Saturday, 5 December 2009

Nothing More Than This

This journal will be deleted, as I realise the words that I fight to say are irrelevant.
The stories in my head I could never relate.
The songs that I hear I cannot write.
The journey I make is mine and mine alone.
The photographs I take are lacking in colour, contrast and continuity.

I am brain damaged and cannot communicate my thoughts let alone understand the thoughts of others in writing or speech.
I have tried and failed to overcome the massive destruction that was done to me by a drunk driver and corrupt police officers that offered help to their friend rather than caring for the victim of his crime.

I have so much hate inside me it is destroying me.
Every siren I hear drives yet another nail into my coffin, as it revives the hatred I have for the liars that have taken everything from me including my self-respect.

No don’t go to sleep after reading this unless you are prepared to have a nightmare and find that I am riding the pale horse that threatens your compliance with a corrupt system.

This is the dawn of a new day.
This is no time to fall asleep.
So I will continue on Notes on the Scale that will never try to be anything more than it is.
A lifeline from me to you if you ever find yourself drowning.

Friday, 4 December 2009

Made to Scale...

I have opened a new journal that is exactly what it says it is~
Notes on a Scale.

No attempt at poetry, no attempt at singing this journal merely records the notes that try to scale the heights and depths of imagination while accepting reality holds the key that opens the door to understanding.
I do not expect any followers or comments.
I write my thoughts in order to learn to read more clearly the thoughts of others.

I thank every follower of this journal and wish you to know I appreciate every comment.
How else can I ever know that my words have been understood?

Thursday, 3 December 2009

Good Grief

'LOST BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN' From Let the end try the man

I lost,
So many thoughts before they formed into words,
My mind is so slow it cannot produce the little I know,
In a form that could be understood
By any other:
Mother, and brother,
Father and sister,
And the long lost lover,
That sings with a clear voice from the mountain,
Through the valleys,
To the sea.

He lives,
As I cry for the chances that I lost in the past,
And hold onto the memories that lie in the sand,
Passing through the glass,
With many others:
Mother, and brother,
Father and sister,
I heard the song he wrote from the mountain,
In a language from the valleys,
And the sea.

I did not understand.
I lost.

Tuesday, 1 December 2009

No Two Alike

I have posted the second chapter to my Sci Fi story on Stories Between Friends
If there is no indication that anyone is interested in reading further then there will be no further posts.
But if you think that you have already understood the title after reading the first two chapters...think again!