Patience is how I'm living today...
It's the changes that come in a sweeping inundation that stay. The smaller a step is, the less noticeable is it, and the easier it is to forget you took it.
I've had no motivation. I haven't been doing anything other than covering my brain in sedation. I can't deny that it taught me something. I can't deny that it killed a part of me. The future seems so easy to figure out, but I never know where I am once I get there. Whether it's decay or incandescence, it's torture. There is always one thing that I want, but can never obtain. And that's the blade I wield. Whether it's pointed at others or myself, it's nothing more than a tool of violence; A crude effigy of unfocused rage.
But there's a feeling that rises up. I'm not completely sure why it's there, and I don't know if it's justifiable. I do, however, believe that it is the only real part of me. It's a rush of blood, a surging flood that tears apart acquiescence. And that's all I really need.
I haven't even thought about things like this for years. I've accepted something that was just an illusion, and was content with a slow decay. It felt right, it felt like it was what I deserved. Now, I can sense that it's a lie coiled around my heart. Knowing that there is still a romantic alive in me, that I yearn for something other than escape... it's glorifying.
It's strange. There is a part of me that likes the feeling of wanting to be with someone. There's another part that scolds my passion, insisting that I shouldn't dream so much. I've spent a long time in a cage, burning every bridge in my mind. It makes you pissed at the world, pissed at every characteristic of your circumstances.
And how do you really know what another person thinks of you? Is it all action and reaction? Am I supposed to come charging in, full force, proclaiming what seems crazy? Do I keep it in the undertow, so that it will always rule the way I think? I can't do that anymore. I woke up, and realized that I had to grab this and hold it close... somehow.
I've had no motivation. I haven't been doing anything other than covering my brain in sedation. I can't deny that it taught me something. I can't deny that it killed a part of me. The future seems so easy to figure out, but I never know where I am once I get there. Whether it's decay or incandescence, it's torture. There is always one thing that I want, but can never obtain. And that's the blade I wield. Whether it's pointed at others or myself, it's nothing more than a tool of violence; A crude effigy of unfocused rage.
But there's a feeling that rises up. I'm not completely sure why it's there, and I don't know if it's justifiable. I do, however, believe that it is the only real part of me. It's a rush of blood, a surging flood that tears apart acquiescence. And that's all I really need.
I haven't even thought about things like this for years. I've accepted something that was just an illusion, and was content with a slow decay. It felt right, it felt like it was what I deserved. Now, I can sense that it's a lie coiled around my heart. Knowing that there is still a romantic alive in me, that I yearn for something other than escape... it's glorifying.
It's strange. There is a part of me that likes the feeling of wanting to be with someone. There's another part that scolds my passion, insisting that I shouldn't dream so much. I've spent a long time in a cage, burning every bridge in my mind. It makes you pissed at the world, pissed at every characteristic of your circumstances.
And how do you really know what another person thinks of you? Is it all action and reaction? Am I supposed to come charging in, full force, proclaiming what seems crazy? Do I keep it in the undertow, so that it will always rule the way I think? I can't do that anymore. I woke up, and realized that I had to grab this and hold it close... somehow.
posted by Anonymous at 8:08 PM
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