(no subject)
My mind functions as if it is a mouth thick with saliva, choking on the words before they've even taken form. How is it that just as I leave the place I never wanted to be, I leave behind what I always wanted? I am jumping ahead of everything though. Ahead of the hurtle the size of my past pain, accompanied with uneasiness as my mentor.
Maybe it's me. Maybe there's a part of me that likes to fuck up every good situation that I ever have. The constant battle between head and heart, and till now either victor has the same spoil of war, with pain as a crown and solitude, loneliness, as a beloved kinsman and a hated rival. Can I say the words that can be my solace or my downfall? And the hope that damnably springs within me leads me to believe each time that maybe, just maybe, when I leap, I won't fall. That thought, as innocent as a lamb, can transform, within a shaking of it's tail, into a tyger. Can I fail again, and let the moment migrate away on the wind along with summer, and leave myself to wallow in my misery until the damned messenger returns, until it's vicious ice-cold grasp finally overpowers the leak within, until I finish the dream?
I know none of this makes sense, but it feels good to transfer my thoughts from mind to finger to key. If only I had the time to wish as much as I could that I could have the courage to kiss the fear good-bye, to lend courage to another, and a part of me can part our seperate ways so that mine could finely intertwine with another, like the briarthorn and the rose.
Post Script: If you are reading this Mia or Hedi, thank you for/sorry for stealing your photos. I'll accredit all of them to their skill and none to my laziness.
Post Post Script: Anyone who cares, the new Keane CD is very worth it.