(no subject)
Speculations tied to years gone.
I guess the summer brings out the stink of the past that will cling to you worse than the stench of rotting flesh.
Webs woven, a false identity spun in my likeness - yet none to strong to hold my spirits at bay.
I charge forward with my life, learning and loving every day, and yet, every once in a while a little bee will come across my path and sting me. The first few were tough - how do you justify the pain of being targeted by a little minion who knows nothing more than to poison you? Soon you become numb to the pain and realize once its said and done, it is death to that tiny bee after one faithful strike. That idea soon becomes satisfying - especially when you can swat them down before they can even get to you....
My emotional and rational growth has toppled over itself in leaps and bounds. I can see things for what they are, can see things before they are and i have learned to leave what needs to be left and who needs to be left behind me - justifying this solitude is golden.
I no longer feel the guilt of coincidence or fate. I wont look over my shoulder and fear false accusations or assumptions. To speak of whats behind you is only moving backwards. I know the light before me is bright, and even brighter with the one beside me. (briosca, tá mé chomh mór sin i ngrá leat, tá mé chomh doirte sin duit;)
You cant apologize for a past to a set of deaf ears, or display acts of peace to a blind audience. Nor is it worth a breath of my life to perpetually set the record straight. Who's records are they anyways? All there is to be done is own up to my actions in my heart and mourn the missteps of a life lived and turn it into a life of awareness and diligence.
This said, I can forgive the unforgivable and shake my head and laugh at supposed stories of "my ghost" walking the surface of other peoples hell.
I guess the summer brings out the stink of the past that will cling to you worse than the stench of rotting flesh.
Webs woven, a false identity spun in my likeness - yet none to strong to hold my spirits at bay.
I charge forward with my life, learning and loving every day, and yet, every once in a while a little bee will come across my path and sting me. The first few were tough - how do you justify the pain of being targeted by a little minion who knows nothing more than to poison you? Soon you become numb to the pain and realize once its said and done, it is death to that tiny bee after one faithful strike. That idea soon becomes satisfying - especially when you can swat them down before they can even get to you....
My emotional and rational growth has toppled over itself in leaps and bounds. I can see things for what they are, can see things before they are and i have learned to leave what needs to be left and who needs to be left behind me - justifying this solitude is golden.
I no longer feel the guilt of coincidence or fate. I wont look over my shoulder and fear false accusations or assumptions. To speak of whats behind you is only moving backwards. I know the light before me is bright, and even brighter with the one beside me. (briosca, tá mé chomh mór sin i ngrá leat, tá mé chomh doirte sin duit;)
You cant apologize for a past to a set of deaf ears, or display acts of peace to a blind audience. Nor is it worth a breath of my life to perpetually set the record straight. Who's records are they anyways? All there is to be done is own up to my actions in my heart and mourn the missteps of a life lived and turn it into a life of awareness and diligence.
This said, I can forgive the unforgivable and shake my head and laugh at supposed stories of "my ghost" walking the surface of other peoples hell.