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I rest my head on stone
Counting stars until I lose my way
Wondering how far and near I've been
And next to nothing I am

Just to rest in peace once again
Seems like a simple thing
All of these mysteries I'm swiming in
Whoah - nothin

And I look to the right
Only to see what is there
My trembling hand reachin again
For the door again
Only to find it openin from within

Within this place I'm in
I watch and listen
Learning the subtleties of whats been
And been taken
What I've got to give
Cannot be stolen
No matter how many illusions be thrown

A book of words and a poem today
My heart broken and healed again
Neither a drowning victim
Nor a Saint Samaritan
I know my integrity
May haunt
Haunt them all
Again and again

And I look to the right
Only to see what is there
My trembling hand reachin for the door again
Only to find it openin from within
From within

I rest my head upon a flower bed
One ear gently to the ground
Listening - Voices - Distant
Far off murmurs of sweet angels singing


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"[...]um dos primeiros sintomas de psicose é o de que a pessoa sente talvez que se está a tornar psicótica. É outra armadilha chinesa. Não se pode pensar nisso sem se tornar parte disso. Pensando na loucura XXXXXXX escorregou por degraus até à loucura.
Desejaria tê-lo ajudado."
  • Listening to: KMBT radio - Return to Zero hosted by Scott K
  • Reading: achewood by chris onstad, valis by philip kd
  • Watching: mind game
  • Playing: WoW, dota
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Submitted on
May 15, 2008
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