Mini Post-Christmas Bitch Fit

Enough is enough, right?
Ha. Lessons you learn from watching "Pretty Woman" for the gazillionth time. That's exactly why I write under the name of Penny Lane. Got a lot to learn from her in terms of... well, saying enough is enough.
I'm just tired, that's all. I want real things now, but at the same time I'm scared. And no, come on, who am I kidding? Listen to Joss Stone's "Lady" - "why are you still here when I told you it don't come to nothing?". Just go. All of you.

Need. Time. Alone.

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"Sweet heart, bitter heart, now I can't tell you apart..."

Sadness soaks and chokes the life out of you
When really, life should be permanently invited in.
But you don't invite sadness
And neither do you expect it.

It comes in bunches, instead.

She sung about miniature disasters
She played about minor catastrophes
And I am living proof that they will bring you to your knees.
No amount of patience, bravery or introspective thinking will make it go away.

Because it comes in bunches - it's bad.

There is a cure and it hangs in the skies
She blows the clouds around a twinkly dot of hope.
You become curious and enthralled and wonder if it's just a plane
The cure is that which whispers to you that the dot is indeed a star.

So yes, it comes in bunches.
It's sad and bad and messes with your head.
I'm still crawling on my knees, tearful and sore
But because of that star last night... I'm not dead!

Dead in the body and dead in the soul
Are the far ends of (at least my) reality.
I don't want either for anyone
But if the choice is to be made, let it be the first over the latter always and forever.

Soul.
"She's in Heaven and Heaven is in our hearts,"
I was told by a six-year-old.
Out hearts and souls beg us for Peace, Love and Humanity.

Believe in stars.
Choose life for the soul.
Keep the sky in your hearts.
Your head's still on fire, your body is still sore, and your eyes still leak.

But how would you otherwise know and feel you're still alive?
You're still alive.
We're still alive.
Don't look for who shot the arrow - follow it and look for the target instead.

Nothing makes sense if not thought about at the right time.
The right time is not previously scheduled, but comes in random bunches to balance out Sadness.
With a heavy head, sore bones and liquid eyes I hereby beg you:
Don't foll around while you wait for the "right time".

Instead, I lower myself from my kneeling to throw myself at your feet and make an honest suggestion.
While the right time to think doesn't come to your life
Live in Peace, Love and Humanity.
The "right time" has a will of its own and surpasses mortality; your personal expiration date does not.

You make people hurt when you pound at our doors.
We hear your subtle whispers, there is no need to add to the Noise.
Talk.
Just talk to me.

*

Why not?

Peace, love, safety, happiness, warmth, earth, wind, fire, water, spirit, moon, stars, smells... and a weirdly prophetic dream, as the cherry on top. Then waking up to feel lazily divine, after sleeping with the feeling I was not alone in my room. There. That's where I'll stop.

I will not go blind. This is a new beginning, however little and seemingly insignificant. Because it all starts from withing, don't it? :)

Colour me free indeed. Allow me to have beautiful mornings every morning and let the world shine as bright as it did/does today forever. It IS all in the eyes of the beholder, so let me be a clean, blissful, peace&love beholder. No lies, no cheating, no drama, no unnecessary or evil intoxicants.

Peace, love, and blessed be.

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