He Said Something Before Morning

It's sunny today.

It's been sunny most days...

Haven't you noticed?


Horrible, horrible things have been happening.
Japer said it was allright to think bad things.
That sometimes thinking of the bad stuff,
can help us remember what the good stuff is.

There's only bad stuff most day's.



People are attracted to your appearance.

Once they see beneath your smile,
they all have to look away.

Your disgusting to them.

You think you know the truth,

the truth is,

there is no truth to be known.



You get lost by everything.

Find yourself for once.

Something is wrong with you.


Is that why they all told you to shut your mouth?
Was it because you talked too much?
Or did you talk too little?

You never talk to anyone anymore.



Outside of that bakery in January,

when Clementine told you to smile,

and the cold that winter was terrible.

It snapped hard at our ears.

And you wanted to kiss her,
because you knew she was the one too kiss.

And you couldn't do it.


Does that not show the type of man that you are?
Do all these things not evidence the obvious?



Look of what you are made.

Nothing.

Blood and bone. Matter and material.


A living organism, that has not yet taught itself to live.

A pathetic organism.


You've spent too much time in your life thinking of ideas.
You haven't done anything yet.

There's so much to do.

There's too much to do,
stay in bed today.

There will always be a tommorow.



Your a hypocrite,
and a liar.

You lie to yourself in the pages,
and to others in the eyes.

You write about how short it all is.
How life must be siezed!


Your words have always stated that tommorow would never exist.


Yet your always waiting for it.

Waiting for the next day,
and the day after that.

Like everyone else...


Your just counting down.


But even that cannot motivate you to stand up.


Remember once,
when Clementine wrapped her arms around you.

Kept you warm.

She was the only one that protected you from yourself.



She said,
theres nothing more beautiful than a man in pain.

You remember how you looked her in the eye's,

"Then I must be the most beautiful man on earth."



She loved you.
Out of everyone else.
Clementine was the one who did it truthfully.
She really loved you.


Now only if you can learn to love yourself.



Was there anything you really loved?

Out of all the little things you said you did.

Which one did you truly appreciate?

None of them.

Nothing.



You never appreciated anything.
So much was given to you.
You threw most of it away.

Were you too good to be helped?

Well,
look where its gotten you.

Nowaday's, you can't even help yourself.



Do you even love this house?

You spent hours on the computer.
Looking for the perfect retreat.
Something told you to run away,
and that was exactly what you did.

You ran away.


And it was the right choice, you know that.

This house saved your life.
It was justified.
You needed to be alone.

You needed some silence from all the lies.

Remember a long time ago,

When you were convinced that everything had been lying to you.

That even you were lying to yourself.



Clementine loved the house even more than you did.
She called it, "Our cabin in the woods".

And it was.

It was your seclusion,
as well as hers.

You took her by the arms,
and you did what you always said you would do.

You escaped.

She took you by the heart deep in those woods.

You know that.

Thats why you still can't sleep.

Her image never leaves your head.

It will never leave.
Its not supposed to.
And that could be a beautiful thing.
Or a tragedy.

You must be convinced that life is a tragedy.



Beauty in the time we live,
is a missconception

Nothing is beautiful any longer.
It's just efficient.


Efficiency is beauty.


So everything must be a tragedy.

It is necessary for everything to be tragic.


So that in the scarce search for love,
we may still be able to feel something.



Don't you just hate the time you were born in.

The transition of life into technology.

Hardly anyone uses there hands anymore.

Not even to hug.

Not even to say goodbye.


You were lonely since the first day.

Since the first day of your existence.

And when someone finally loves you,
you think it necessary to push them away.

You pushed everything away.


The woods around your home have poisoned your thoughts.

They whispered to you,
You dont need anyone but yourself.

That's not true.

You need everyone.



Can't you see?

These word's no longer have any meaning.

Clementine gave that gift to them.

And now she's gone.

And so is the life in your words.

They are as dead as you are.

Murdered by indifference.



You felt it necessarry to be indifferent.


You did it to protect yourself.

But you ended up being indifferent to only you.

Rejecting your own thoughts.

Forgetting to accept who you are,
and what you are.



Japer died too soon.

His time had come so fast.

Too fast.


Faster than you had expected.
It hit you like a bomb.



But you knew he would die.

Nobody could live his life to the end.

An existence so pure,
could not last for long.

But he was spectacular.

He was the writer you will never be.

The writer you never were.



He was the only person you ever listened to.

Everyone else talked gibberish.

Now there's really no one else to talk too.


Japer said goodbye the way you thought he would.
With a bottle to his lips, and a poem to salute his journey.

He died the way your heroes died.


He died the way you always wished to die.


Unbound and untied.
Free as the freedom you once imagined in your youth.

Your too old to see that freedom now,
even this forest is a prison of some kind.

Even these wooden walls that you could burn down in an instant.



Enough burning.

You've already burned everything else down.


This house is all you have left.




Maybe tommorow morning,

A new sun might shine.

A beautiful morning sun.
Like the ones you used to have back home.


And maybe like Japer said,
Tommorow the good thoughts will come.


The birds will sing a glorious song.
A true song.

There has to be truth somewhere.

And you can hear Clementines voice through the cold wind.
Telling you to smile.

To love,

because you won't get another day for it.


To breath the air in deep.

Because you are as free as the air that passes through your lungs.



To open your eye's and remember that poetry is not beauty itself.

It is only a reflection of it.

And that is what makes it beautiful.



And remember that your words are beautiful...

That has always been something that no one could take away.

They resemble everything and nothing of what you are.

That is why they are so special.


The sun is soon to rise.
You've been up all night, old man.

Let your words sleep.

Let mother nature write the rest.

Say goodnight to Clementine wherever she is.

To Japer somewhere in the sky.

And to all the friends and family that tried to keep you alive.


They did not fail.

Your a good man .



And there's one thing you've always known.



There will be a better day to die.