From the other side of a break-up, nothing seems to make sense. The first question is, ‘why’, but it is only the beginning no matter what the answer was. One day you are thinking you have this life in the bag, but as soon as they leave you, you won’t have time to fasten your seat belt.
MIDIMike
Just another day bouncing ideas inside the mind of a person with split personality disorder. Progress by committee.
MIDIMike
I stole the main idea from my older brother David. After his 2nd stroke and 3rd seizure, he would often lament on how smart, strong and independent he used to be. He would say he always though he was a man of steel, but he just turned into a bucket of rust. We are all one fall, car accident or stroke away from having our entire lives turned around in a minute. None of us are prepared.
MIDIMike
Do you ever feel like you are creating your own problems and challenges? Like things might actually get better if you just stop trying and got out of the way? Now rush a year’s worth of those experiences into one really BAD day.
Often you won’t have a solution or even a clue. To find your way back, it takes two.
MIDIMike
While not written from personal experience, the tragic loss and seemingly endless rush of memories becomes contagious. Unfortunately, we feel the duty to carry the burden of pain. We collect our own sadness and take it with us wherever we go. Sometimes, it is more painful to let go.
MIDIMike
While not written from personal experience, the tragic loss and seemingly endless rush of memories becomes contagious. Unfortunately, we feel the duty to carry the burden of pain. We collect our own sadness and take it with us wherever we go. Sometimes, it is more painful to let go.
MIDIMike
I offered you all I am
As you demanded the bigger half
I tried to keep them together, but cried until I could not laugh.
We own no jewels or treasures
Beyond the memories we made.
Loving life and nature’s pleasures, but soon even those will fade.
Brilliant colors turn to gray
Precious moments gone.
It all grows now in anger, tormenting everyday.
Hard, still to believe
Please and a simple thank you
Became words you could not say, another way to deceive.
I’ve spent half my life
Fixing my mistakes,
And half of it living yours.
Evidently I don’t know
What it really takes
To heal the open sores.
Brilliant colors turn to gray
Precious moments gone.
Now they grow in anger
Tormenting everyday.
What I have left
Is half of nothing.
Neither yours nor mine.
Years of hard work
And nights in disagreement
Didn’t help the bottom line.
MIDIMike
This is a small collection of ideas, really. Some phrase or thought that I repeated over and over until I could get to a pen and some paper. (Back in the day!). Some of the verses flow and are just fun to say. Observations and my favorite past-time of stating the obvious are scattered here. No real theme that I can remember. Paying it forward. Waiting for a future song.
MIDIMike
Maybe this is a simple celebration of diversity. In all things. I could never understand why the Christian faithful spends so much energy hating the very things their perfect god created. My parents just didn’t let us grow up like that. We never saw differences a threat, but as life from a different point of view and perspective.
MIDIMike
I’ve been told I am so lucky
Doesn’t seem that way
From my point of view.
My history with women;
Lost faith in mankind.
Just to name two.
The weight
The mass
The volume
The energy
Whatever you want to call it.
All forces applied can delight or destroy.
The heat
The bond
The tension
The gravity
You take one, you take all of it.
Love’s my precious gift or Nothing but a Toy.
When honesty becomes a plaything
Nothing but a Toy
It’s hard to trust in anything.
Nothing but a Toy
When honesty becomes a plaything
An old worn-out Toy
It’s hard to trust in anything.
I’m your little Toy.
I’ve been told that I am So Lucky
Doesn’t seem that way
From my point of view.
My history with women
And faith in mankind
Just to name one or two.
MidiMike 