these lines that are completely meaningless... creative non-fiction II..
"Because I love you," he said. "Now can we take a walk?"
I read this line again and again and I can feel my insides bubbling over; my emotions locked away in the pressure-cooker... and I realize just how tired I am. I stop pretending to look away from what's glaring me in the face; bleeding into pages and pages of written love, distorting every word and meaning, my concepts losing shape and consequence and I know that I'm absolutely terrified.
I keep feeding image after image through the slideshow behind my eyes and sink deeper into result after results after results and I face a common theme: It isn't the same.. it's not reciprocated.. "it's exactly what you fear in life," I mutter to myself bathed in the eternal glow of my own desperate thoughts and omnipotent emotions. My mechanical mediocracy asks, "Who? What? When? How? and Why?" The all too unimportant questions most believe are the keys to what matters; A festering pool of silent questioning prone to driving me mad with understanding.
"I can't help but think the two of you get to be together. I don't know when or how, I just know." I proceed to hyperventilate, choking in the midst of this spoken ideal and I am paralyzed with fear; a simple execution of my comfortable state of being. We have a good laugh while my insides begin to liquify and my face contorts internally into a comically-macabre rigormortis; the lines in my face become caverns and valleys in the earth, telling the tale of a whethered plain and exhausted soil, "This land here ain't fertile, no more." the old farmer would exclaim, examining the dry, dirt-clay with his calloused hands.
I cry.
Haunted by the echo of my own advice, I reach for that place again:
"I found that the best time to find a prospective partner (doesn't have to be permament), is to do whatever you need to do to function in your own life; when you are ready to be with someone, said person will present themselves to you in one way or another."
I return once again to that line... the first one.
and I read the story once again; finding that courage in my heart to fight this exhaustion, staving off the immediate gratification I'm trained to hunger for, listening intently for that tiny bell inside my mind to sound one more time... drooling over my intentions while I SCREAM inside, waiting patiently for my life to catch up to me once more.
I read this line again and again and I can feel my insides bubbling over; my emotions locked away in the pressure-cooker... and I realize just how tired I am. I stop pretending to look away from what's glaring me in the face; bleeding into pages and pages of written love, distorting every word and meaning, my concepts losing shape and consequence and I know that I'm absolutely terrified.
I keep feeding image after image through the slideshow behind my eyes and sink deeper into result after results after results and I face a common theme: It isn't the same.. it's not reciprocated.. "it's exactly what you fear in life," I mutter to myself bathed in the eternal glow of my own desperate thoughts and omnipotent emotions. My mechanical mediocracy asks, "Who? What? When? How? and Why?" The all too unimportant questions most believe are the keys to what matters; A festering pool of silent questioning prone to driving me mad with understanding.
"I can't help but think the two of you get to be together. I don't know when or how, I just know." I proceed to hyperventilate, choking in the midst of this spoken ideal and I am paralyzed with fear; a simple execution of my comfortable state of being. We have a good laugh while my insides begin to liquify and my face contorts internally into a comically-macabre rigormortis; the lines in my face become caverns and valleys in the earth, telling the tale of a whethered plain and exhausted soil, "This land here ain't fertile, no more." the old farmer would exclaim, examining the dry, dirt-clay with his calloused hands.
I cry.
Haunted by the echo of my own advice, I reach for that place again:
"I found that the best time to find a prospective partner (doesn't have to be permament), is to do whatever you need to do to function in your own life; when you are ready to be with someone, said person will present themselves to you in one way or another."
I return once again to that line... the first one.
and I read the story once again; finding that courage in my heart to fight this exhaustion, staving off the immediate gratification I'm trained to hunger for, listening intently for that tiny bell inside my mind to sound one more time... drooling over my intentions while I SCREAM inside, waiting patiently for my life to catch up to me once more.