So is this what we asked for? Isn't it frightening, when dreams seem to be coming true? All these years, all these perpetual disappointments, we have become accustomed to dreaming but not to living. Would you dare to fly, if you were almost certain you'd fall?
The fragile promise of something new, yet again, just as you were starting to believe that the game was already over for you. Nothing ever ends, you're never too old to feel young again as you're never too young for suffering- just don't expect anyone else to understand your passion for self inflicted pain.
One life, one body, one chance to break free of all that holds you down. Call it love, or call it inspiration; it is the eternal need to express what lies buried and inexpressible inside you. To truly share a moment, or even two.
Can you grasp the hope, and the agony? Or am I risking to irreversibly injure my soul in my futile struggle to break invisible walls separating me from willing, albeit imaginary strangers?
The fragile promise of something new, yet again, just as you were starting to believe that the game was already over for you. Nothing ever ends, you're never too old to feel young again as you're never too young for suffering- just don't expect anyone else to understand your passion for self inflicted pain.
One life, one body, one chance to break free of all that holds you down. Call it love, or call it inspiration; it is the eternal need to express what lies buried and inexpressible inside you. To truly share a moment, or even two.
Can you grasp the hope, and the agony? Or am I risking to irreversibly injure my soul in my futile struggle to break invisible walls separating me from willing, albeit imaginary strangers?
