(no subject)
I just put that new poem into my collection that I keep on my computer and discovered that it's been over a year since I wrote a poem. Yeesh.
One of the nice things about that terrible year where I freelanced and tutored and generally hated life? I certainly had the time to write, to dream, and to voice my frustrations through visual and written art.
Hm. Oh, I am such a ridiculous woman. Constantly discontent, yearning, passion trapped behind a floodwall of caution and control.
I would let the floodgates open. I would. But the repercussions are always so great. Why don't others experience such trouble, such intense feedback when they step a toe outside the lines? Who would I be if I could just be wild and not worry about what would happen?
Ah, the constant question. If only I could ask it more eloquently.
How many missed chances have there been that I didn't even see? Were there men who would have loved me if I had only seen them, only given them a chance? If I'd just stepped out into the abyss without worrying how I would climb back out? Why can't I be one of these women who loves indiscriminately, one of these EVERY WOMEN EVERYWHERE? Who am I to be such an island, a rock, the Lady of Shallot?
I am half sick of shadows.
One of the nice things about that terrible year where I freelanced and tutored and generally hated life? I certainly had the time to write, to dream, and to voice my frustrations through visual and written art.
Hm. Oh, I am such a ridiculous woman. Constantly discontent, yearning, passion trapped behind a floodwall of caution and control.
I would let the floodgates open. I would. But the repercussions are always so great. Why don't others experience such trouble, such intense feedback when they step a toe outside the lines? Who would I be if I could just be wild and not worry about what would happen?
Ah, the constant question. If only I could ask it more eloquently.
How many missed chances have there been that I didn't even see? Were there men who would have loved me if I had only seen them, only given them a chance? If I'd just stepped out into the abyss without worrying how I would climb back out? Why can't I be one of these women who loves indiscriminately, one of these EVERY WOMEN EVERYWHERE? Who am I to be such an island, a rock, the Lady of Shallot?
I am half sick of shadows.
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