where is thy love i shall never see,
where is thy love i shall never hear,
where is thy love i shall never smell,
where is thy love i shall never touch,
where is thy love i shall never taste?
Where will I go without my love there?
What should I do?
Though not as wise as it should be, the voice replied...
Why do you search for something that is always there?
Standing by your side watching and waiting.
For the person who you are searching for,
Is searching for you too.
When you find each other,
It will be just as the simple equation.
1+1=1
You will know when you find each other,
But never tempt fate,
As you never what is around corner!
I cried and smiled at the false yet true sense of hope I was given.
I still yet had much to learn from the voice,
yet don't we all when inteviewing you own head?
(this is a no particular reason passage made completely randomly form my own imagination...
If life were to live, and death were to die how does the world go round while it revolves through ;love and hate?
If confusion were to reign it would reign through the world of humanity until it leads to the destruction of the race, what would the world revolve around then?
Would it still be the opposites which so strongly bind us together to form one big family?
Like love and hate, peace and war, life and death.
It's so strange how this works, as it binds psychology and science together to form a mass of information so complex that it takes years of explanations and information.
Who consists in this family? Well it is everyone, from all four corners of the world, and not many people know how this family started, but apparently religion has a different idea on everything
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What is love, does anyone know?
I don't think anyone does, it's dofferent for everyone.
I want love
Well, I mean I have love already from friend and famely,
But
There must be something different.
Some people say there is that special magic,
But where is it?
So my diary ISN'T sad and empty, I am putting some random stuff down to show that my diary is loved...well in a dark sort of way lol.
Anywayz I found this really funny poemy writing thingy today you just got to see it:
Abraham Spunk: Flee vestibule for momentary tectonics
A corpse of sellotape castrating her magesty
a telephone...
i was thinking, has the cancer passed by your window
the cardboard mamogram eats ice cream
when your father whips you in the pissoir grande -
operating on an open grave in the hope of finding some
artichokes hammers made of lillies, a wife carving the day's new noosphere
That is so weird!