Inner workings.. made external

-The occasional conversations with my keyboard-


Some things are not meant to be, but sometimes it’s okay,
because, maybe.. just maybe..

They were meant to be once in a lifetime.

And once would be enough. Once can last a long long time.

All that matters; is that you loved once.


Staring into Space

And I cannot, for the life of me, figure out how to stop that which I started.
How to silence the discontent gnawing away at me with painful precision.
I know exactly how it begun, though.
I know the catalyst.
Or at least, I thought I did, but if anything, all knowledge has taught me is that uncertainty will always triumph.

Foreign horizons, far flung shores.
To begin again.
It doesn’t take a mistake-ridden life to want that.
All it takes is an underwhelmed soul.
This is it, this is Life. 

I think Life is but a vehicle, it is us who set it into motion.

If you take all of time and string it together, all you get will be a complete mess, even if it is in chronological order.

We need to take selected moments and put them side by side, to make a picture, to make it make sense.

I think the space between the moments in life are sometimes too far apart.
There is too much noise and too little music.
We live for the moment, but we miss out on making these moments.

I don’t have the next moment to put inside the collage I hung up in my heart,
and that is exactly what is eating at me day after wasted day.




Be still, beating heart.

Why get so wound up,
About things so out..
Of our control.


I’ll be waiting; waiting on a brand new day.

It gives:

Meaning behind a certain kind of madness,
A sense of fullness to complete weightlessness.
The leaves are falling,
From the branches it once perceived as home.

Falling leaves one breathless.


Happy is _


The man who has never seen a golden Caribbean sunset wavering on the horizon, 
never watched the electric and pulsating skyline from the Empire State building,
never stood at the foot of majestic Swiss mountains that have made their home amongst the clouds.

With exposure comes an uneasy restlessness,
that can only be satiated with yet more glittering sights and sounds that but serve as a momentary but welcome distraction.

Wanderlust: It is many things.

But most of all, it is some kind of madness.