Lips Of An Angel
Honey, why you calling me so late?
It's kinda hard to talk right now
And honey, why you crying? Is everything okay?
I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud
Well, my girl's in the next room
Sometimes I wish she was you
I guess we never really moved on
It's really good to hear your voice saying my name
It sounds so sweet
Coming from the lips of an angel
Hearing those words, it makes me weak
And I never wanna say goodbye
But girl, you make it hard to be faithful
With the lips of an angel
It's funny that you're calling me tonight
And, yes, I've dreamt of you too
And does he know you're talking to me
Will it start a fight?
No, I don't think she has a clue
Honey, why you calling me so late?
- 'Lips Of An Angel,' performed by Hinder
Kinetic Exploration Entity
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Monday, May 10, 2004
And Miles To Go Before I Dream
Sleep-deprived,
I am
a decomposing heap
of shuddering cells and
quivering limbs
that end in numb
stubs of stiff
brittle flesh; an
impending dissolution
in the dryness of my bones
and the dull ache
in my brain. I seek
rest, but find none
in this wired landscape
of endless hollow
stimulation.
Sleep-deprived,
I am
a decomposing heap
of shuddering cells and
quivering limbs
that end in numb
stubs of stiff
brittle flesh; an
impending dissolution
in the dryness of my bones
and the dull ache
in my brain. I seek
rest, but find none
in this wired landscape
of endless hollow
stimulation.
Sunday, September 22, 2002
I also remember the day he died.
He passed from being my grandfather to being an inanimate object quietly, without telling anyone. He just went. None of his four sons and eight daughters were prepared for it, and only a few family members were present to see him go. I wasn't among those who were. I foolishly went about my life as I normally did on the day of his death, expecting him to return from the hospital and be himself again, sitting on the living room floor and drinking his tea.
I couldn't even recognise the thing lying in the hospital bed when I saw it. It was thin and hollow. It was nothing like my grandfather. I thought there had been a mistake. The life support systems were not turned off for some reason. The thing looked like it was still breathing.
I don't think I ever got over his death, although it was easier to come to terms with it after the house that he lived in was sold. It was hard to step into that old living room without expecting to see him sitting there again, crosslegged and taking his tea just like the way he used to do, looking as healthy as an ox or some other large, powerful animal, virile and full of life.
He looked like he would live forever.
He passed from being my grandfather to being an inanimate object quietly, without telling anyone. He just went. None of his four sons and eight daughters were prepared for it, and only a few family members were present to see him go. I wasn't among those who were. I foolishly went about my life as I normally did on the day of his death, expecting him to return from the hospital and be himself again, sitting on the living room floor and drinking his tea.
I couldn't even recognise the thing lying in the hospital bed when I saw it. It was thin and hollow. It was nothing like my grandfather. I thought there had been a mistake. The life support systems were not turned off for some reason. The thing looked like it was still breathing.
I don't think I ever got over his death, although it was easier to come to terms with it after the house that he lived in was sold. It was hard to step into that old living room without expecting to see him sitting there again, crosslegged and taking his tea just like the way he used to do, looking as healthy as an ox or some other large, powerful animal, virile and full of life.
He looked like he would live forever.
An Instrument of Exploration
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