Thanks to the occasionally wonderful thing commonly known as unemployment, I have a lot of time on my hands. As such, I’ve decided to engage in new tv shows and comic book series. One series that fit the bill nicely was The Walking Dead. I’ve got 96 issues in 2 compendiums and I feel that this experience is epic enough to warrant blogs by chapter. In this first installment you get my thoughts on the first chapter! Yay? And of course this post, along with the next one will be rife with comparisons to the TV show. If you are not up to date with the TV show there are some SPOILERS AHEAD!!!! Without further ado…
There are some nights when all you can do is stare…and wait. There are some nights, when reading a comic book simply isn’t good enough. When you’ve lost control of all semblance of focus and you begin to drift away. You float off in your mind to the future, to a time when what happens tonight doesn’t matter anymore because you’ll be back among friends. In that space you are free to say whatever you want, speak to anyone…not be afraid to say hello. Freedom…to just say whatever’s on your mind.
I think too many people take this ability for granted. There are people out there who have no one to share the little amusing seemingly inconsequential thoughts of their day with. It doesn’t have to be a lover, or a family member. Sometimes, most times in fact, I think this role falls to the friends. People who most times have vast stores of their own seemingly inconsequential thoughts to share as well. I cherish these people. On occasion, I think too many things to focus on one stream of consciousness and I need someone to talk to me and keep me grounded. It helps to share thoughts, to keep them in order. I used to feel like I had one of these people…a long time ago. That’s not to say that I don’t anymore, things are just different now. I go through entire days and barely talk to anyone. Instead I find myself engaging in much more…reclusive activities.
Some nights I can’t do anything but think. I just sit and wonder. All I want to know is how you’re doing, but I’m afraid that now just isn’t the time. No that’s a lie, what i’m really afraid of is that things have changed. I’m afraid that things have changed so much that you don’t want me anymore, that you’ve completely and totally moved on. That’s ok I suppose…it’s happened before…I’m sure I’ll get over that someday.
This is one of those nights. A time when just reading The Walking Dead, or writing in my blog, or watching some Doctor Who just isn’t enough to hold my attention. I suppose I’ll just call it an early Tuesday…and try again tomorrow.
So the good folks over at BBC released this little gem today called Doctor Who: P.S. it was a mostly animated short scene that was never filmed. It was written for the end of The Angels Take Manhattan and it concerned the events surrounding Amy and Rory informing Brian Williams of their fate. I saw stories talking about this last night…and I became concerned. The articles all said that it would tell us more about the Williams’ life after they got time locked in NY and about Brian. I was excited naturally, but worried about any potential inconsistencies there may have been in the scene. Well there weren’t…instead there was just…tears and crying…and tears.
Let me make this perfectly clear. I don’t cry about things…it takes a lot to get me upset. The only thing I have cried about in the past few months is Doctor Who. So i knew there would be feelings…but I wasn’t prepared for them. In no way shape or form was I prepared for these feelings. If you haven’t watched the video I would encourage you to do so because i’m about to ruin it for you if you haven’t.
So this man shows up at Amy and Rory’s house and Brian’s there…just watering the plants…like he said…someone has to water the plants. I just can’t handle how adorable Brian is as a human being, he’s is just remarkably loyal and just…wonderful really. Anyway…i’ll stop gushing. So Brian answers the door and this strange man invited himself in and gives Brian a letter…from him son…from like 60 years ago. So by now Amy and Rory are both dead and buried on NY. So maybe someday he’ll go and visit their graves… 😥 So then Brian reads the letter, and Rory tells his dad what happened to them. He tells him that he’ll never see him again, and that he misses his awkward hugs. Along with everything else about Brian. He goes on to tell him that he and Amy adopted a son, and that his adopted grandson is the man who delivered the letter. Brian goes to look the man he now knows to be his adopted grandson in the eyes, properly, for the first time. The last little piece of Amy and Rory that he’ll ever be able to see or touch again. He hugs this man, in his 60’s. His grandson is older than him…and he gives him an awkward hug.
For a lot of reasons this farewell for Brian is infinitely more upsetting than saying goodbye to Amy and Rory. The ending of Angels Take Manhattan will always be sad for that little girl sitting on her tan suitcase waiting to get whisked away by a magic man in a blue box. This ending is sad on such a deeper level though because of Brian. Anyone who watched an episode featuring Brian can understand how endearing he is. A man who just wanted to sit in orbit over his home planet and have tea when he learned he was in a time machine. A man who when told to stay put by the Doctor actually stayed put…for 4 days. A man who was so simple, but so overwhelming complicated just by being there. And this simple marvelous man now has to live with the fact that he sent his son and daughter-in-law away and now he might feel responsible for making them effectively dead to him and all of their family and friends.
Brian might have to be the one to tell everyone else, at least anyone who doesn’t know. Would he tell them the truth, or would he come up with a story? Why else couldn’t they be contacted? Why didn’t the Doctor tell him?…that bothers me. A whole week the Doctor kept him waiting…i’m sure he was in mourning for his friends, but he has a bloody time machine he could mourn for years and still go back the day after they left to tell Brian what happened. Brian might have to bury his own grandson.
When it comes to Doctor Who: P.S. I think I have decided this. It was beautiful, and I’m glad they released this information to us. Brian’s fate is ridiculously heartbreaking and I feel that he’s the real victim in all of this. Everyone has suffered no doubt, and Rory will miss his father as much as Brian will miss him. We know nothing about Brian’s life outside of his relationship with his son however…we don’t even know if his wife is still alive…i don’t think. He could be completely alone now. I feel for the Doctor too, I always will, but this time I think he should’ve known better. I don’t think i’ve ever stop feeling that way, he knows how dangerous he is to people and he keeps endangering them. I don’t want him to be alone, I could never want that. He just needs to figure out how to keep his friends safe…somehow.
So I kind of like sci-fi right? LIke it’s this thing that I tend to spend a lot of time observing…and so I’ve reached the point in my nerd-life (which is obviously different from a normal life) during which I’ve begun to form distinct opinions on various items in my sci-fi library. Now on the whole I generally love everything I watch to some degree or another, despite having some reservations because of a canonical inconsistency or something similar. One thing that bothers me more than any error in cannon or just a generally poorly written line/scene is Bad Science with a capital BS.
It may seem counterintuitive to get upset about faulty science in the realm of sci-fi, where the rules of science oftentimes do not apply or have been superseded. In some cases however, the rules of science that must be accepted to facilitate the goings-on in the show require an entirely different set of laws governing the physical world which clearly are not present. If everything else in the universe being considered adheres to the laws of physics as we know (and love/hate them) except for maybe some characters, etc., then one would assume that unless some Supernatural explanation is implied our current understanding of the properties of say, THE FRIGGIN SUN, still hold.
The object of my current rage and hate is Justice League Doom. Now this was quite a lovely little piece of animation, and overall I pretty much enjoyed it. There was a lot of pain and sadness for…the majority of the JLA, and Batman was awesome. There were a couple of things, one instance in particular, that I could not help but cringe at. There’s an instance when a missile thingy gets launched at the sun, which causes a solar flare that follows the missiles magnetic stream from the earth back to its point of origin to destroy approximately 1/2 of the population of the planet. A little outlandish, potentially cringe worthy already, but it got worse. A character states that it will take roughly 8 minutes for the solar flare to travel from the sun to the earth…no. Yes, light takes approximately 8 minutes to reach us from the sun, but the sun isn’t just made of light, it’s made of plasma. It would take longer than light speed for a…plasma projectile to travel from the sun to the earth. I will be the first to say that i’m not well versed in plasma physics so feel free to tell me i’m wrong. There was something else though that really upset me.
So we all know that Superman is fast, like he can fly really fast man. I guess he can fly near light speed? I mean faster than a speeding bullet for sure, and I would assume light speed-ish since he did that time travely thing right?…maybe i’m thinking of a betterimean….another superhero. Anyway. There’s a scene right after the sun gets hit by this stupid missile where Superman and Green Lantern are just chillin by the sun talking about the plans to save the earth. Green lantern stays behind and about a minute after the missile hits the sun Superman is back on the Earth. Now think about this. The movie clearly stated earlier that it would take about 8 minutes to travel from the sun to the Earth…at light speed. Superman just did that trip in under a minute…HOW THE HECK IS THIS POSSIBLE???? I mean to the best of my knowledge even Superman cannot travel That fast. Even if he can travel at light speed he wouldn’t have made it back to earth before the solar flare hit because he would’ve been a few seconds behind it the whole way. Maybe a bit faster than light speed I could buy, but we’re talking about a trip that takes LIGHT 8 minutes, taking Superman roughly 45 seconds…that’s crazy, it grinds my gears, and is in my opinion bad superhero science.
There was this whole other issue I had with Justice League Doom where every character is dumb at the end except Batman, and how I am almost certainly now and forever a Marvel girl if that movie was any indicator of the characterization of the DC superheros in the bulk of their respective franchises. Anyway…i’m done.
So as anyone who sees the tattoo on the back on my right calf (and understands it) would know, I have a deep and undying love for the angel Castiel from the TV series Supernatural. In recent months, since the release of The Avengers (praise Joss) I’ve realized my occasional affinity for villainous characters. Now these two ideas may seem unrelated on the surface, but as anyone familiar with the end of season 6 of Supernatural will know Castiel unfortunately displays some slightly Bad-Guyish behavior from time to time. Despite that my love for him never wavered, as I explained in something I posted elsewhere on the internet after I watched season 6 for the first time. I still love Castiel, though I am concerned for him…and his current state is nothing short of upsetting.
Anyway I’ve recently realized that my amicability towards villains may be a byproduct of my affection for Cas. This isn’t the first time I’ve loved an antagonistic character. Kaworu Nagissa from neon genesis evangelion is one of my favorite anime characters and he isn’t exactly…a good guy. I don’t try to dislike villains though..not even a little. I think it’s healthy though. I mean it isn’t normal…but I think it’s good to appreciate the typical driving force of any plot line, the conflict. Without villains there would be no conflict and that would just be lame…so thank you villains! Thank you for causing so much trouble.
Below you will find a series of tumblr posts from last year. I don’t want to lose them forever and I’m deleting the account so…here we go.
Ok so here we go. I like so many before me (or so I’ve read), have decided to embark on a personal experiment. To find one thing every day that makes me want to go on living. Now I know the original intent of these experiments was to find something that made you happy, but I have somewhat varied opinions on happiness…thus! the things that i chose to keep me going may seem a bit unorthodox to some. Rest assured, I will keep on going nonetheless.
Todays post will be in two parts, one to follow the form of my fellow bloggers, and one to express the uniqueness of the day. So without further ado…
Reading Zak’s posts typically make me feel strangely uninteresting. I read through them all just now, in an effort to put off writing my history paper just a bit longer, and I thought about starting my own blog as well. We discussed this a few days ago, probably after choir in those awkward moments after Vocalis is done rehearsing and we decide where to go for dinner. I didn’t really consider it that seriously because I didn’t think I would have anything that interesting to say…or I though that my journal would be enough. And perhaps I’m right, but what the hell. So anyway…Zak’s writing is very enjoyable for me to read. For all the times I spend harassing him, I hope that he knows how much of an inspiration he is to me. He really is my best friend, and I hope that I don’t lose him in the next few years. In the end I (obviously) decided that I would embark on his journey as well. As our lives so often run in parallel I figured that it was about time I joined him. So I’m looking forward to writing this tomorrow, I’m looking forward to searching my life for new and interesting things to share. I’m also happy to simply know that I have someone like Zak in my life to motivate me to do this. Through the sheer influence of the interWebz I am here and the SMB experiment is a go.
end part I…
So today I went to church. for anyone who knows me this would be a strange occurrence under normal circumstances. The choir was singing at a Moravian church on Staten Island and I was actually kind of looking forward to it…except for the waking up at 6 AM part. But the service was wonderful and it made me start to think about some things. So often I say that I don’t appreciate the stereotypified view that many hold of religion wherein you place your fears in God and they miraculously disappear. As with most stereotypes this must invariably be false. I didn’t really realize that I was holding a stereotype until today. How could anyone just let it go, that’s impossible. So apart from feeling like a close-minded git, I found something wonderful in today’s service. I found a challenge. At long last, a question that I could contemplate. Something that isn’t trivial or filled with meaningless 20-something drama. Something that isn’t tied to the people I know, or the feelings I may or may not have about those people. Perhaps those will be things that keep me going another day…but not today. It pleases me to know that there are still challenges out there. I always knew that, I was just waiting for the universe to come around.
…I’m starting to feel better already.
Today was truly a day of very little consequence. I have every right to say so. On occasion however, it is days like this that can keep you going. Nothing spectacular happened. The morning passed by with few irregularities apart from some apparent mental upset in the mind of a friend…but he was just having a weird day. But the day went on and everyone met my expectations of them. Sure my Computer Science teacher decided that he would teach from on top of a table for a few minutes, and randomly switched the side of the classroom he was teaching on but I’ve come to expect that from him. He has a flair for learning to except the unexpected. He encourages us to incorporate something unexpected into our lives from time to time, just to help us see things from different perspectives. It’s difficult though to introduce a truly new perspective into your life on your own.
Just because I change the seat I sit in in class doesn’t mean that I see things in a completely new way. It doesn’t change the way I learn or the way I interpret the lesson, at least not noticeably. All it does is change the amount of space my professors words have to travel through before it will reach my ears. Changing the color of the cup I use to drink my espresso doesn’t change the variable nature of said espresso, it only changes the way I have to hold it. The cup without a handle is a bit tricky to hold, I have to take care not to burn my fingers, but the espresso tastes the same. I cannot very easily change the way I see the world through my own sheer desire. I have to rely on other people for that…and today for just a moment someone came through for me.
I never saw it comin’, and all of the sudden BAM! straight out of nowhere…a hug. Something from nothing. I really appreciated that hug. Whether or not I needed it, or deserved it is another matter entirely, but I really appreciated that hug.
The rest of my day would continue on much as it had previously. I didn’t really feel any different, perhaps I smiled a bit more but it was most likely the consequence of confounding variables. So today I want to keep on living, not for the promise of more hugs or even more moments like this. I want to keep on living tomorrow because today I realized that yesterday I was wrong. Yesterday i felt mediocre…yesterday I felt inconsequential. In the grand scheme of things of course I am, but there’s just a small part of me that knows something. A secret, a secret that I don’t want to share with anyone. It makes me feel selfish not telling it. Maybe I don’t think anyone deserves to know, or maybe I feel embarrassed. I hope that I can find more validation for my secret soon.
It’s so hard for me to believe that people care, but not today.
PS I apologize for being somewhat cryptic, but sometimes the beauty doesn’t lie in the details.
It wasn’t until about 11:00 AM that I realized today was the 16th. This day of course means very little to most people, especially those of you who actually read this…does anyone read this? anyway…after 11:00AM my mood kind of went downhill. Nothing really happened…my mind just took a walk down the same path it has every 16th for the past 5 years…and I was left stranded in a sea of loss and exquisite depression. It’s such a perfect expression of death this path that I know. Death and I have a marvelous relationship. There is of course an overwhelming tinge of morbidity about all this blogging business. We are all making an attempt at continuing on for tomorrow…even if it’s just to write something else that we hope someone out there in the blogosphere will read. I tried very hard today to find something interesting to talk about. All day I was dreading getting online in anticipation of letting people down; not having anything uplifting to say. I couldn’t think of anything else to talk about except her story…so here goes.
I didn’t really know her that well. All I knew about her was that she played water polo and we shared the same name. Maybe it was wrong of me to feel a certain kinship with her because of that…after all it’s just a name. She went to my high school and she was a grade above me. I went to school that day 5 years ago, not thinking that day would be very special…kind of like how today was. As soon as I walked in the door I heard the people talking…and crying. We weren’t told for a few hours that anything happened, but in my school it took approximately 20 minutes for word to pass from one end of the building to the other. It was a freak accident…she was supposed to be better after they fixed her teeth. It seemed almost comical…like something only a morbidly comical writer could come up with. But it wasn’t a story, it wasn’t a fabrication, it was reality for that day and every day since.
I didn’t know how to feel for a while, I didn’t know her after all…but I cried for her nonetheless. That day in my gifted class, we talked about marcus aurelius and the fragile nature of things. We talked about being stoical and being content with change…I couldn’t stop the tears. However it helped me to deal with the pain, that and the hugs that I would receive at drama club that evening.
The day passed and I’m still here. It almost seems unfair. How does the universe decide who stays and who goes? She didn’t deserve it…and yet she’s gone and I remain. I didn’t do anything to deserve to stay here, so why do I get to go on? There were so many people that cared about her, so many that still miss her. I can’t explain why I still remember that day every year, but I feel obligated to.
I can’t find much of an uplifting message in all of this for tomorrow, but I am happy that I get to go on. I’m happy that I can say that I’ve been one of the ones left behind. That day, I didn’t really cry for her and I feel horrible admitting that. I cried at the thought of leaving all of my friends and family behind the way she was forced to. I know what it feels like to cause people that pain, I was immersed in it up to my ears and it is anything but pleasant. It was an experience though, and I’m grateful for it, even if it does seem selfish and somewhat twisted. I’m grateful that death doesn’t really scare me per se, and I’m happy that the 16th only comes once a year…
There’s 7 minutes until the bus leaves to go down south. If I leave now I could totally make it. Then I could get coffee…provided I can find someone to loan me 50 cents. I could see everyone and I could be happy…I guess. Lately coffee house hasn’t been cheering me up like it used to. But there isn’t anything else I can think to do.
My computer keeps talking to me and it’s creeping me out.
I would like to leave, I would like for things to play out as I visualize them…wouldn’t we all. But this is rarely how things go. I’m sorry that I don’t have anything more interesting to say. Today just wasn’t a good day that’ll all. Nothing really upset me, but nothing really went right. Ah well…I suppose that less than a week in I’ve failed to find anything to be happy about. I’m sorry to have failed you blog…ugh…
Okay so I know I like really failed…and I’m really sorry. It was never my intention to give up so soon. That’s why I’m here now, writing once again in the hopes that I won’t go on another 3 day hiatus any time soon. Given that I have been gone for some time, I think it only fair to muster up all the feel good life warranting moments that I can from the past few days.
So there’s this one person I know who always asks me if I’m ok. It’s almost like I have some kind of terminal illness (called depression) and he’s afraid of it taking over and becoming some evil monster that erupts from the depths of my soul in the middle of the night and devours what’s left of my happy playful spirit. In his defense I typically am a bit down at the times when we’re together, but it’s not his fault…it’s not really my fault either. It’s simply a consequence of circumstance. So last night we had the pre Vespers show. I was in a pretty good mood because I actually like Vespers, and anything pertaining to it, so I was happy to get to start off the season finally. So I see this person who has almost designated himself as the “guardian of happiness” and I get the usual, how are you feeling? He noticed that I seemed happy and he asked if I had resolved my problems from the past week…I said no. Gotten over them?….no. Forgot about them?…no. Just kind of living with them?…yeah I guess. This has been the pattern of late. Nothing is ever solved, and this problem won’t simply go away, not easily anyway. The moral of the story is that I’m glad there is someone who cares. I’m glad there is someone who wants to make sure that I’m at least living with my problems and not letting them control me. So thank you guardian of my happiness, thank you.
There is another more…obscure…devious…somewhat unsettling reason I’m feeling like surviving today. I almost shudder to think of admitting it to myself. I know that it’s quite wrong of me, but I can’t help but feel satisfied in knowing that they’re jealous…and that’s all I have to say about that.
Stolen glances…unspoken secrets…a yearning of the heart, these are the things that torment me, and these are the things that keep me going. It’s a paradox of reason and of morality, but I cannot help but feel a sense of excitement from it. I know that what I did was “right” in the eyes of a moral man, but I can’t help but feel a pang of regret every time I close my eyes and see what I pushed away. I like to think that in my dreams I’m seeing into the life of an alternate self. That there is another me who knows what it feels like, that there is another me who doesn’t have to keep these secrets. In the end I just can’t help how I feel, and my curiosity drives me through my days.
So I’ve decided that the thing I will write about today hasn’t happened yet. Tomorrow I get to go home. This is kind of a mixed bag of emotions for me. While I’m happy to get away from school for a little while, there are certainly aspects of my home life that I would prefer to not have to deal with. Thankfully I’ll only be home for a few days, so it will be fine. I am currently filled with a highly anticipatory spirit. I cannot wait to breath the free air, at least for a little while. There are times when I simply do not have the fortitude and strength of heart to deal with school anymore. In these times there is only one thing that I can do. Turn to my friend who I am going to name Phoenix, because I don’t know anyone named (or nicknamed) Phoenix, and it’s time to change this.
Phoenix and I have been good friends for about 6 years now. She’s one of my dearest friends, and I think I would be a good bit more insane without her in my life. The onset of a break from school means only one thing, spending time with her and pouring out my heart and soul to her. I can’t wait to have someone outside of everything going on here to just lay everything out to. Call it a protective method, call it self-preservation, I call it friendship. We are kindred spirits her and I. We share a love for the unknown and the unreal. Together we get lost down paths of speculation, and together we are brought back to earth to where physics applies again and we are constrained. With her I can be free to say whatever comes to mind. to not have to walk on eggshells or guard my tongue. She my external expression of my consciousness. Right now I can keep smiling because I know I will be seeing her soon.
while I have some more thoughts I might like to share…I’m going to keep them to myself for now. I’ll need more material over the next few days.
I don’t spend thanksgiving with my family anymore. For the past 4 years or so I’ve at least made an appearance as the special guest at my friend’s thanksgiving. The psychologist and I always have pleasant conversations involving the nature of our studies and argue about the nonexistent differences between Psychology and Neuroscience. So once again I found myself with the psychologist for thanksgiving. Wednesday we got pleasantly tipsy off of Guinness at an Enter the Haggis Concert where I’m fairly certain I scared a few people with my crazy random dancing. It had to be done. Then Thursday we had 3 thanksgivings in a row and I was thoroughly satisfied. Friday we went to the mall…
Let me preface this by saying that no, we were not some of those crazy people who decided to go to the mall at 4 in the morning to try to get the last whateveritwas left at the store. We just wanted to walk.
It was a verrrry cold day, but the psychologist, the little sister of the psychologists boyfriend, and I decided we would leave our coats in the car. I was very happy that I’m addicted to scarves later. The mall wasn’t so crowded that you couldn’t move without getting elbowed in the face, but it was still pleasantly packed with people trying to get some christmas shopping done.
We stopped in gertrude hawk, hoping to get some free chocolate. We asked the sales girls if we might be supplied with said free chocolate and were granted our request with one condition. They requested that we dance…and flail, specifically our arms. Needless to say these were perhaps the more amazing chocolate sales girls I’ve ever met. So we danced and received free chocolate and it was wonderful, perhaps only for the fact that we were required to dance for it.
We continued walking. Sometime after sunset, which occurred much sooner than it should have, a guy about our age walked up to us by the elevator. There were too many people trying to pile into it, and so we aborted. The artist was waiting there, as though he knew we weren’t going to fit in that elevator. He asked us if he could draw us. I was taken aback. Was this some kind of strange pick up attempt? If so it worked…for the moment and we followed him downstairs to some benches set up by a Nintendo display that no doubt was acting as a fantastically successful marketing ploy. He drew us all one by one. I went first, the psychologist, then the little sister. It was just a little sketch, and while I was intrigued by his “personal project” I couldn’t help but wonder why he was really so interested in drawing us. So he drew me as I stared at some poinsettias, though I was really more interested in the scruffy haired guy working at the Nintendo display. All of our sketches came out pretty well and we had fun watching him create little black and white versions of ourselves. He even included my scarf. We left him quickly not wanting to get to involved in each others lives, still somewhat skeptical of the artists motives. Maybe if he was better looking we wouldn’t have scampered away so quickly.
Thanksgiving will never be quite the same I fear.
no one reads this thing…
…ok that’s it. This post is probably more for my benefit than for anyone else….There ya go.
People pray on Sunday’s, I used to make quite a habit of joining them. On this particular Sunday I awoke with a very special prayer in my mind. Dante’s Prayer. I don’t know it’s true religious significance, or if there is meant to be any, but I have loved his passage, and the music it has been set to for many years. Today it is the music that I feel will carry over the hours and serve as the back-drop to my every day habits…I wanted to share it with you here. I have so many thoughts in my mind, and instead of trying to articulate them myself I’ll simply let the song speak for me.
When the dark wood fell before me
and all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone
I did not believe because I could not see
though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please Remember Me.
Then the mountain rose before me
By the deep well of desire
From the fountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and the fire
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please Remember Me…
Though we share this humble path alone
How fragile is the heart?
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars
Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take this crumbled hopes etched with tears
We’ll rise above these earthly cares
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please Remember Me…
Please Remember Me…
Please Remember Me…