Telling Stories

- Feel free to come and see me, and see that there’s no need for you to worry
- Feel free to come and see me, if you’re ever in the mood for another story

Do you want to hear a new explanation, a new story that could make things clear to you?
When I said I was lying I might have been lying. In their own ways all those stories were true.

I fell out of love with you round about the time I fell out with you,
out of a moving vehicle onto the street, where falling in love’s like falling on concrete,
a place where I don’t know what’s true any more, what am I waiting here for anyway?

I remember when this used to be fun.
Now I’m always on the run, run, running away

You didn’t understand what I was running from, I was running from what I thought I’d become, on the wrong turn where thoughts burn,
scorching earth,
still birth killing,
yet I’m still willing,
is this weakness of will?

It’s happening still, when will these emotions in motion be still, they just couldn’t be killed,
for the earth you seeded and tilled bore an unexpected harvest.
How do you expect me to resist it as I revise my statements in retrospect never knowing quite what to expect, oh what excitement!

As long as I still care,
Not going anywhere,
but in circles

Sorry, friend! Were you speaking again?
My mind was wandering lonely as a cloud- and about as substantial (for deep down I’m superficial)
It wasn’t evident- the evidence was circumstantial,
but if there must be someone to blame then I’m guilty all the same

My mind’s been wandering and I’ve been wondering,
Pondering philosophical insights such as:
"What is an ocean but a really big puddle?"

I’ve been muddling along, clear as mud,
Trying to dilute myself to be transparent as water,
To brighten up to become a sunbeam,
To lighten up to be the very air you breathe,
To become your sweetest dream

But the dream’s gone and forgotten
As soon as you awake

My mind’s been wandering and I’ve been wondering
when I’ll finally shake this feeling of being a fake

What will it take for me to finally see some kind of authenticity?
Where oh where is the real me?

The real me set off in search of the real world and never returned
I wonder, what’s the lesson to be learned there?

As long as I still care,
Not going anywhere,
But in circles,
In search of miracles

Sometimes only myths can get at truths we seek. Am I so weak?
Do you not know your own strength? I could go on at length, spinning lines that would soar,
Waxing meaningless, building nothingness
But in the end, what for?

Whatever you may do, may my words serve as a blessing to you,
following you in your comings and goings and doings,

- Helping you to feel free from worry
- And feel free to come see me when you want to hear another story

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