking glorious.
--Raz--
I'm listening to the Beastie Boys in the park, the last part of the day leaving me behind in the dark.
I wanted to know if I could write when I'm happy. I wanted to know if my brain knows how to verbalise content.
It's kind of easy to write all my pain out. It's easy to hurt. It's easy to cut myself with a razor blade, in fact it's a bit of a cliche.
The tortured artist. The tragic clown.
No-one ever hears about the happy clown; like you're supposed to be some dark anti-hero to be creative.
Well, fuck that. Life's for living. The bad experiences are worth having, but there's so much more to life than that shit.
The moon's a delicate sliver in the sky, and I get to see that. It's still the last post-coital strokes and rolls of the day, and I get to see the moon. How awesome is that?
Little birds aren't threatening to me in this light. They're just birds and my mind's blown with the beauty and the majesty of it all.
There's a guy and his girlfriend dry-fucking on the grass behind me. They're the beautiful people, but in this light we all are.
In this light I can make myself believe that we're all beautiful to someone.
In this light it's all right.
Everything's fucking glorious.
--Raz--
