The Gate

Clown #13:

I'm running out of words. I m sorry
Got close to paper's end.
I guess it’s time to tell my story
Along with the letter I will never send...

My story? Oh, I’ve got things on my chest
My life’s a mess sometimes, my lane is fast
Sometimes it feels I’ll lose and come to finish last
While sometimes I know I AM THE BEST...

At first it was “A talent is too expensive”
Little did I know that rotten thoughts are too extensive
Searching for peace of mind I lost my sanity
I gained my 13 clowns and my “Insanity”

It felt like I hadn’t slept for years
I couldn’t smile; all I did was shed them tears
At night I was having visions of my fears
The biggest fear was dying with no one near...

After insomnia and fears I fell asleep.
My sleep was deadly, it was deep.
Then I felt I couldn’t wake myself
Forgetting that I had to save myself

“The only one to clean your room is YOU”
“No one can live YOUR live but YOU”
I didn’t know this then so I chose to hide away
And wear the same mask every day...

The mask was getting heavy
Just like a cargo on my neck;
I was tired of people’s envy
And so called “love” that stabbed my back.

Then it was “I’m THE WINNER”
No matter if I was righteous or a sinner
I stopped hitting them breaks
I had to do whatever it takes...

Then it was “I am fine”
And then “You’re mine, and I am thine”
They say a man in love is always blind
I knew I was a fool but I didn’t mind...

Then it was “I get out!”
I ran away forgetting that the earth is round
Not knowing that by chains I had been bound
The squeak of shackles was an awful sound...

Then it was “Rebel, rebel, rebel, rebel”
Because I knew, the silence was my hell
I burned the mask, I rang them bells
Rebelling against the lies they tell...

I was an iceberg, yes I was
I hate the windows, love the doors
I said “I’ll never sneak through open gates”
So I broke them locks and flew away...

So how do I define my freedom?
It’s not a tree, it’s not the kingdom
My freedom is in me, I am the KING
My words do sting, they are my wings.

The locks; the gates
The wings; the king
I’ll fly; I’ll fall
I’ll cry; I’ll sing

I am a freedom, I’m a riot
I am the power, fuck the verbal diet
I am a rebel, I’m a renegade
And now I’m free, so close them gates...

[cyb]
30.08.2008
18:10

Colors

Colors

[Dedicated to my Colors]

My Colors:
Black
Grey
Pink
Grey
Drop of color
Orange
Hurricane

Whole my life is a circus and I'm just a comedian
I live in a fast lane baby cause I can't stand median;
My friends did walk me to the promised land through ups and downs
I was alone in my pain and now I'm 13 clowns!

They call me crazy cause my weapon is my Spoken Word
And I never ever do what I'm being told.
Judge me like a book, forget them lies that you've heard
Cause I'm just a lone soldier in this stone cold world.

I have made it alive, in the darkest night
I have survived the war, and all the furious fights
I've been hungry for LIFE but all I did was starve
Now it's time to C-Y-B, because enough is enough!

From black to grey, From pink to blue
And sometimes sadness sticks to you just like a glue
Then it was grey again and I committed suicide
But then the drop of color put all of my worries aside

I've been through 7 transformations (what a magical number)
And seven colors of life still couldn't feed my hunger
U were a little star, I was a pitch black hole.
And if I call you the Sun, Then maybe I'm the rainbow...

...Aftermath...

[cyb]

27.03.2008
19:40
18.06.2008
21:33

Hurricane

Hurricane

[Current mood: Eric Bennet - Hurricane.mp3]

They say a Hurricane's what brings you back
But I've been deceased, my soul was black
And if the wind of change is what I need
Then bring me the storm, cause my heart bleeds!

They say that hurricane's the way to wash away the pain
But then what's pain if life is just a silly game
The game is really simple, rules are plain:
The heads or tales, no one to blame...

They say it's time to turn another page
It's a one man circus I'm alone on stage
Me and my girlfriend "solitude", we are engaged
I feel no pain, just emptiness and rage...

Sometimes it feels oblivion's my fate
And all I get is pain no matter if I love of hate
No matter how fast I run it seems I'm always late
I wonder why do I always have to wait...

They say that all I need is one big Hurricane
They say I'm stuck in a loop of my fast lane
But overlooking my own life I feel no pain
I don't regret a moment, cause regret is vain...

The circus, my virtues, they're vicious, The Stage
Them chains and them ropes, the prison, The Cage
The pain, the tears, struggle The Page
The friends and them foes, the mask, Back to the stage...

They say a Hurricane's what brings you back
But will it bring me the smile I lack?
And if the wind of change is what I need
Then I won't wait for it, I'll take the lead!

And breathe... no matter what you do, just breathe...
Inhale this morning breeze
They say the moment should be seized
Just carpe diem, just breathe...


[cyb]
12.06.2008
02:13
17.06.2008
21:51

Rebel, Rebel, Rebel...Entry for February 19, 2008

Renegade

[Rebel to be free]

The life is a fight, a war, a struggle

My war's inside I fight them demons.

I have been crowned, I have been cobbled

My life's a circus, stage, arena.

They say that to be free you must rebel

They try to make you even, make you blend

And I will never buy the lies they sell

This mind control some day will have to end

Call me a Rebel, I'm a crazy Renegade

Cause I don't want to play your "Prison" games

And I will never sneak Through open gates

I'll break them locks and fly away someday!

Sometimes I can infect you cause my thoughts are poisoned

And at times I spit the Venom cause my words are power

I'm not alone, at night I keep hearing them voices

They scream: When it rains it pours just like a verbal shower!

I know it seems I'm talking mess

But I spit them words to get them off my chest

I am a little mad I must confess

I am just what I am, and I will last!

Rebel, Rebel, Rebel, Rebel!!!

I scream them words, I ring them bells

And loneliness is still my hell

I want to LIVE and not to dwell...

The life is a fight, a war, a struggle

Of war inside I'm really tired.

I've been destroyed, I have been cobbled

Yet I've been killed, I've been admired.

[cyb]

19.02.2008

20:24

Renegade. Entry for February 17, 2008

They say renegade is a rebel. they say Riot is the only way to get to know with your true self.

no, I'm still not sad, it's the freaking weather...again. and this music. so powerful.

I'm not gonna talk about you today. not today... not me... not about you... but then again the only thing that sticks to my mind is the one i m not gonna talk about today.

today. it's so special isn't it? the whole thing. the whole concept. deeply in the depths of the very idea of "today". every day is a special one. but today is the most special day ever. and every day is like this. everyday you wake up in the morning with the possibility, with the opportunity to make the day special. then again you end up wasting almost every single day of your life waiting for something special to happen. waiting for someone to make something special about that day...

I will make it special. I am "today". I make today. I make it either special or routine. I make it the way it is. I'm not sad... It's just that freaking weather... I still breathe. the heart is still beating. them lungs keep pumping the air. and the soul is still evaporating from the body. I'm special... I might be just the same. the same as a next man, but i m special. in my special way. in the way i feel things. in the way i see them and in the way i understand and spit things. them words still don't obey me. they are still just as rebellious as me. I'm a rebel. and to get to know with me I will riot. I'll break the walls just like i have broken them chains. I have cut them ropes. I am free. I'm a renegade.

And this music... so powerful. at the top of the iceberg's tip. it reaches you out. grabs you and fills you up.

Concussion, May 25, 2008

...want to write... still don't know what, but i'll start off by just writing three full stops i guess. that's what i always do when i don't know what to write and after those dots, after this mark of pause, the mark of being unsure, the mark of sadness, even sometimes the mark of peaceful, calm joy and happYness i always write something, always get something off my chest.

...


...So what's on my chest now? not sure if i can express it at least now, at the point. it's a mixture, a mixture of thousands of ingredients. no need to start browsing through them, and no use either.
i-Cyb that's the name to my state of mind i guess. enough of cheap talk, let's get to the subject:

-so, are you here?
-u know i am.
-got any new words for me today?
-no i don't. i decided to try something new this time. i'll let you chose the word. pick any word that comes to your mind first.
-...ok... the very first word that came to my mind was "Concussion". don't ask me why, i don't know. it just came first.
-ok, let's look it up. the dictionary comes into play once again to make them things clear:

Concussion, from the Latin concutere ("to shake violently"),^[1] is the most common and least serious type of traumatic brain injury. The terms mild brain injury, mild traumatic brain injury (MTBI), mild head injury (MHI), and minor head trauma and concussion may be used interchangeably,^[2][3] although the latter is often treated as a narrower category.^[4] The term 'concussion', has been used for centuries and is still commonly used in sports medicine, while 'MTBI' is a technical term used more commonly nowadays in general medical contexts. Frequently defined as a head injury with a transient loss of brain function, concussion can cause a variety of physical, cognitive, and emotional symptoms.

Concussion can be diagnosed and assigned a level of severity based largely on symptoms. Treatment involves monitoring and rest. Symptoms usually go away entirely within three weeks, though they may persist, or complications may occur.^[5] Repeated concussions can cause cumulative brain damage such as dementia pugilistica or severe complications such as second-impact syndrome.

...ok, fair enough. now why do you think this word came to you? let's dig it up from the subliminal level.

-i don't know. concussion... have you ever been concussed for some time? have you...no... not today man. fuck them words.

finish it off for me if you want.
enough is enough.
enough of them friends and foes.
enough of pain
enough of words
enough of feelings
enough of rain
enough of storm
enough of the sun (sorry, the sun)
enough of sweat and blood mixture
enough of tear and smile mixture
enough of you
enough of me
it's damn sure enough of us.
e n o u g h . . .

stick a fuckin fork in it, i-Cyb.


. . .

i-Cyb, April 26, 2008

...Dear Lord!

...what can I ask you now? what's the point in asking anyway? everyone will get exactly what they get after all. me too. i will get exactly what i deserve, good and bad. so what's the point in asking, begging for something? if i deserve it i will get it, if not, then... i guess it is what it is right?
...but then again you created me 25 years ago. you created me the way i am and you gave me my destiny, my pack of opportunities throughout my life. you gave me my free will and you gave me my ability to wish. and i do...wish...
at the top of my heart i do...wish...
at the very tip of my soul i do...wish...
with all that i am i do...wish...

..it is what it is. i am what i am. i do what i do.

...it's been said, i m a big boy now, but i m still not grown.
guess it's right. i m 25 now father. quarter of a century it's been. feels like a bit more, but i can handle it, u know me. you are the artist that painted me as a picture, drew me as a sketch and let me finish it up. i am finishing it. i m drawing shades and specular now, i m not really good at drawing i must admit, but it still is what it is. i might not paint a good picture but i promise you i'll paint the one to be remembered.

it's so lonely in these streets. this town is so beautiful, so peaceful yet so lonely at night... just like me i guess. so calm here...


mess, confusion, conclusions, grief... they all are mixed now, a perfect mixture to... no, it's not the one i need father. i've been prescribed this mixture but i m not going to take it. i m gonna make my own mixture. they say it's impossible. fair enough. but still. i WILL make my own mixture:
love, happYness, home, firendship, LIFE, freedom, a little bit of confusion to make it spicy, a little bit of anger to lively it up and a little bit of pain to stir it up.

these words still rebel against me father, so i better stop writing them and give them a break. i am tired of screaming at the top of my lungs, i m tired of whispering with my heart, i m fed up with the treasury of silence. and i m eager to ACT.
it's always been that way i guess. it's been coming for a long time. the mixture is in the making. the only thing i am asking father is HELP me do it right.

...time to go home now. time to go HOME...