102811 -- Jack and Jill went up the hill
Oct. 29th, 2011 12:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
memorialrainbowAnother quick update. I want to tell you about two really cool days, but I've been pretty busy with just trying to keep my head above water.
I'm still watching Survivor. Yes, I know I used to watch it with a huge group of Navs at Miami, but I still watch it because it inspires me, somehow, weirdly, in a way. It doesn't help that it's, like, somehow overtly-Christian now. Hey, let's pray all the time! XD
I've been working pretty hard on the website. Tomorrow I think I'm going to organize all of my music and put it together in something respectable.
When I get a chance, I'd like to compose something. There's been a force in my life I'd like to, at least for now, call "the mirror." I think it could be crafted as a story, actually. A mirror used to create another world, much like this one, in order to make your wildest dreams come true...or to only make sure that you are never alone. What would such a mirror mean? What would it create? And would it be God's will? Seriously, think about that one. For the miracle of the mirror might just mean more than you have ever thought.
Two souls rest in peace, their hands intertwined forever, alone in their house of glass. A girl cracks her wings and flies across the Manhattan skyline. The girl called the morning star, the one to open the door, has not forsaken her destiny but is rather just beginning to understand it. Young inside, graceful, no longer a girl but a woman. An angel blows kisses to the wind as he watches his skyline. Can I hear your voice? What started out as a simple little love song, so long ago, a lullaby, continues to this day...and has evolved into the fight between good and evil, as all pick sides for contrasting reasons. The weaver deftly fixes the strands of this world. Shatter the glass chandelier, rewrite your history. Let's go out for coffee; stare into my eyes, append my life.
Who cares how these messy footprints were made? They were made regardless. I may not have time to stop and say I'm sorry, but that doesn't mean I don't feel that way. I may come off as cold, not all here, but I learn with every step I take. Take my hand and we'll encircle the world, the way it was meant to be. Let's tell the story of the most beautiful love affair on this little island of ours.
Get a clu; I'm tying the yellow ribbon into my hair, my arms open wide, bring on the winter and all it has to offer me. Start up track one, that yellow feeling, "all of your time spent keeps us alive." Yeah, I think it'd make a good story, if I only had the time to work on it.
Wait.
How'd it get to be so late? Dylan, I hope you're done with your play soon.
I'm still watching Survivor. Yes, I know I used to watch it with a huge group of Navs at Miami, but I still watch it because it inspires me, somehow, weirdly, in a way. It doesn't help that it's, like, somehow overtly-Christian now. Hey, let's pray all the time! XD
I've been working pretty hard on the website. Tomorrow I think I'm going to organize all of my music and put it together in something respectable.
When I get a chance, I'd like to compose something. There's been a force in my life I'd like to, at least for now, call "the mirror." I think it could be crafted as a story, actually. A mirror used to create another world, much like this one, in order to make your wildest dreams come true...or to only make sure that you are never alone. What would such a mirror mean? What would it create? And would it be God's will? Seriously, think about that one. For the miracle of the mirror might just mean more than you have ever thought.
Two souls rest in peace, their hands intertwined forever, alone in their house of glass. A girl cracks her wings and flies across the Manhattan skyline. The girl called the morning star, the one to open the door, has not forsaken her destiny but is rather just beginning to understand it. Young inside, graceful, no longer a girl but a woman. An angel blows kisses to the wind as he watches his skyline. Can I hear your voice? What started out as a simple little love song, so long ago, a lullaby, continues to this day...and has evolved into the fight between good and evil, as all pick sides for contrasting reasons. The weaver deftly fixes the strands of this world. Shatter the glass chandelier, rewrite your history. Let's go out for coffee; stare into my eyes, append my life.
Who cares how these messy footprints were made? They were made regardless. I may not have time to stop and say I'm sorry, but that doesn't mean I don't feel that way. I may come off as cold, not all here, but I learn with every step I take. Take my hand and we'll encircle the world, the way it was meant to be. Let's tell the story of the most beautiful love affair on this little island of ours.
Get a clu; I'm tying the yellow ribbon into my hair, my arms open wide, bring on the winter and all it has to offer me. Start up track one, that yellow feeling, "all of your time spent keeps us alive." Yeah, I think it'd make a good story, if I only had the time to work on it.
Wait.
How'd it get to be so late? Dylan, I hope you're done with your play soon.
