(no subject)
this place isn't the desperate sanctuary it used to be for me. i enjoy the distance, but i miss the affiliated people it reguards.
it's strange that while termoil and confusion chokes you like a dusty road- all the while i still feel somewhat in control. although i never really seem to be fully,, im floating. i want to fly. i want to feel weightless in all aspects of existance.
i am so incredibly happy with the attributes and flow of my current story but i need to take the crucial steps to get out. to start a new chapter to say..
its no longer that desperate angsty ache i traveled with inside of me during my rebellious, hollow teenage pit..more of an elaboration with an unfinished piece of art. and my draining babbling needs ajax anti-clog..but all in quite on the western front and me yes i need to scream it out, push the throttle, the left peddle in a stick shift car, exhale.
an appriciation for the things you have, and the acceptance of things long lost. complacent with each wimb that tickles under your nose. something like stone white sheets in a mild summer breeze and home made pink lemonade. that kind of comfort.
thats my new ache. my new weakness, a new conquest.
now to clean my room, an old conquest vying to be accomplished.
yes yes.
i'm glad we're not moving i would miss my veiw.
i layed head horizontal, mind muted to just a melodic breeze brushing through the trees tangled hair. i could'nt move and i could'nt stop. i would have loathed looking at a stecko'd wall..
oh right..my room..
it's strange that while termoil and confusion chokes you like a dusty road- all the while i still feel somewhat in control. although i never really seem to be fully,, im floating. i want to fly. i want to feel weightless in all aspects of existance.
i am so incredibly happy with the attributes and flow of my current story but i need to take the crucial steps to get out. to start a new chapter to say..
its no longer that desperate angsty ache i traveled with inside of me during my rebellious, hollow teenage pit..more of an elaboration with an unfinished piece of art. and my draining babbling needs ajax anti-clog..but all in quite on the western front and me yes i need to scream it out, push the throttle, the left peddle in a stick shift car, exhale.
an appriciation for the things you have, and the acceptance of things long lost. complacent with each wimb that tickles under your nose. something like stone white sheets in a mild summer breeze and home made pink lemonade. that kind of comfort.
thats my new ache. my new weakness, a new conquest.
now to clean my room, an old conquest vying to be accomplished.
yes yes.
i'm glad we're not moving i would miss my veiw.
i layed head horizontal, mind muted to just a melodic breeze brushing through the trees tangled hair. i could'nt move and i could'nt stop. i would have loathed looking at a stecko'd wall..
oh right..my room..