S. M. Burgos (Creativity) : Journals

Journals

In my "Journal" entries I'll touch base a bit on myself and a bit on everything around me. Modern issues, politics, religion, schooling, just getting the chance to further voice my opinion in this crazy world. There will be times when you find me rambling on about person issues but at the end of the day these are just journals meant to please my own personal mind. I do hope you enjoy reading though, and that you leave comments.

smburgos

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All Journal Entries

~Journal 1 (12.18.11)

~Journal 2 (2.25.12)

~Journal 3 (3.1.12)

~Journal 4 (6.28.12)

~Journal 5 (12.13.12)
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My Little Scribbles

~SmarleneB~

3. 1. 12

I dont think I will ever change, because I have never found myself changing for me... to make me happy. I blaim no one but myself, for my unhappiness. If wanted to be happy, all I had to do was try. But I guess I stop trying a long time ago. I hope one day I dont find myself to be a coward.

2. 25. 12

No more talk of darkness, Forget these wide-eyed fears, I'm here, nothing can harm you. My words will warm and calm you. Let me be your freedom, Let daylight dry your tears, I'm here, with you, beside you; To guard you and to guide you. Say you'll love me every waking moment, Turn my head with talk of summer time, Say you need me with you now and always, Promise me that all you say is true. That's all I ask of you. Let me be your shelter, Let me be your light, You're safe, no one will find you. Your fears are far behind you. All I want is freedom, A world with no more night, And you, always beside me; To hold me and to hide me. Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Let me lead you from your solitude. Say you need me with you here, beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go too. That's all I ask of you. Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime Say the word and I will follow you. Share each day with me, each night, each morning Say you love me You know I do Love me, that's all I ask of you.

~Phantom Of The Opera~

2. 12. 12

He was everything to her. She was everything to him. They lived for each other, breathed for eac other. The day they fell was a day she gave up everythihng, money was a pointless need, hope was a long lost thought, and love... What was love to her any more. They lost what they had so nothing could last. He lost will but recovered to present day. He felt that loss but knew it all ended. He cried for her, but eventually those tears dried and he looked for another... They lost what they had, but realizing what both felt, did they really feel it at all??

12. 08. 11

So we think on the surface, of pain as a thing we want to be rid of. But what if it isn't. Maybe we hold on to pain for a lot of different reasons. It has become familiar, like an old friend. A punishment we can give our selves when our conscience tells us we've done something wrong. Pain can be like a lover, or holding on to someone who has left us. And so we cling to our pain, screaming for release, when really all we need to do is let go. We clam up because our pain is personal, it belongs to us, and we are NOT going to share it because that would mean... Letting Go

12. 08. 11

A world untarnished by anything, is not a world at all. But a life not lived is a life not noticed... Why Does Humanity feel that is what life is??

12. 06. 11

He Did not want it any more. The brush just did not have the same meaning that is used to. He no longer held the brush with the full passion he had always held it with, the coin was what mattered now; so he broke it in two. The paint just did not feel like it did. The colors once spoke to him, making him breathe a new breath with every color he blended, his mind seemed to disapate within the creases of every oil fold within his paint,but the coin was what mattered now; so he poured it all to earth. His art was what mattered to him, made him think in different ways, see through different eyes, speak with different meanings... The coin was what mattered now,

So he tore it and he burnt it.

12. 05. 11

Blue... A color that seems to breathe differently with every stroke he took, and on every canvas he painted Blue, he felt a lighter feel to what is Blue... A color the Breathes

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