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Array ( [sid] => 114211 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => the truth about me [time] => 2006-02-03 19:43:36 [hometext] => it's about something, but i'm not telling you what ^_^ always, abraham [bodytext] => There is no safe way to begin. I am struggling to find the perfect beginning, but my beginning is far from perfect.
I was born in Roseburg, Oregon in the year nineteen-eighty, at 8:03 AM.
The only significance in this, is that I was born. It is not the beginning.
Eighteen years passed before I began.
I am more than just the young man who's shell I have carried across these short, sad moments, but I cannot tell you who or what I am.
In the mirror, in the reflections of a still water, there is only one, and that is he, who I consume. But in the dreams that he dreams, and the mindlessness of sleep, it is not one, but two, and we are not the same.
In every thought that he thinks, I am there, waiting. In every voice he speaks, it is my voice that lay waiting.
What you need to understand is that it is he who writes this now, it is he who knows me best. I am the strength in his weakness. I am the moment of clarity in his confusion. I am understanding, and he is listened well to my words, and heeds my warning.
But he is a fool, else I would not be here. And he is meek, else I would travel far from here, and know the great warmths of the mountains of silences far to the north, where you cannot see.

So, you must understand, I began because he could not begin; because he closed his eyes, I opened mine, and it is with my eyes that he sees, and with my heart that he feels.
There is no true way for you to understand this. There is no true way for me to plot my beginning for you, or from where I began, but only that I began again on the twentieth day of august in nineteen ninety-eight.

And my voice is the voice of many. And my voice lay waiting. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 180 [topic] => 73 [informant] => iodinelove [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 6 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
the truth about me

Contributed by iodinelove on Friday, 3rd February 2006 @ 07:43:36 PM in AEST
Topic: abstract



There is no safe way to begin. I am struggling to find the perfect beginning, but my beginning is far from perfect.
I was born in Roseburg, Oregon in the year nineteen-eighty, at 8:03 AM.
The only significance in this, is that I was born. It is not the beginning.
Eighteen years passed before I began.
I am more than just the young man who's shell I have carried across these short, sad moments, but I cannot tell you who or what I am.
In the mirror, in the reflections of a still water, there is only one, and that is he, who I consume. But in the dreams that he dreams, and the mindlessness of sleep, it is not one, but two, and we are not the same.
In every thought that he thinks, I am there, waiting. In every voice he speaks, it is my voice that lay waiting.
What you need to understand is that it is he who writes this now, it is he who knows me best. I am the strength in his weakness. I am the moment of clarity in his confusion. I am understanding, and he is listened well to my words, and heeds my warning.
But he is a fool, else I would not be here. And he is meek, else I would travel far from here, and know the great warmths of the mountains of silences far to the north, where you cannot see.

So, you must understand, I began because he could not begin; because he closed his eyes, I opened mine, and it is with my eyes that he sees, and with my heart that he feels.
There is no true way for you to understand this. There is no true way for me to plot my beginning for you, or from where I began, but only that I began again on the twentieth day of august in nineteen ninety-eight.

And my voice is the voice of many. And my voice lay waiting.




Copyright © iodinelove ... [ 2006-02-03 19:43:36]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: the truth about me (User Rating: 1 )
by lost_chadow on Friday, 3rd February 2006 @ 07:59:04 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Why does this sound familiar? I feel the same way about myself, but ur liable to be talking about somthin totally different.




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