I have to be bigger than this...the whispers in the shadows can't get under my skin anymore. Or at least, I shouldn't let them.
Bless.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
I know that an emotion is real when I am surprised by it.
Odd, right? Like, I feel these tears slipping from my eyes and I think "what's this...dammit! I just had a feeling...what tha HELL."
It's not that I don't want the feelings, or that I can't feel them...I just spend so much time looking out for myself that when something does waft to the surface, I am caught totally unawares. I am too busy providing you (and more poignantly, myself) with the image that I could care less, but that would require more effort than it's worth, so I can't even be bothered to expend that much energy in caring even less than I already do...sigh I am already bored with this conversation...see what I mean? Well, you maybe get my drift.
Odd, right? Like, I feel these tears slipping from my eyes and I think "what's this...dammit! I just had a feeling...what tha HELL."
It's not that I don't want the feelings, or that I can't feel them...I just spend so much time looking out for myself that when something does waft to the surface, I am caught totally unawares. I am too busy providing you (and more poignantly, myself) with the image that I could care less, but that would require more effort than it's worth, so I can't even be bothered to expend that much energy in caring even less than I already do...sigh I am already bored with this conversation...see what I mean? Well, you maybe get my drift.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Sometimes I feel dead inside until a song comes on, it enters my body as easily as air, sustenance that consumes me, instead of I it. As it flushes my cells with sound and light, it becomes whatever I need it to be at that time. So many times it is the next breath that I need to take, the next step that I can't seem to put my foot forward into.
I could not be me without those notes, each singular one, and the whole that they create. But I could not be me without the silence, either.
This will never be easy.
I see my life in fragments. Physically represented by the no doubt thousands by now scraps of paper that I have accumulated, bits of writing that I can only start and never finish. Words and thoughts and phrases and rhymes and dialogue and ideas...all little atoms of my soul that I can't seem to bind together. I constantly feel like I need to find whatever it is that will make the notes a song, the words a story, the atoms a physical being that I can see. At least in my mind's eye.
And I think that I will...and I don't think that I have been searching in the wrong places...I think that more than anything else, I just need to be me and that's it. I am searching for a reason, and I like that. I think it would be settling if I wasn't still looking at this point.
I could not be me without those notes, each singular one, and the whole that they create. But I could not be me without the silence, either.
This will never be easy.
I see my life in fragments. Physically represented by the no doubt thousands by now scraps of paper that I have accumulated, bits of writing that I can only start and never finish. Words and thoughts and phrases and rhymes and dialogue and ideas...all little atoms of my soul that I can't seem to bind together. I constantly feel like I need to find whatever it is that will make the notes a song, the words a story, the atoms a physical being that I can see. At least in my mind's eye.
And I think that I will...and I don't think that I have been searching in the wrong places...I think that more than anything else, I just need to be me and that's it. I am searching for a reason, and I like that. I think it would be settling if I wasn't still looking at this point.
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