HELLO.
"Contrariwise," continued Tweedledee, "if it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic." Through the Looking-Glass; Lewis Carroll
| Hello. | Goodbye. |
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Through the Looking-Glass; Lewis Carroll |
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Sunday, January 11, 2009, 11:17 PM
I kind of hate you thought it isn't exactly your fault yeah, maybe I should've been stronger, sturdier, more discerning But sorry you didn't care you hit out and crippled me when I couldn't take the blow and you knew that very well and I know that I should've been stronger, sturdier, more discerning but apparently I wasn't enough so I fell and never got up again And now everything's lost and you sigh in contempt and condenscation and sigh that it was entirely my fault that this glory evaded me and I lost it all and maybe I should've been stronger, sturdier, more discerning but apparently too little, too late and I cried too soon and gave up But I would never have had a reason to wail in despair if you hadn't walked out when I admitted my fault, that I apologised for not being perfect enough for the one time I had to be for the one of so many all of which I'd lost count of so long ago because I was too tired to burned out to keep counting I meant to be perfect so I failed and then you turned away scorned mocked condemned And afterward said on the eve of battle that I should've been stronger, sturdier, more discerning and once more before I said goodbye and though it was one long day it stayed with me forever your voice that said I should've been stronger, sturdier, more discerning haunts me now and even so long after and I realise that I've been haunting myself and your fury made me hate myself and now I know I should've been stronger, sturdier, more discerning and hammered your words out of my head but too little, and far too late Because now when I try the blade cuts into my mind, tears into my soul and I hate myself for not being stronger, sturdier, more discerning and allowing you to break into my consience And now while everyone's waiting for the sun to come out with bated breath and well-placed fear I'm here far away such a blessing; yet such a curse hoping alone for the miracle everyone says that'll descend but deep inside I know probably will not And now you'll probably be recounting my sorry story as a complaint supposed regret a warning to all those else to be unlike me to be stronger, sturdier, more discerning to be able to take a tight slap across the face But I don't know if hitting a soul that trusts you, believes you in all and puts down all its arrogance and confidence but perhaps it was too little too late and now I'm a regret long gone and my memory is a warning and while that is all that remains of me I'm still here far away wondering whether to hate myself for what had happened or hate myself for hating myself for what's never going to be changed and when I close my eyes or still my mind ask myself ask my consience ask my soul stronger sturdier more discerning or if it will ever keep me from having myself ripped apart once ever more. |