Bookends - Simon and Garfunkel HQ

Patrick Watson - Lost With You (Official Video)

Audrey Hepburn Singing Moon River

Don't Mention The War

 

 

 Cycles.

We live in cycles. Cycles and circles. In a routine. But I don't mean the day routine I mean the life routine. The one where you cry. The one where you laugh. The one where you meet. Where you meet places. Where you meet people. Where you meet moments. That's what I mean, a life routine. Our life is a cycle. A circle, where we live. In a life, where we repeat events. Where we meet again the same people. But with different eyes. Where we find the same songs. But with different rythm. Where we wake up in a new day. But with the same moon. But our circle is not perfect. Our life is not a perfect cycle. And we don't always walk at the same rhythm. Sometimes we run. Other times, we swim. And we sometimes drown. Sometimes. We try to fly. The imperfection in the circle. In our cycle. The difference of rhythm. The how thin. Or how thick, the circle is. Makes us notice that life change. That life is not always the same. That we can live a whole life smilling Or crying A life where at the beginning we are happy But at the end, we die killed by our own selves. A life where in a day, we can be in love. And at the next day, our hearth is broken in peaces. We dont pay attention to our cycle. To our circle. We exist on it, yes. We do. But we dont live. We try to make it larger. Or faster. Some of us. We try to paint it. Or to fill it with music Or to tattoo it with poetry. We try to make art. Some of us. We try to make art on our circle. Our cycle. Some of us. We suffer. Some of us. We try to make the circle shorter. We try to cut our circle. To end our cycle. In the pain. Our cycle makes us live Our circle makes us see. In the pain. Where we find more cycles. And more circles. We drown. We fall. We die. Some of us. We suffer. Our cycle is a pain. Our circle strangle us. Like a rope. Beginning, the way, and the end. The three steps of our cycle. We decide what kind of cycle to choose. Some of us do. Now, I paint. I fly. I try to let go. I try to find my way. I try to find my way in this circle. I fly. I write. I paint. I live. Is this the end? Am I just born? What path do I choose? What cycle? What circle? Am I alive?

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David Bowie - Modern Love