(no subject)
i'm feeling restless lately, and in somewhat of a prolific way, so expect lots in the future. right now i can't decide exactly what it is i'm looking for, but writing creatively seems to be the result and i'm enjoying it. a lot of the stuff i'm writing about isn't easy, but that's nothing to not writing it.
lots of questions flowing through my head, a million thoughts of life and what i'm meant to do in this one. have i made the right choices? were there even the right choices to make, or were there even any wrong ones? by reliving the worst emotions, am i really falling, or am i standing solidly, maybe moreso than sidestepping? i know it's all a process, we must burn to heal to get the chance to be burned again, but when in this strange cycle are we actually confident of our footing in this world? as we're healing, recovering from a past burn? when things are going well, and we're often ignorant of the fact that we're about to get burned? or as it's actually happening, when the flames are licking our flesh? i wonder if we ever learn to stand at all...
and if we don't, then is that okay? should that even be something that has any pull whatsoever? should we try to savour every moment of torture instead of fleeing from it like the plague? if healing is the door to progression, then would the degree of healing required actually get us further in understanding?
it's all pretty damn confusing.
i'm not saying i'm going to go out and try to get as hurt as possible, but, in the end, would it be more successful than the way i live now?
anyways... a new little twist on an old thought:
the cold blue steel cinges my hand
as thoughts of you have my mind
it shines with the light of this cigarette as your eyes once did
it's curved ridges remind me of your frail frame
and how it felt to hold you close when the winter's chill was biting and fierce
pull, click.
i'm ready to be warm with you again
you're only one cold painful moment away
and i can think of nothing else.
i think i'll use it for inspiration for my next short story in my fiction workshop.
lots of questions flowing through my head, a million thoughts of life and what i'm meant to do in this one. have i made the right choices? were there even the right choices to make, or were there even any wrong ones? by reliving the worst emotions, am i really falling, or am i standing solidly, maybe moreso than sidestepping? i know it's all a process, we must burn to heal to get the chance to be burned again, but when in this strange cycle are we actually confident of our footing in this world? as we're healing, recovering from a past burn? when things are going well, and we're often ignorant of the fact that we're about to get burned? or as it's actually happening, when the flames are licking our flesh? i wonder if we ever learn to stand at all...
and if we don't, then is that okay? should that even be something that has any pull whatsoever? should we try to savour every moment of torture instead of fleeing from it like the plague? if healing is the door to progression, then would the degree of healing required actually get us further in understanding?
it's all pretty damn confusing.
i'm not saying i'm going to go out and try to get as hurt as possible, but, in the end, would it be more successful than the way i live now?
anyways... a new little twist on an old thought:
the cold blue steel cinges my hand
as thoughts of you have my mind
it shines with the light of this cigarette as your eyes once did
it's curved ridges remind me of your frail frame
and how it felt to hold you close when the winter's chill was biting and fierce
pull, click.
i'm ready to be warm with you again
you're only one cold painful moment away
and i can think of nothing else.
i think i'll use it for inspiration for my next short story in my fiction workshop.