Why do I think about you every day
And you barely talk to me every week
Why is your number easier to talk to than your mouth
And I get excited when you say my name in any context whatsoever

Just a thought for myself
But i wish it was your's too
You could own it also
And not even know that I knew

I have to hang out with you through someone else
But soon we'll be related through something else
Your friends won't help and I can barely stand it
When the thought of you hangs on my shelf

Its just a thought
After all
That I just happend to see
Looking at the wall

Are you my friend?
Is this forever?
Can I change your ways
With my mind so clever?

I don't know what to think
Or if I want to believe it
If all this is true
You must try to leave it

You know who I am
And what i'm about
You know my goals
You know me no doubt

Don't do this to me
Don't break my trust
Or my respect for you
Will turn to dust

Just follow me
As best you can
I'll run with you
Until the end

Don't be afraid
This may be new
But now we'll start
By changing you.

Part I-

 He doesn't know if what he's pursuing is ethical, or courtious, but does know why he does it.  It is not a hard, solid reason because it changes all the time.  It could be that he doesn't feel she is getting what she deserves, or possibly that he has more to offer you than the average person.  Having a relationship isn't about the money, the presents, the kissing, or the "togetherness" established in your social life.  Don't get me wrong, these things are worth the time and money when used accordingly and moderately, but in the end, it's the little things that count. 

 Part II-

 It's awkward, I can see... You sitting there with your boyfriend you possibly love and hold so dear, as he gazes from afar.  He only hopes someday that you can sit next to him and feel the same way.  So he can whisper softly in your ears, and hold your hand in such a way to resemble a dove, gently resting in his palm.  So you may feel the gentle rain of goosebumps as his finger grazes your cheek in affection.  So you may find comfort in a birthday hug, or a well written letter in which he took his time to name and consider everything good about you and every beautiful feature you obtain.  He only wishes to show you his kindness and love for days to come and in return only ask for your loving thankyou or the sense of security seen in your eyes.  He is but a dreamer, realizing in all maturity that a dreamer can only act as far as reality will let him.  So in this reality he stays...Persuing...Complimenting... Excercising his subtle kindness he hopes you will appreciate someday.  Someday...

The source in my ear and the beat in my head,
Only the old can share my joy. For it is
Nature that makes beauty, Even if Beauty is Time.
What was once loved then can still be loved now,

Resurrection is not nessessary, only the will to keep living.
Not as a pawn of babylon or an audioslave, but a
trailblazer of culture. Burn the way. Cleanse the bad.
and renew the old.  It Lives...

What is inspiration

Feeling something that
No one else has ever felt
And Idea, a vision,
Even a Perspective

A Setting, an emotion, and a
Tune, is what i
See, Hear, and Smell
But not always

It seems that
Your inspiration Is mine
And His inspiration is Hers
A creativity that can be
Infinitely shared

Moreover the concept
Of endless capabilities
Shouldn't be overwhelming
But invited instead.

Taken to another place
That exists only in you
A situation that was perfect
But only in hindsight

What you try to hold on to
When you crawl out of bed
Is what we should search for.
It is what I long for:

Inspiration

I'm Looking For You 

Whoever
you may be.  I'm
looking for you the one
who will listen to the sound.
See the color, or lack there of.
Sense the mystery. Awave of all we love.
crashing down on me. Explaining everything
I look for and someday hope to feel.  The joy
of freedom with no limitations.  Let it splash your
face out of pure consequence from your actions.
You should never be afraid of something that can
only better your view of life or perspective on the world
Sometimes I wonder if I see my life differently than others.
I think we all see life in our own way.  Reality is only what
we believe is real, and sometimes i find myself wanting things
to turn out unrealistic, justifying what I see through my mind.
I'll get caught in this upward spiral of creative repetition trying to guess
where its taking me.  I become something I've seen.  I write, I draw, I only attempt
to animate this blissful perspective that follows me everywhere.  I rethink it as if it is
a person, mimicking my actions and thoughts only in a much more accurate, successful
way.  Perfecting what I have created into an original masterpiece of countless trial and error.
Some time, somewhere, I am your shadow, and you are my soul.  Constantly I'm looking for you.