Tuesday, September 14, 2010

From December 2006

Thoughts ravage and race through the labyrinth of my mind, weaving unchartable patterns that even the most seasoned veteran would be unable to navigate. Not knowing where they should go, what they should be doing and finding no exit. Only traveling for lack of something better or more productive to do. Why must they wreak such havoc without an outlet? Why must I continually deny the fact that I want to cry to the heavens? Yell out my frustration in order to actually feel, actually experience some form of emotion, instead of consciously blocking all sensory preceptors to avoid the impending hurt. Such is the plight of the tough exterior that I constantly front. Nobody really knows how I feel…or who I am. Do I even know? That is my decision, one that has taken its toll and forced me deeper into the shadows of my soul, further distancing me from the world that seeks to ease the constant confusion of everyday life.

Once, as a child, I felt that the world was laid at my feet merely waiting to be conquered, that I was perched on the edge of something truly fantastical. I could be and do anything, as the cliché goes. Now, as a pseudo-adult, I find that the world has conquered me. I am searching through darkness, running blindly into oblivion and not knowing where the final stop of the terrifying ride will be. What am I meant for? What do I stand for? Who am I? That’s the real question: who the hell am I? Am I the child/grandchild that, daily, makes my family proud? Am I the friend who always lends a listening ear? Am I the girl in the corner of the crowded bar that simply wants to disappear? Am I the One? I don’t think that I will ever know the answer to these umbrella questions that hang in the air around my aura. That is a fact that I have come to terms with, though perhaps not accepted. Why should I accept it? What is the point of accepting when you yearn for change? Something new, something unexpected, I want to dazzle! Shine on like an inexhaustible star that has not reached the end of its existence. One day…perhaps.

As for the present, I have come to terms with the darkness, with the unintelligible. I have embraced the banausic in life, content to live in silence and detachment with the outcasts of the world, a black sheep. Bullshit! Why lie? I have an inner restlessness which longs to be unshackled, to roam and run free. I want to stand on the cliff of life as I did as a child and feel the breeze caress my skin, running light and gentle kisses across my face, sweeping invisible fingers through the hair that whips around my head, embracing my body with desire and utter faith. Elevating the beauty that lies beneath the surface of my skin…waiting, dormant. That’s the truth of the matter. It beckons me and I ignore it. Why? Fear of the unknown, unwillingness to change, fear of what those around me might think. All of these and more stop me from standing on that cliff and basking in the whispered breath of God.

I crave the release that is waiting just beyond my reach. Inches away from the tips of my fingers lay the answers to all of my questions, the truth to what I seek. If I could only stretch, aggrandize, my inquiries far enough, maybe I could grasp that which is just past my perception, snatch it to my heart and hold on for dear life.
From December 2006

As the black clouds roll across the sky, like demons chasing the glittering sun, I watch the expressions of those on the street change to grotesque grimaces in abhorrence of the inconvenience that this presents to their day. They are unable to embrace the beauty that such a day brings to the world. The ability to sit inside and not feel forced to venture into the winding streets that constantly confuse.
Through sipping my coffee and trying to decipher the German-language newspaper that lies in front of me, I casually glance out the window during intervals of my misunderstanding. I notice that the street is slowing emptying under the torrents that are now pouring down. Of course there are those few individuals who brave the storm and welcome the coming downpour. It is these people whom I envy. Why are they able to dance in the rain that cleanses their souls? How are they able to forget their cares and allow their bodies to become saturated with such a gift? I want to be one of these people…no, I yearn to be one of these people. Instead, I have become one of those who run from the rain, the nuisance that the storm presents. I no longer welcome the fun associated with puddle-jumping that I did in my youth. Now, I think of the after-effects that jumping in said puddle would have on my life, such as wet clothes and shoes and having to do laundry. When all along, I should have been running straight at that puddle and diving in.
As this thought runs through my already cluttered mind, I turn my gaze back to the paper in front of me and feel a tear slide slowly down my face, dropping into the milky-black substance that fills my cup. The ripple effect takes place and seems to flow into eternity, or at least to the edge of the mug. As it collides with the yellow walls, it folds back on itself and disrupts the beautiful, perfect circle that my lone tear had created. Once again, the world makes sense in regards to outside influences ruining what is stunning.

It's Been So Long!

I'm going to start this thing up again. I feel that I need to...a compulsion. I've got some older stuff that I'll be posting and, eventually, I'll come up with something new to put on here. I'm in a creative mood, so who knows what will appear!! Yay for new beginnings and starting again.