See, I’ve got this wish, a silly little wish. And every night I close my eyes and try to imagine how a silly-little-wish-come-true would feel because I don’t know. There are many things I don’t know, like how to whistle a favorite song or how to walk without having to think too much about what to do with my hands; just wish this wasn't one of the many.

The thing about being scared is that it makes you a little bit smaller but a-lot more alive- alive enough to feel when you really don't want to because there are some things in life you never really get used to. No matter how many repeats there may be, no matter how much more stronger or how much weaker you become, the first cut doesn't make the second, or the third, or bazillionth one any more easier to swallow.

I know because I’m feeling a bit white today, the sort of pale-white feeling you get from spinning and spinning around like windmills on breezy days and it's not so nice having all those little circles feel like the first time every time and knowing that the only way to get a real good grip is to just let go.

-u.p.

what it takes to build up a world
and have it turning is no sunshine,
it's simple, enough to miss.
so tell me why you wait,
wait so long, so long ‘til it's too late
because it's sad,
so sad, to wake up one day
to a green sky and grass so blue-
not knowing what your thoughts look like anymore
and then maybe your smile
and then maybe you.
dry rains bring funny little feelings,
of nights that could of been
and million others never seen coming.

-u.p.

you wonder if too much convenience will make you forget what it is to struggle or how nice it feels to just sail with the wind and you want to believe in fairytales and happy endings with a pocket full of daisies, slip into a favorite memory, and stay on the line just to catch the last bit of echoes but no matter how many times you practice remembering, it never comes back, not like it was and you think you’re waiting but you’re spinning just like the rest of the world and you still cross your fingers, toes, hands, and everything you can when wishing a-bout, make clippings of all the places you want to see, all the things you want to hold, and every shade you want to become one day but forget how much time is used up saying next time next time next time then realize maybe we’re all just backwards people doing backward things and that the most not-so-nice people you’ll ever know might be the ones serving cheesy smiles at your very own table since you see bad things happen all round and get so scared, so scared- because sometimes it’s the possibility that hurts a-lot (it’s what the entire Mad Season does to you doesn’t it) so you dodge the gaze and camouflage when the spotlight strikes but then you wonder if too much convenience will make you forget what it is to live or how nice it feels to just be...

-u.p.

Drifting away
In Night’s cradle,

Mind’s resting
On the dampen feathers,

Wind’s stroking
Tangles of life,

Thoughts drowning
In peaceful sighs

Rain’s whispering
Midnight’s lullaby,

As I’m falling
Into dreamer's land...

-u.p.