I've been dreaming in broken images that I don't remember, except for in slips. The last of my dreams this morning, as I skipped along the surface unwilling or unable to drop back under but unprepared to leave my bed, was particularly vivid and cohesive, however. So I'll write it down, because I mean to record these things more often.

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To follow, a lengthy and poetically worded update about What's Really Going On in my life.
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Night rolls around over and over; at its cusp, I am poised on the edge of wanting. It is a nameless craving, that word on the tip of your tongue, that question I wandered in to ask but can no longer remember.

Days like this, I wish I did drugs. Sortof. It would just be nice to be able to rub everything out on command for a while in these no-win situations. I'm tired of the heartache of them; I want a break.

Why?

Because, sometimes, life is crappy, and you can't sleep.

Just got out of a long bath. Did a little meditating.
( Visualization )

Long week; long nights and days; long hours filled with obscure and indescribable yearnings; emptinesses that are tiny and intimate yet also swallow me up ( Read more... )

But suddenly I knew, that you'd have to go, your world was not mine, your eyes told me so.I'm back to being in love with phantoms, with the haze of mythos behind my own eyes and nothing that I will, in this world, likely ever be able to grasp. I remember what this was like, when I was young, and loneliness wasn't so profound because the heart ( Read more... )