Click to Listen
Also; Madison Ziegler's beautiful dance to this song---> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOqhmlEKLL4
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
DiSaPpEaR - cHrIsTiNa Li
I think im drowning
but I dont know where
the air is, or which direction
to go
And this pain inmy chest
it still there, it wont
ever let me rest
Please get me out of here
So I can disappear
from the life im leading
dont think they'll be
needing me anymore
I'm running faster but
I dont know, if its
something from the
ghosts of old
And this pain in my chest
its still there, it'll
never let me rest
Oh-Woah
Please let me rest
Please get me
out of here
So I can disappear
from the life im leading
dont think they'll be
needing me anymore
So I am going now
to a home that will keep
greeting me no matter
what they know
And so I'm going now
to a home that will keep
greeting me know matter
what they know and so
I'm gone
Dont care if the're waiting
im happy drifting away
Dont care if they're crying
This waters just like air
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
It happens like this.
It’s the middle of the night. All would be quiet, for the world is sleeping, if not for the ticking of the clock and the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. Here, in this dark solitude, there is nothing to protect you from yourself. You try to stop the growing storm within you, but it is too late. It is growing on its own now, building on itself, beyond your control, so that finally you must stop fighting it, and it comes. Bursting from your innermost self, the truth you smother so easily in your everyday life is set free once again by the darkness you cannot escape. Always when you least expect it, when you think you have left it behind, it returns, for this demon is within, and cannot be outrun. Your very soul pours out before you, pooling around you, and your tears join it. Only when there is nothing left does the darkness have mercy, and you pass once again into a dreamless sleep. The clock ticks on.
It’s the middle of the night. All would be quiet, for the world is sleeping, if not for the ticking of the clock and the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. Here, in this dark solitude, there is nothing to protect you from yourself. You try to stop the growing storm within you, but it is too late. It is growing on its own now, building on itself, beyond your control, so that finally you must stop fighting it, and it comes. Bursting from your innermost self, the truth you smother so easily in your everyday life is set free once again by the darkness you cannot escape. Always when you least expect it, when you think you have left it behind, it returns, for this demon is within, and cannot be outrun. Your very soul pours out before you, pooling around you, and your tears join it. Only when there is nothing left does the darkness have mercy, and you pass once again into a dreamless sleep. The clock ticks on.
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