What If I Don't Want To?

I'm supposed to write this.  Something for the masses. And I find that all the words have left me of late.  I sit and stare at the paper and it just is.  And I am, but we are not together.  It would be tragic, if it could be considered remotely sad.  Its not like I don't have thoughts.  This morning I swam a mile and my head was full of things and now its empty.

Its always empty the moment the ink is ready. 

Time Wounds All Heals

There are those moments that are so overwhelming they cannot help themselves but to induce a deep state of mourning. Often it is nothing so tragic an event to warrant it, but a simple phrase or gesture, so seemingly benign as to completely and utterly discombobulate. Often I find myself without the wherewithal to go about business as usual. And so I retract and make myself small, an easily overlooked nuance.

This is not to say I go off into some deep dark cave and commence to wail about all the things I’ve lost, rather to the contrary. I find myself in these instances more often than not going about business as usual. A state which is not indicative I care less, just that I retract mentally and continue about my daily routines in a manner which lends to benevolence and commonality so as not to draw suspicions. I find it easier to process in a style that most would find, and have on the occasion I allow the observation, to find it jerky and to frighteningly out of sorts. I can move through the five stages of grief in as little as a day.

I am tragically adept at something no one should become so skilled at.

It is something I have come to deal with. Having skill sets no one wants. The irony in this is a priceless gem. Because the skills no one wants are almost always the ones they need – or will at some point, and so my advice is a hot commodity. I have the ability to see both sides of the issue clearly and argue the points for and against it. This lends logic to passion and passion to logic. Thus creating a conundrum of profound proportions.

And so I sit here, staring at this statement. A simple phrase which has no bearing upon my life or the rules and morals by which I gauge my everyday self –and yet the impact is severe. I am so unsure of what to do when I read this, the simple insecurity is a catastrophe in and of itself, and in the end the most I can do is hold steady and find myself amused. A heartrending find which no action I may take will undo or remedy and the best thing to do is merely ride it out. Breakwater.

I would like to tell the person that they are wrong or that they do not know of which they speak. However, I have no grounds to stand upon and thus no judgment to lend. So I find myself without a voice or a port in the storm. Time wounds all heals and if I wait just a bit longer the hemorrhage will ebb and dawdle or cease. And I have come to find I no longer mind the bleeding.

We Must Die To One Life

A fire burns
Water comes
You cool me down
When I'm cold inside
You are warm and bright
You know you are so good for me

With your child's eyes
You are more than you seem
You see into space
I see in your face
The places you've been
The things you have learned
They sit with you so beautifully

You know there's no need to hide away
You know I tell the truth
We are just the same
And I can feel everything you do
Hear everything you say
Even when you're miles away
'Cause I am me, the universe and you

And just like stars burning bright
Making holes in the night
We are building bridges

And you know there's no need to hide away
You know I tell the truth
We are just the same
And I can feel everything you do
Hear everything you say
Even when you're miles away
'Cause I am me, the universe and you
I'm the universe and you

When you're on your own
I'll send you a sign
Just so you know
That I am me, the universe and you
The universe and you
The universe and you

I am the universe and you

Flippant how we move through the moods. Seals in arctic seas, polywogging. I feel lost in the ocean. Content. At peace. Soothed by thoughts of a vast emptiness. Of how tiny and insignificant I may be in the scheme of the universe.
Maybe it is my ego in being overjoyed at having been a part of something in the first place. Or maybe just in thoughts that those who really deem me insignificant are even more worthless than I. Pathetic bastards...

I always think of this song when I think of my friends. My ACTUAL friends. Not my chums. Acquaintances. Random assortment of people who find me and my antics enjoyable.
The ones who care. People and humans alike. The ones who always see the dark within my glaring brightness. And love me for it. The ones who've gone to the dark side of the moon, and fought to stay with me through all the horrors I am capable of.
And I am more than capable of things you shudder to imagine. I do not admit this with glee, but a sense of sorrow. Because I am the monster other monsters fear. By right and with horrendous justification. Perhaps the reason I enjoy horror movies so much. I am motivated to find out how others react to these seeming "monstrosities."
My reactions are always different.

I am different.
Not better.
Different.
Not unique.
Just different. In a sea of silver lamia - the black one is no better. Has no unique qualities, abilities, nuances. Merely difference.

I do not
move dance shake bounce beat bop slide slip flip flop leap scamper skip meander wander walk run
through life.
I flow.
Kinesis is just kinesis.


I am filled with a dread sense of longing. A hard sorrow. And it is so funny, in an entirely ironic sense, because I think I've made a good decision on what to do with my life. I'm beginning school shortly. I'm putting myself whole hog into the acting/modeling thing. And all I really want to do is cry. Maybe dredge up the past too...

I seriously want to yell at you. Why weren't you a friend. Why weren't you better to me? Don't you know that when I said I loved you I actually meant it? Don't you know when I said I loved you, it was unconditional and I would NEVER EVER expect anything in return excepting ONLY your presence within my life?
Why was that so much to ask for?

“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.”

Anatole France