Tuesday, February 15, 2005
It seems like a big cloud rests atop me today. My head is spinning like anything. Actually it seems like it's spinning and throbbing at the same time. I feel like some tumbleweed rolling across a desert. Mindlessly rolling. Not being able to help rolling. Not like rolling is helping. So much desert to roll over, so little time.

I heard a beautiful song over the radio this morning. I'm forcing myself to squeeze some motivation, however little, from its words. Because here I am again, slumped and hunched over, finding no purpose in this mud-toiling (or desert-rolling). I apologize for such a post following the free-spirited posts below, how anti-climactic I know. But I hope you would appreciate this song, which is probably the only source of a smile, if ever one even threatens my lips:

Speak- say the words that no one else will ever say
Love- love like the world we know is over in a day
I'm gonna show you a love in every language
I'm gonna speak with the words that need no form
I'm gonna give you what you never had before
You're beautiful and I am weakened by the force of your eyes
So shine bright to separate the truth from the lies
I'm gonna show you love
I'm gonna show you a love in every language
I'm gonna speak with the words that need no form
I'm gonna give you what you never had before
So tie me to a tree and let the smoke and ash collect
No, I won't regret to let love do what love will let
We can drown in mixed emotions or walk across an angry sea
This is the cost of being free.
dezphaire strapped in @ 3:12 PM  


  • At 2:10 AM, Anonymous jayvee f. said…

    wow foz the first two things i noticed were the new layout and the new picture. haha!! :D

    nicee! (what happened to your color black fixation?)

  • At 11:38 AM, Blogger dezphaire said…

    haha. i appreciate your noticing :) it's total metamorphosization (i'm inventing words)!

    black fixation is still there, don't worry. i can't be fozzy without black.


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Sometimes bored. Most of the time oddly alive. Phobic of butterflies. Creatively suppressed. Hungry for coffee and shoes. This is my subconscious talking... at times interrupted by my reality.

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Jealousy, turning saints into the sea. Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis. But it's just the price to pay, Destiny is calling me. Open up my eager eyes 'cause I'm Mr. Brightside -- "Mr. Brightside" The Killers
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