(no subject)
to be a poet
is to breathe
passion
into all things.
everything i am
is made of the same fire
that shapes dreams...
the same essence
that makes
love real.
Does it end? The desire to be whole? And sometimes I wonder if I will ever understand what it means to truly live. I feel myself hiding from who I could become, and I can't seem to pull myself free from the comfort of what I know. This entire weekend has been nothing but a constant reminder that life is rushing by me, and I am powerless to stop it. So I hide... maybe because it is the only thing I know how to control anymore. And where do I hide? In my music, the books I love. In art and poetry... in hoping for love. In dreams. My problem lies in the fact that I do not know how to worry. I just don't. Why does that have to be such a horrible thing? To simply be able to relax and know that tomorrow simply is?
I graduated from college yesterday. And now what?? Well, I want to go travel the world, learn, love, be free. But I feel like I am trapped by what others want, and my own desire to please. And when the hell did I start caring what others thought? What others wanted? Maybe I always have and never wanted to admit it. I feel like I have changed so much in such a short period of time, but have no idea how to reconcile with it. I've lost, for a moment, who I am... and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I am truly frightened.
But tomorrow I will be me again, because it is a different day, and it is only life. And this is only a song, and these are only words, and you are only as much as you allow yourself to be.
And I am only a book half written.......
is to breathe
passion
into all things.
everything i am
is made of the same fire
that shapes dreams...
the same essence
that makes
love real.
Does it end? The desire to be whole? And sometimes I wonder if I will ever understand what it means to truly live. I feel myself hiding from who I could become, and I can't seem to pull myself free from the comfort of what I know. This entire weekend has been nothing but a constant reminder that life is rushing by me, and I am powerless to stop it. So I hide... maybe because it is the only thing I know how to control anymore. And where do I hide? In my music, the books I love. In art and poetry... in hoping for love. In dreams. My problem lies in the fact that I do not know how to worry. I just don't. Why does that have to be such a horrible thing? To simply be able to relax and know that tomorrow simply is?
I graduated from college yesterday. And now what?? Well, I want to go travel the world, learn, love, be free. But I feel like I am trapped by what others want, and my own desire to please. And when the hell did I start caring what others thought? What others wanted? Maybe I always have and never wanted to admit it. I feel like I have changed so much in such a short period of time, but have no idea how to reconcile with it. I've lost, for a moment, who I am... and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I am truly frightened.
But tomorrow I will be me again, because it is a different day, and it is only life. And this is only a song, and these are only words, and you are only as much as you allow yourself to be.
And I am only a book half written.......