A Little Mud Hut Called Home

Every day, its always the same, its always the same thing
Get up, get to work, gotta make your way

But hey, its got me wonderin', if someday, everything could chaange

And we could go, and move real slow, cause I kinda like the idea of a little mud hut called home

And now, tell me how, tell me how to be,
content always going not knowing which way to go

Even so, I'd like to hope, that someday, everything could chaange

And we could go, and move real slow, cause I kinda like the idea of a little mud hut called home

We could go, and finally leave this ever moving, never stopping, self evolved, self involved mediocrity
And we could know, and finally see, that fast, fast, fast, fast isnt the only way for humanity, to be...

And we could go, and move real slow, cause I kinda like the idea of a little mud hut called home 

Does this make me...

Does it make me weird that I like stale cheesies and cold Kraft Dinner? There's something about those certain fake cheese products that just tastes better the day after. I dont mind if it does make me weird, because I can accept the truth, but really, they do taste better.

Does it make me a nerd that I like to play certain computer games? I dont think so. Since when is Zelda a nerdy game? Warcraft III is pushing it, yes I understand, but still, lots of people play it! And okay, if you look at my youtube account, it will recommend certain cheats for Zelda (because I have looked up one or two things) but just because I looked up one or two things really doesnt make me a nerd right?

I dont think its wrong to try to feel justified here. Work with me.

Pickles go great with a grilled cheese sandwich (ketchup naturally fits in there too). So, why not grill the pickles right in?

When I use a knife and fork, I dont feel the need to confine them specifically to one hand. I say let's have fun and switch things up. I will cut with my right OR left hand and do the same for eating.

I dont have icons on my desktop. I see no need to justify this.

Some people find it odd that I carry bandaids in my purse/wallet. I carry batman bandaids and also bright colourful ones too. What if I meet a kid with a boo boo? What if I meet Gerard Butler and he has a boo boo? I bank on the side of safe rather than sorry.

I like the greyhound. Even though it takes me three days to get anywhere worth getting and there have been some sketchy incidents in the last year, I still like. You get a chance to see the country, meet interesting (sometimes weird) people, and you get to learn all the different ways to overcome being uncomfortable on a greyhound as you try to sleep.

It's not weird to sit down on the side of the street corner and play your guitar for money. I think it adds a nice ambiance, and I really dont care if 3 days ago somebody spit, smoked or wiped their shoes on that same spot. I can always wash my pants.

I like snow. A lot. Only people from BC (where they dont understand the joys of 8 months of snow) dont get this.

I'm Only Second Hand Smoke

I've been demoted 
Not that I mind, I dont need the control 
I'm second rate 
It was my turn to fly, now I'm stuck on the ground 
I've been forgotten 
Like a wave passing by, I'm now the foam on the shore 
Not so important 
There's none like humilty without the humiliation 

I was once the beer, now I'm a broken bottle 
I once was the mirror, now I'm a shattered reflection 
I expressed the tear, now I'm dried up and done 
I once was the fear, now I'm hollywoods re-run 

Who wants the second-hand smoke, 
when the cigarette has a better choke? 

How Do You Tell the World?

how do you tell the world
that you feel like
just another
broken beer bottle
suffocating under the downpour of depression,
forgotten in a lonely alley,
scattered and drowning in the crushing raindrops?

how do you tell the world that 
you 
cant
handle
the only attention that they give you?
the kind that beats you down and bruises you
if only to serve for temporal amusement?

how do you tell the world
that you need love,
that you need hugs,
that you need more than you can accept
from the ones that 
you 
cant 
trust?

how do you tell the world
anything
when you cant be sure you make sense,
when you are uncertain as to whether or not
your timid whisper will reach higher 
than the gum on the shoes of the begger
sitting outside the local corner store?

how do you tell the world
what do you tell the world
can you tell the world
anything?




...





would they listen
to someone
who doesnt seem to have any 
selfworth? 

my own one man show

strike down the gear, tear down the posters,
no more music to hear, its time to go home

when we
pack up the show, get ready to move on,
the neon signs dont glow, they lock the doors up

and well
when the rhythm dies down
the words dont resound
and it hits the floor
and the ringing ears stop
and the heart rates drop
you're left wanting more

then when the truth hits home
like i've never known
how close home could be
when its all said and done
this life isn't as fun
as the devil told me

because
at the end of the day,
when you recognize you cant keep pretending
and you're left alone
and you realize you're the only one standing
you come to conclusions
that make you the deluded, and so now you know

wherever I am, I'll be, forever, my own one-man show

Teach Me

My heart is glad, that you are my Father
Adopted to you, as sons and daughters
And Your love endures, as You said it would
And my heart sings...

Teach me, the sound of Your voice
With the faith to respond, to love you...
Teach me, to follow you close
With the faith you bestow, to love you...

My heart is glad, to serve you as King
Forgive the times, that I am stubborn
With a humble heart, may I come to you
And my heart sings...

Teach me, the sound of Your voice
With the faith to respond, to love you...
Teach me, to follow you close
With the faith you bestow, to love you...


Sometimes I feel like if I really knew the sound of God's voice, I wouldnt cry. I wouldn't be worried about stupid things and I wouldn't screw up. How can you, when you've heard the most beautiful thing in the world?

God knows how stubborn I've been.
Am I simply too stubborn to hear God's voice?
All I know is that my heart yearns for the day I'll be in heaven.
Am I trying to look too far ahead?
Am I trying to ignore the present?



Guilty as charged.

Teach me, the sound of your voice, with the faith to respond, to love you...

Relationship Status: Complicated

Why? 
Why do you do that? 
I wish you would stop waking me up to my depression. 
I was really rather content sitting in my blissfully ignorant state. 
Really, I was coasting along quite nicely before you knocked on the door of my emotions, 
with each thud on this 
hollow tin heart 
knocking off centuries of dust that has happily taken up residence there. 

Why? 
Why cant you just quit? 
I wish you would just leave me where I was at. 
I was able to have a somewhat functional bedtime before you came and shattered my peace. 
Really, now I am up from dawn to dawn, sitting, thinking, 
praying 
that your love would stop at mediocre. 
Why, why -- no how-- how can your love be so deep? 

And now -- now I am at a loss for words. 
Do I pray that you continue to throw my life in the air, tossed and blown in your steady direction -- which I definately cannot see? 

Or do I pray for a life unsettled, a life reminicent of a pebble on the edge of an unused path? 

Do I prepare for this constant churning-- 

do I prepare for nothing at all? 

Can I handle a life of rollercoasters? 
Can I handle a life of mediocrity? 



You are
SO
complicated.