Bob Dylan
- Don't Think Twice, it’s Alright (mp3)
I can't
hear you anymore / I'm a-thinkin' and a-wond'rin' all the way down the road / I
once loved aw woman, a child I'm told / I gave her my heart but she wanted my
soul / Don't think twice, it’s all right
Sometimes
and just like nothing we refuse to be in front truth or because we refuse to
appear in the other’s eyes like what we really are, we’ll go very deep in our
problem-solving of the situations and thus, we tend to accuse the rest of the
world except ourselves and the result… we are allowed to say the entire things,
nothing and anything about people while avoiding looking to ourselves in the
mirror.
For some
people, it’s a whole life to elaborate a lie and believes it while days are
passing; they’ll make this a topic, a rate in a daily rhythm.
While the
do it and for all this time, I tried to justify all my amazing dispersion. I
give them the form of freedom never reached, and it’s just here being your
existence intervenes in my life, and known after all this time, I have the
impression that I was born to know you and feel a physical intermission drawing
the daily activities of my body compared to my feelings, isn't this my greater
freedom?
This
freedom compared to you who goes until explaining my behaviours towards the
others, my family, colleagues, friends and the rest of the world which I cross every
day or those which I had the pleasure to be familiar with during my travelling.
I believe that I stopped up making efforts for the eternal act to bring me
closer to the others, trying to run away this loneliness that I cherished so
much. I wouldn’t cover up myself with this need that I feel each day and
particularly each night, this needs to concentrate my efforts on my most
dealing, you know, maintaining my liberty differing to you. You will think that
I do too much in this way and you’re right. The things must be treated in
another manner, but well, I’m sure you have a big part of responsibility and,
on average, a large number of regrets while I give you this value with the way
that after I’ll see on your only this value. I get tired of trying to don’t see
you or to listen to you, you worsen the things by treating them with your low
manner, you think that you know the whole thing, but actually you know anything
at all, you think that you are clever while I always made deceive your
perspicacity, altogether, you are very far from my truth which you have
wrongfully conjectured from the beginning.
But you
know, in differing, I understand you perfectly. Note that for me all the words
which you wrote are only a bubble of air, pitiable and absurd in their message,
but, I wouldn’t say there aren’t beautiful as you want them to be, just soft
and unimportant, the truth is elsewhere, where I carry on my thoughts and I
inflict myself beliefs. This alchemy of my thoughts of you are like that
manner, your correlation with your white page on which you try to adjust your
despaired spirit. On this white page, you create a life, you extend your
loneliness with your manner as for each time you realise that you are roughly
surrounded and which you realised, tardily, of this fact which balances your
life between your literally literary hopes and this disappointing reality…
wounding?
And it is
because of that and these, you are some caught with me, perhaps with my memory
which you don’t want to wipe out but just to make fun. This trick that I find
frankly remarkable. You’re hiding your sadness (not for me in any case) by
replacing it with your laughter, mockeries and these foolish smiles. Because,
as you know, it is well, if you laugh, the whole world will laugh with you, you
will see even wisdom teeth. But on the other case if you cry will have you the
fatal feeling that you are alone in this world, and it’s because of that I told
you that I understand you better than you think, and since more than one year,
it was so important for me to make sense of your life as I used to do
involuntarily.
Finally,
bringing to a close, all that I wanted to say, without being too negative nor mystery
maker, it would be enough for me to think that if it sometimes happened to me
one day to fear my loneliness, it would be enough for me to think of you.
Poetry and fantasy are excluded. You can pass my past.
Please run
past my funeral: Bob Dylan – Don’t Think Twice It’s All Right
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