(no subject)
So I was looking out into the mist earlier. It made me kind of sad in a way.
I looked at the crystallised frost on the twigs in the trees, watched the billowing low-flying clouds wisping around things. Caressing them perhaps? Touching them with chill fingers and holding everything still and in place. In a way it's beautiful, because here time stands still and nothing is moving. There is no wind, the green dares not move.
I glimpse my reflection in the glass, and I see within myself a reflection of the scene outside. Permafrost, wintry scenes with everything slowed to a crawl. Time inside of me is standing still. There have only been about four times in the past three years I can actually think I've made a major life-altering change and because of that the seasons are stagnating within me.
On the one hand it's crazy to be even likening these things together, but on the other hand I don't think I could bear living in a world where these thoughts didn't occur to me. It was one of my fears growing up, that 'being an adult' meant sacrificing everything that made life interesting. Replacing these interesting (to me) thoughts with thoughts about paying bills and all that other stuff.
Part of my problem is the reluctance to the things around me to change. There are so many aspects touching my own that do not, can not, will not, change. I need to decide whether or not to gravitate away from these things or whether to stick with them and accept the winter to come.
Or perhaps things aren't so melancholy.
I'm just sayin'.
I looked at the crystallised frost on the twigs in the trees, watched the billowing low-flying clouds wisping around things. Caressing them perhaps? Touching them with chill fingers and holding everything still and in place. In a way it's beautiful, because here time stands still and nothing is moving. There is no wind, the green dares not move.
I glimpse my reflection in the glass, and I see within myself a reflection of the scene outside. Permafrost, wintry scenes with everything slowed to a crawl. Time inside of me is standing still. There have only been about four times in the past three years I can actually think I've made a major life-altering change and because of that the seasons are stagnating within me.
On the one hand it's crazy to be even likening these things together, but on the other hand I don't think I could bear living in a world where these thoughts didn't occur to me. It was one of my fears growing up, that 'being an adult' meant sacrificing everything that made life interesting. Replacing these interesting (to me) thoughts with thoughts about paying bills and all that other stuff.
Part of my problem is the reluctance to the things around me to change. There are so many aspects touching my own that do not, can not, will not, change. I need to decide whether or not to gravitate away from these things or whether to stick with them and accept the winter to come.
Or perhaps things aren't so melancholy.
I'm just sayin'.