there'll be plenty of new dreams

Today was no different, by any means. Yet something had shifted inside of me. It wasn't a particularly painful change, but its difference unnerved me. I could fathom no reason for it, not the slightest thing. But then again, though I was fairly good at noticing, I was inept in noticing why. I felt empty and barren, a cold mountain range of idle feelings. I had a few speculations to toy over but part of me didn't want to understand; wanted to be blissfuly unaware. I soon found out that was out of the question. Sure I could cram it to the innermost folds of my brain but its presence would still be enough to cause a certain tribulation.

There seemed one positive notion that stemmed from this inexorable change; I no longer thought in fragmented words and pictures. No, every thought had been transformed into a delicate phrase, almost worthy of novels. No effort needed to transform them, they sat, preconceived and ready.

Comments

teardas

this is the reason i broke up with him in the first place. because it was so much stress and it just seemed hopeless. i know that's a harsh word but its true. he's got so much on his plate and i dont want any more on mine. i have my own set of worries i need to take care of. but i cant just turn him away. the way he opened up to me...it litteraly moved me to tears. i feel his dispair, his depression. he has nothing. but i dont want him to have no one too. at the moment i feel thats all i can do; give him the comfort of knowing that i'm here for him, that he has me. contrairy to his beleifs he hasnt lost me. if he really had, i wouldnt have seen him yestrerday, or tuesday, or any times before that. we wouldnt have acted or talked the way we did if he'd truley lost me. his words stung because i felt his pain through them. his feelings soaking the words and turning them a different colour. i never told him to get the fuck out of my life, but it hurt to know thats how he fe

I wish I could

I'm a moon person too. But I'm too caught up in my petty securities and routines to wander the streets at night

neighborhood nights

I feel like somewhere along my life there was a shift. Suddenly nothing was for fun any more, it was all necessary. Suddenly I'm bothering with what others think, afraid to link any connotations I deem negative to my being. Why do I care what people I've never met, who'll forget they ever saw me, think of me; this obscure stranger in their peripherals. It's a warped sense of mind and place, seeing the space around me in my mind's made up ways. So I stray away from everyone, isolating myself unwittingly, turning them against me. Self fulfilling prophecies, I succeed in creating this reality. I need to break free from my mind's mentalities, with which negativity has propelled me. So I've started a new sport. I call it neighborhood night dancing. Donning headphones and heading out alone to the empty streets as the city sleeps, and moving to the beat. Letting it compel me towards a freedom long gone missing. Letting go is an art. Complete release is a tough

rude awakenings

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