Wednesday, June 16, 2004
I had an exam today, I think it went well, this is good. Now only two more to go. I sometimes get frusterated with our lack of listening to people, cause we think what we have to say is so much more important. Self-centeredness has killed so many good things in our world. The media tells us how we are to look, what to like, who's important, and what we should think. And the scary thing is we buy into this so easily. We've become a culture that is controled by the media. We look the same, dress the same, and try to achieve this "perfect person" image. Scary really. By George, we've been brainwashed.
A really old poetic, but it has a good theme, just not so polished, but hey, one day a masterpiece will come from these hands:)
The Mirror
I stand before you, I've done this before,
I don't like whatt i see so I shut the door;
but, the reflection staring right back at me
is sad, wanting to be something she cannot be;
I've been brainwashed into believing the lie,
making me think I have to look lke a model or die;
thinking I'll never measure up to the unseen,
the rules in my head are saying, I have to be leen;
The cruelty of it all makes me want to cry,
I strive to be perfect but I give up in a sigh.
everytime I stare, you reflect back;
the image fo someone who's treading the track.
Track of attempted perfection,
sweeping many into signing for the mission.
we want to be something that we are not
we've forgotten that who we are can't be bought.
Too shallow we seek, for something not there -
it's what's inside, that should make us care;
the thing that counts it not our looks;
not somethign that can be found in beauty books.
Into our souls we've got to dig deep,
to find the jewel buried away and reap;
the wonderful blessing and great reward
of living our lives and cutting the cord;
The cord of perfection that doesn't exist,
that's covered our eyes with a deep pending mist;
who we are, shouldn't be in our cover;
it's under our skin where wer should work and hover
A really old poetic, but it has a good theme, just not so polished, but hey, one day a masterpiece will come from these hands:)
The Mirror
I stand before you, I've done this before,
I don't like whatt i see so I shut the door;
but, the reflection staring right back at me
is sad, wanting to be something she cannot be;
I've been brainwashed into believing the lie,
making me think I have to look lke a model or die;
thinking I'll never measure up to the unseen,
the rules in my head are saying, I have to be leen;
The cruelty of it all makes me want to cry,
I strive to be perfect but I give up in a sigh.
everytime I stare, you reflect back;
the image fo someone who's treading the track.
Track of attempted perfection,
sweeping many into signing for the mission.
we want to be something that we are not
we've forgotten that who we are can't be bought.
Too shallow we seek, for something not there -
it's what's inside, that should make us care;
the thing that counts it not our looks;
not somethign that can be found in beauty books.
Into our souls we've got to dig deep,
to find the jewel buried away and reap;
the wonderful blessing and great reward
of living our lives and cutting the cord;
The cord of perfection that doesn't exist,
that's covered our eyes with a deep pending mist;
who we are, shouldn't be in our cover;
it's under our skin where wer should work and hover