after the thrill is gone
I realize that change is absolutly ineviatable. I love it in about 90% of its aplication, but the 10% I lothe, I destest more than anything, seems the closest to me.
I have been watching things unfold as they have for some time now; it was not long ago that I was in an idylic and very agreeable, while not perfect, situation.
But loneliness settles upon me, and my dreams are again troubled. I wonder, when I am alone with my thoughts, reflecting upon the everything that goes on around me, if I could have alterd it. So many mistakes, but truthfully, it is all I could do; I am human, after all. My pool is empty, I have no strength of mind of body to go on, only the voice, deep and resonent; is it the fear of closure? Is it a fear of what will happen, when the events that now seem unstoppable, actualy take place?
lives were not ment to be lived, but endured, so it sometimes seems. There is a point where lies, deciet, treachery could best you all at once, but you find yourself too tired to feel anger. You find yourself to tired to sleep, as I am. You fear what may come because you have seen what it might become, and you fear what might be your only salvation.
What comes next will be painful, it will hurt unlike anything has, but more so it will hurt becuase for once I must do this totally and utterly alone.
I have been watching things unfold as they have for some time now; it was not long ago that I was in an idylic and very agreeable, while not perfect, situation.
But loneliness settles upon me, and my dreams are again troubled. I wonder, when I am alone with my thoughts, reflecting upon the everything that goes on around me, if I could have alterd it. So many mistakes, but truthfully, it is all I could do; I am human, after all. My pool is empty, I have no strength of mind of body to go on, only the voice, deep and resonent; is it the fear of closure? Is it a fear of what will happen, when the events that now seem unstoppable, actualy take place?
lives were not ment to be lived, but endured, so it sometimes seems. There is a point where lies, deciet, treachery could best you all at once, but you find yourself too tired to feel anger. You find yourself to tired to sleep, as I am. You fear what may come because you have seen what it might become, and you fear what might be your only salvation.
What comes next will be painful, it will hurt unlike anything has, but more so it will hurt becuase for once I must do this totally and utterly alone.