Long-winded Approach to 7:48pm; Either/Or.
I'll begin with an end-- I'm lost. Funny the way a certain look from a certain face can maintain yr focus, quite similar to looking directly into the sun, that tiny globe of orange you can't quite look away from as it has embedded itself within yr vision. An equally as daunting a task to rid of said look as said UV polka dot...
I was terribly weak that afternoon as there are some days food doesn't end up making it's way into my day until much later when I fully realize the value of nutrition. By then, it always seems too late and I end my night with a very empty feeling of another kind, luckily. Lucky because I know that empty feeling I'd otherwise have and well, honestly put, I'd rather starve to create distraction enough to sleep. At each turning point I felt my knees attempt collapse and I, being so well in control when it comes to these sort of situations, refused and continued my trail into the depths of a sure bet. A sure bet. I knew I had to push forward no matter what trouble made itself the forefront of my consciousness; a certainty is never something you fuck with. Never. It's a mighty high branch with a tragically painful landing, and if you find it within yrself to shove out onto the thin end of it all, I wish all the luck in the world towards yr journey, but I'd never so much as expect your return.
[That lone tear slowly sliding
at a coma's one year anniversary; Oh, how the ossuary decides to mock!]
To my left, the moon. There's a massive sadness in my bones. Every now and again, my sadness, it kicks up a tremendous energy and explodes into my thought; I've come to assure myself of endings and it's times like these, when it quivers from my tip-top to my feet, that I sleep deep in that assurance. This fit the bill. I find myself all too often stuck on a single sentence, or a striking facial expression, or that glow that nests 'round the outer edge of the head of a tree-- 's always the details that get to me.
[She stretched out long. Her feet pointed toward the heavens and I took notice at how much more sense it would've made for her toes to be directed inward. What a quality to possess! To make me at all find a parallel between such a crazed version of happiness and her, there. Well, I'm not surprised. If at all one may find themselves within her grips, I suspect a full pardon for any exaggeration deemed inappropriate. She blinked thirty times that minute.]
And so began my way of coping...
I was terribly weak that afternoon as there are some days food doesn't end up making it's way into my day until much later when I fully realize the value of nutrition. By then, it always seems too late and I end my night with a very empty feeling of another kind, luckily. Lucky because I know that empty feeling I'd otherwise have and well, honestly put, I'd rather starve to create distraction enough to sleep. At each turning point I felt my knees attempt collapse and I, being so well in control when it comes to these sort of situations, refused and continued my trail into the depths of a sure bet. A sure bet. I knew I had to push forward no matter what trouble made itself the forefront of my consciousness; a certainty is never something you fuck with. Never. It's a mighty high branch with a tragically painful landing, and if you find it within yrself to shove out onto the thin end of it all, I wish all the luck in the world towards yr journey, but I'd never so much as expect your return.
[That lone tear slowly sliding
at a coma's one year anniversary; Oh, how the ossuary decides to mock!]
To my left, the moon. There's a massive sadness in my bones. Every now and again, my sadness, it kicks up a tremendous energy and explodes into my thought; I've come to assure myself of endings and it's times like these, when it quivers from my tip-top to my feet, that I sleep deep in that assurance. This fit the bill. I find myself all too often stuck on a single sentence, or a striking facial expression, or that glow that nests 'round the outer edge of the head of a tree-- 's always the details that get to me.
[She stretched out long. Her feet pointed toward the heavens and I took notice at how much more sense it would've made for her toes to be directed inward. What a quality to possess! To make me at all find a parallel between such a crazed version of happiness and her, there. Well, I'm not surprised. If at all one may find themselves within her grips, I suspect a full pardon for any exaggeration deemed inappropriate. She blinked thirty times that minute.]
And so began my way of coping...