tell me what ya think
It’s 3a.m. on Monday morning and I am sitting in my car and staring at the rain falling down the windshield, and I think. I think of all the opportunities I had to say what I should have said. It’s raining harder now, I get out of my car, I start to walk, and I think. I think of all of the times we spent together and all of the memories I now have
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u hella just put nething ive ever written to shame bro....i like it...its awesome...
and now that i think about it...what u just wrote hella sounds like one that i wrote...im guessing similar situations...o hell...lets compare...tell me if mine is similar or not...
I once was so naïve. I thought that it would never be me looking from the inside out. I was the one who helped friends out of hard times. I was the one who would be their anchor when they were drifting. I was the one who would give them a hand, not to pull them out, but to keep them from falling any deeper. I was the one who would try and put some logic in their all but logical lives. I was the one who knew.
Things just seem to change so fast when reality finally catches up to you, and you realize that for once, you need someone to anchor you down, to keep you from falling, to keep you from drifting. The transition is one of subtle disillusion. It comes from no where, but from right in front of you at the same time. At first you think nothing of it, but slowly it grows to become the only reality you know. You want it to end, but at the same time, you want it to be there forever, it becomes natural for you to have a feeling of need, a need for something that is not there and cannot be grasped. It’s a thorn in your side that seems to just scratch the surface at first; it feels good at the time, but you know nothing good could come from it. You do not listen. Finally, it catches a spot and spears through your flesh, and that’s when you realize the reality, what is real and what you thought to be real, is in truth, not. In a great rush of adrenaline you feel a painful burning like the tongues of flames licking at your side. You panic. Why would something that feels so good and so right end up hurting so bad and be so wrong, why would it become the foil of everything you imagined in one brief second.
Now I am tired. I am drained and left wanting. I am tired and worn. I am empty. I pulled the thorn too quickly. I pulled it in a moment of rashness. I pulled it just in time.
Now left with a gaping hole, I sit alone emotionless and blank. Until soon I find yet another scratch. Thinking that there is no way it could sneak up so fast, no way could I feel this so soon after. But in truth, it was there all along. Not a thorn, but an anchor, a hand to keep me from falling. Blinded by the pain that I was feeling, she was there all along. But. I can’t. Too many signs point to no. Too many voices tell me no. Too many memories remind me, no. There are too many possibilities of me searching for the old reality, thinking it will be different, knowing that it will not, but thinking it all the same. My mind is too caught up in this old reality to chance something that seems to be again, so right. As confusion sets in, I stumble. Like a newly born deer or a man without his sea legs, I tremble, I’m lost, I’m confused. Fearing tomorrow I think of how it might go. What might happen. What might be said. What might not be said. I lie in bed staring at a blank screen waiting for something to change. But nothing ever does, or ever will.
I am now more mature. I am now looking from the inside out. I need help from friends to get out of hard times. I need an anchor to keep me from drifting. I need a hand to keep me from falling any deeper. I need any kind of logic in my illogical life. I am no longer the one who knows. I am now the equivalent of what I was helping. I now need someone to be as strong as I once was to not only keep me from falling, but to pull me out.
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