The Streets - I never went to church (Guillemots Remix)
I never went to church, just get on with work, and sometime things will hurt, but it's hit me since you left us, thats it's so hard not to search. if you were still about, i'd ask you what I'm supposed to do now, I just get a bit scared every now and then, I hope I made you proud.
I still walk into churches and chaplaincies, and along the polished wooden pews, I hope to find Jesus. Sometimes I imagine that an angel will be sitting there, and just hold my hand. My mind is slower now, and I more utterly tied to this earth than I've ever been. Sometimes they walk up to me and ask my name, and I hope that the angels will mutter in their psyches and send me messages.
Sometimes I stand on the rivers edge, or suspended upon the ceiling of a city in a balcony, inebriated, untied to my earthly pursuits and watch the angels dip and weave amongst the skyscrapers, and sometimes I fly with them enshrouded in their peace.
I want to go home
Tears hang suspended in the past, and I'm a little scared sometimes. "Do you hear voices in your head sometimes Pippa?" he asks me as his pen oscillates between his fingers. I want to tell him my own voice has never been mine, that I can feel them constantly, watching, fighting, inspiring.
I miss my brilliant mind, the clarity, the understandings, the wisdoms and their guidings. I want to run through my life cazy and confused and utterly at the mercy of the destiny they whisper in my ear while I sleep.
I wish you could dream with me. Chaotic, and complex in their symbology, alien in their dreamscapes and controllable in the lucidity.I can write letters to myself now, and as my eyes close for a brief second, dream memories contort and conjoin in a picturesque panorama of my subconcious.
I remember how deeply the glass cut into my wrists, and the realisation I could go home.
Silly girl, you'll have to come back again you realise? You'll have to start your journey all over again, the same pains, the same challenges, until your lessons are learnt. Do you want to start again?
Maybe nostalgia is in the air, maybe a sense of coming. I just want recognition in anothers eyes, I want familiarity of soul and I want to be able to walk through shopping malls without panic or fear.
I feel people all the time, which is why I hate public places. Sometimes someones pain will slap you in the face, as they jolt along on faded hessian on some train journey to their nowheres. I want to hold, and touch, and release, but I look out the other window and pretend I don't know what their feeling.
I'm buying some paint and canvas tomorrow. The world no longer is filled with words and stories, or if they are, I don't have the strength to tell them anymore.
I want to transmute crazy energy and paint my future in incoprehensible vortexes of colour.
If you see my colours girl, even though your so far away, will you feel me then?
He still stays constant in my life, my adult child.
I still want to make you proud
I wonder if through all this scar tissue of reality, the divine can still penetrate my soul.
I never went to church, just get on with work, and sometime things will hurt, but it's hit me since you left us, thats it's so hard not to search. if you were still about, i'd ask you what I'm supposed to do now, I just get a bit scared every now and then, I hope I made you proud.
I still walk into churches and chaplaincies, and along the polished wooden pews, I hope to find Jesus. Sometimes I imagine that an angel will be sitting there, and just hold my hand. My mind is slower now, and I more utterly tied to this earth than I've ever been. Sometimes they walk up to me and ask my name, and I hope that the angels will mutter in their psyches and send me messages.
Sometimes I stand on the rivers edge, or suspended upon the ceiling of a city in a balcony, inebriated, untied to my earthly pursuits and watch the angels dip and weave amongst the skyscrapers, and sometimes I fly with them enshrouded in their peace.
I want to go home
Tears hang suspended in the past, and I'm a little scared sometimes. "Do you hear voices in your head sometimes Pippa?" he asks me as his pen oscillates between his fingers. I want to tell him my own voice has never been mine, that I can feel them constantly, watching, fighting, inspiring.
I miss my brilliant mind, the clarity, the understandings, the wisdoms and their guidings. I want to run through my life cazy and confused and utterly at the mercy of the destiny they whisper in my ear while I sleep.
I wish you could dream with me. Chaotic, and complex in their symbology, alien in their dreamscapes and controllable in the lucidity.I can write letters to myself now, and as my eyes close for a brief second, dream memories contort and conjoin in a picturesque panorama of my subconcious.
I remember how deeply the glass cut into my wrists, and the realisation I could go home.
Silly girl, you'll have to come back again you realise? You'll have to start your journey all over again, the same pains, the same challenges, until your lessons are learnt. Do you want to start again?
Maybe nostalgia is in the air, maybe a sense of coming. I just want recognition in anothers eyes, I want familiarity of soul and I want to be able to walk through shopping malls without panic or fear.
I feel people all the time, which is why I hate public places. Sometimes someones pain will slap you in the face, as they jolt along on faded hessian on some train journey to their nowheres. I want to hold, and touch, and release, but I look out the other window and pretend I don't know what their feeling.
I'm buying some paint and canvas tomorrow. The world no longer is filled with words and stories, or if they are, I don't have the strength to tell them anymore.
I want to transmute crazy energy and paint my future in incoprehensible vortexes of colour.
If you see my colours girl, even though your so far away, will you feel me then?
He still stays constant in my life, my adult child.
I still want to make you proud
I wonder if through all this scar tissue of reality, the divine can still penetrate my soul.
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
traceelement:
lol my brother saw the picture and seriously thought I was wearing makeup and that I hadn't actually photoshopped the image lol. glad I look freaky in it though, that was the point.
helly:
Hi there, just to remind you that deposits for the tix to SGAU are due by the 15th of April