(no subject)
I swear, it's on a freakin' schedule.
Me an' melancholy are old friends. Every now and again I find myself overwhelmed by sentimentality and a vague feeling of regret, or maybe it's just remembrance mixed with a touch of longing. Then again, that's not a bad definition of regret, either...
I love music. Especially sad songs, though I can't really say why... Maybe it gives me a face and a sound to match with this pervasive sense of... something, I don't know. There are moments when I'm driven to clarity, when the enormity of it all, the vast interconnectedness that runs rampant in the world, the unfairness, the beauty, the passion and pain and the knowledge that it's all so damn fleeting... These moments come upon me and swallow me whole, and I'm left shaking from the overwhelming strength of that knowledge, like I can touch it, but it's too powerful for me to hold it, so you have to let it go, let it slip back down so you don't drown in it.
I may not be drowning, but sometimes I feel like I'm choking with no place to release that energy. There's a futility in being unable to express something that is ever and always so much a part of me. So much that I manage to put in my own way...
God, is the fear so strong? When did I morph into some sniveling, terrified, quivering mess? When did I become so much in doubt of my own capabilities, my own strength? Goddamn, I feel like such a stranger to myself sometimes. Occasionally, I miss that sort of fearless naivety that clung to me like a second skin. I'm sure it was annoying as hell to the rest of the world, but there was something ruefully admirable about it too.
That's it. Tomorrow is a new day, a whole new day for fuck-ups and successes. I will meet it valiantly, or at least not miserable.
Yeah. So take that!
Me an' melancholy are old friends. Every now and again I find myself overwhelmed by sentimentality and a vague feeling of regret, or maybe it's just remembrance mixed with a touch of longing. Then again, that's not a bad definition of regret, either...
I love music. Especially sad songs, though I can't really say why... Maybe it gives me a face and a sound to match with this pervasive sense of... something, I don't know. There are moments when I'm driven to clarity, when the enormity of it all, the vast interconnectedness that runs rampant in the world, the unfairness, the beauty, the passion and pain and the knowledge that it's all so damn fleeting... These moments come upon me and swallow me whole, and I'm left shaking from the overwhelming strength of that knowledge, like I can touch it, but it's too powerful for me to hold it, so you have to let it go, let it slip back down so you don't drown in it.
I may not be drowning, but sometimes I feel like I'm choking with no place to release that energy. There's a futility in being unable to express something that is ever and always so much a part of me. So much that I manage to put in my own way...
God, is the fear so strong? When did I morph into some sniveling, terrified, quivering mess? When did I become so much in doubt of my own capabilities, my own strength? Goddamn, I feel like such a stranger to myself sometimes. Occasionally, I miss that sort of fearless naivety that clung to me like a second skin. I'm sure it was annoying as hell to the rest of the world, but there was something ruefully admirable about it too.
That's it. Tomorrow is a new day, a whole new day for fuck-ups and successes. I will meet it valiantly, or at least not miserable.
Yeah. So take that!