Sweeter than heaven / Hotter than hell
I keep meaning to write here, I do. The urge strikes and a topic illuminates itself in the dark recesses of my addled mind but all the energy seeps through my fingers, spills into less fruitful endeavors. Sporadically, I write in my paper journal and what comes out, I find, is a useless deluge of drivel. I first cracked its pages hoping to gather the edges of myself and tie them where they belong, properly, but my daily life is so mundane, yet so aggressive, that such a quest is hard to maintain.
My goal is to synchronize the girl I am inside to the stranger that looks back at me from a reflective surface. My shadows are not mine and this I feel to the very core and if I wake up fast enough, I feel a sense of dissonance that is hard to reconcile. I look at my limbs and feel as I've been swallowed whole, alive, by a monster. I am the soul inside of a different host and there is work to be done if I am to weave through the illusions and reach my truth.
I need to be stronger than the forces around me and that seems too daunting of a task. Too impossible to even ask of myself. I'm not ready yet. But I am frantic as I feel like I'm running out of time.
I wanted to wage this war when I had had some rest, some time to recover though the faster the days go by, the more I'm convinced that this is a battle I will have to enter already maimed, already broken.
I hope I work well under pressure again.
My goal is to synchronize the girl I am inside to the stranger that looks back at me from a reflective surface. My shadows are not mine and this I feel to the very core and if I wake up fast enough, I feel a sense of dissonance that is hard to reconcile. I look at my limbs and feel as I've been swallowed whole, alive, by a monster. I am the soul inside of a different host and there is work to be done if I am to weave through the illusions and reach my truth.
I need to be stronger than the forces around me and that seems too daunting of a task. Too impossible to even ask of myself. I'm not ready yet. But I am frantic as I feel like I'm running out of time.
I wanted to wage this war when I had had some rest, some time to recover though the faster the days go by, the more I'm convinced that this is a battle I will have to enter already maimed, already broken.
I hope I work well under pressure again.