SONDER
Kristian Patten
Sonder
n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.
Whose house is that? I think I know. Its owner is quite sad though It really is a tale of woe, I watch him frown. I cry hello. He gives his house a shake, And sobs until the tears make. The only other sound's the break, Of distant waves and birds awake. The house is lying, calm and deep, But he has promises to keep, Until then he shall not sleep. He lies in bed with ducts that weep. He rises from his bitter bed, With thoughts of sadness in his head, He idolises being dead. Facing the day with never ending dread -Unkown
I told her, in plain language, how I felt. And by that I mean I mumbled a poorly paraphrased and already cryptic passage from one of Yeats’s later poems. When she asked, “What was that?” I said, “Nothing. Nothing. It doesn't matter.” It mattered, of course. “Ma vie est usée. Allons, feignons ... ” On second thought, it doesn't matter at all. The fuel in the sun is finite. It must be. But I guess I won’t think that in L.A. I’m inattentive the way a husband is — confident there’s always tomorrow. Warm July wind in the downtown square where the U.S. bible industry’s located. Your hair blowing about, not saying much, the last time someone seemed happy to see me. - David McGimpsey
Where do I go When I'm feeling so lost and I don't want to be found? When I'm looking and listening for that peace in my heart. But I know I'll never hear that sound. Where do I go? Where do I go when I'm trying to laugh but all I can do I cry? I'm trying to keep on living because I'm not ready to die. Where do I go because the sun never seems to shine? Can you give me my life back' it's not yours, it's mine? How do I keep going, how do I fight this fight? I'm tired of feeling beat down, but I'm trying with all my might! Where do I go when my head hangs so low? Please give me an answer because I just don't know! Where do I go? Does it take very long For me to find that peace and a place where I belong? I need you to help me, help me to take a stand. I'm scared to do it by myself; will you please take my hand? Where do I go? Where do I go? Where do I go? Do you know? - Lisa Griffin
Sometimes I get lonely Instagram, Twitter, Facebook Always connecting but not connected Sometimes I get lonely Looking to the future Forgetting to be in the present Sometimes I get lonely Thinking someday, one day Never thinking right here, right now Sometimes I get lonely Phone's on, WiFi's up Waiting for it to buzz Sometimes I get lonely Just waiting... Always waiting... - Emily B
If I could turn back time I would hit Backspace all day, Id put on Caps Lock and SHOUT what I say. I'd use the whole Alphabet To tell you hello, Press seven Numbers Til you picked up the phone. I'd Tab through the comments I didn't want to hear, And use the Arrow Keys To drag your body near. I would Delete the harsh words I didn't mean to speak, And Insert the "I love yous" I before couldn't leak. I would use Ctrl to Keep reigns over my heart, And I would Escape lies That tore us apart. I'd Print out your photo And kiss it goodnight, Use the Calculator To check that we were right. I'd Paint you a picture of us, you and me, Then I'd hit Enter Just so you would see. Those are the things I would do in my strife, If only Backspace worked in real life. worked in real life. - Amanda
Rise Said the moon And the new day came The show must go on said the sun Life does not stop for anybody It drags you by the legs Whether you want to move forward or not That is the gift Life will force you to forget how you long for them Your skin will shed till there is not A single part of you left they’ve touched Your eyes finally just your eyes Not the eyes which held them You will make it to the end Of what is only the beginning Go on Open the door to the rest of it - Rupi Kaur