impressions
notes to self:
· if i wasn't fully aware of this in every extent possible already, life can really suck when it wants to.
· if a box is shut, it is shut for a reason and probably doesn't want to be opened.
· and if i ever did come to a point later on where i ignore this and do decide to open it, i really shouldn't be prepared to find anything worthwhile or that would have the possibility of making my life any better of a place to be. it is up to me and me alone to find reasons like this -- not anyone else.
· idealisms aside, people move on. for the better or for the worse. and looking back, they probably don't regret it either.
.
connections, to me, seem like such fragile things. it is a black, bare wire -- stretching with all it's might to cross roads, bridges, oceans.. and sagging under it's own weight. and in it's wake, things happen. weather, much like time, erodes and degrades it until the black skin peels and wires stick out like metallic marrow -- singed and tangled. i must admit, i have a problem. when i lean forward and squint hard enough, i can see these discrepencies, and in their wake i feel that i am the one to blame for them and that it is ultimately my obligation to fix them. but frankly, i am tired of being a repairman. no one is asking me to do it, and more than anything the only reason i run back in my medic astronaut suit is because i feel; blindly and disoriented. it feels as if every part of my being magnetizes me back to my mistakes and refuses to let me go until they are taped up and twisted back into place. simply shutting the door doesn't work for me, and that very well may be one of the hardest lessons i will ever have to come to face.
.
.
letting go is so hard, because at the same time i fear that nothing i care about will stop me.
and if they don't care, then why do they deserve such urgent obligation from me?
this is probably something that will always be left unexplained. but god, i am so tired of being blind. i was always born with bad vision, and even with the strength that i have been born with in order to be able to muster it up, it doesn't seem like enough. i wish i could lie back, take a deep breath, and say "if i leave it alone, it will heal by the work of someone else's hands." but for the most part, wounds will always probably attract me to them until i am driven into madness.
· if i wasn't fully aware of this in every extent possible already, life can really suck when it wants to.
· if a box is shut, it is shut for a reason and probably doesn't want to be opened.
· and if i ever did come to a point later on where i ignore this and do decide to open it, i really shouldn't be prepared to find anything worthwhile or that would have the possibility of making my life any better of a place to be. it is up to me and me alone to find reasons like this -- not anyone else.
· idealisms aside, people move on. for the better or for the worse. and looking back, they probably don't regret it either.
.
connections, to me, seem like such fragile things. it is a black, bare wire -- stretching with all it's might to cross roads, bridges, oceans.. and sagging under it's own weight. and in it's wake, things happen. weather, much like time, erodes and degrades it until the black skin peels and wires stick out like metallic marrow -- singed and tangled. i must admit, i have a problem. when i lean forward and squint hard enough, i can see these discrepencies, and in their wake i feel that i am the one to blame for them and that it is ultimately my obligation to fix them. but frankly, i am tired of being a repairman. no one is asking me to do it, and more than anything the only reason i run back in my medic astronaut suit is because i feel; blindly and disoriented. it feels as if every part of my being magnetizes me back to my mistakes and refuses to let me go until they are taped up and twisted back into place. simply shutting the door doesn't work for me, and that very well may be one of the hardest lessons i will ever have to come to face.
.
.
letting go is so hard, because at the same time i fear that nothing i care about will stop me.
and if they don't care, then why do they deserve such urgent obligation from me?
this is probably something that will always be left unexplained. but god, i am so tired of being blind. i was always born with bad vision, and even with the strength that i have been born with in order to be able to muster it up, it doesn't seem like enough. i wish i could lie back, take a deep breath, and say "if i leave it alone, it will heal by the work of someone else's hands." but for the most part, wounds will always probably attract me to them until i am driven into madness.