I still have the purple ribbon

I loved you in the worning, our kisses deep and warm, my hair upon your pillow, like a sleepy golden storm. Yes many loved before us, I know that we're not new, in city and in forest, they smiled like me an you..But lets not talk of love or chains, or things we can't untie. Your eyes are soft with sorrow, hey, that's no way to say goodbye.

A new page has been turned. A bright new seedling has sprouted through the ashes of an old mistake. A new dawn, a new begining. The beautiful bliss when walls are broken down. I can't say too much, can't place these feelings of euphoria into suitable molds that will carry them to poetry. I can't convey the feelings living deep inside. I'm confortable beside you. Doing thing's I've never done, with ease. But there was something lacking. I can't explain it. Always searching too hard, I smother the budding emotion. But I was content regardless. I can't understand why I was so afraid. Why it was so easy. I can't say much more. Just that this is the start of something new, and I coudln't be happier.

Even if it is just before the end..

Comments

Manuel Leonardi said…

i am not good enough in english to understand details in your text. but i like my painting serve as illustrate your feeling. manuel leonardi

October 26, 2009 at 2:12 PM

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 ...

zip.

I dread human contact. I absolutely hate it. I hate having to think of something to say, hate having to feign interest and sympathy. It's a stressful situation and I don't even know why. I guess it's the culmination of all my antisocial tendencies over the years. Once you get into a habit it gets harder and harder to change as time goes by. I've always been the shy one, the quiet one. The exception is my friends. I'm talkative and at ease with the people I like. I love my friends and I love having friends, but I dread making them. It's like it's too much effort to be worth it. All the awkward getting to know eachothers and stuff, I'd rather just avoid it completely. But it's getting me into trouble. People think I'm arrogant, too good to talk to them. Or that I hate them. Such is the case with my mother. She's been living at her parent's house, and so I rarely see her. That suited me fine, because less interactions the better. So whenever...

Home

I looked back at blog entries, and even though the subject matter was less than pleasant to be reminded of, it was still good, I'm glad I have written reminders so I have points of reference to gauge my growth. And I've come far. I often feel like I've had three stages in my life. The first was with Brent, and though I was a newborn in love's eyes, I soon grew to an extremely old age. My heart was always cracked and my spirit became dulled. I became clogged with darkness, became tired and dragged myself through the days. But I never stopped. I stubbornly sacrificed myself each day for someone whom I thought it was going to help. I was wrong. The first day of my second stage was the day I stopped caring about him and finally focused on myself. I was free, and I was drunk with it. Too drunk. I dove into something that made me happy, too quick. I soon realized there were other ways to get hurt. this stage wasn't that defining, though I began to learn to take things as ...

rude awakenings

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