FloatingHoping to catch an eyeEven the eye of a stormWaitingFor someone else to doWishingTo be noticedNot wanting to be judgedLongingTo have some course of actionNon-action is an action of choiceLookingFor someone else to seeTo see importance in what has been leftFloating
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Counting on the everydayThe eye is caught by a lost soulFamiliarity is strong, but the eyes go emptyCalling for attention goes unnoticedReaching out, your hand passes right throughAs if an apparition, seemingly solid yet made of mistThere is nothing to grasp ontoSo the once familiar passes by unable to find its wayNot really searching for it, the soul continues to wanderWatching as its surroundings seem to swallow it all at onceWanting to follow and fix what you are not sure is even brokenStopped by nothing in particular, that first step is never takenWondering if your paths will cross again
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An inherent fear of being selfish has shaped a severely skewed existence. How far is too far to bend in the wrong direction, and who's to say which is the wrong way? I have found these times to negate the usual course of things in my life. A, more than determined, third party has twisted the norm and rendered me unimportant, for now. I am grateful for this change. Whatever torturous course of action is taken, it is I that will suffer gladly for every extra moment.Yet, in suffering for this cause, I must ignore the life I built and those who love me may not understand. I have sent away the beautiful distractions to concentrate on the task at hand. I am sad and broken, but this is all I can do. There is no decision to make, for there is no real choice. Whatever reaction, whatever possibility, I will trudge through it all for the possibility of time. How am I supposed to just give up and let things be. Am I to let one suffer to humor the other? It is an impossibility. An extra month, or week, or day or minute can mean the difference between a fighting chance and a broken beginning. The latter is not an option, not if I can help it. So injections of man-made concoctions and happy accidental side-effects of breathing shots, pills that barely work as directed, and regular trips to confounded professionals are my lot in life for as long as it takes to make this a success story.However, history and impatience are working against me. Regaled with daily horror stories, I cannot find peace. I have been lucky in the past, but doesn't luck always run out at some point? That is my fear, that I cannot change the inevitable. With closed eyes I see the future. Depending on my mood, the outcome changes. I have never needed perfection. I will take what I get and run with it and be happy for what I get. Whatever the outcome, we will all be fine, even stronger...maybe. It is not in me to give up when the fight is not my own. I'm not fighting for happiness or positive outcomes, for I have no control over the end result. I fight for time and I will fight to the death for every second I can offer, for every minute or day or week. I fight because I must, because only I can. I fight because that is all I can do.
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Nails clawing through shirttailsTrying to hold onDesperate not to let things changeFaceless people turn their backsGlasses shatter half fullOnly the empties remain
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Certain times of year there are things to be expected. For many reasons summer has become something to dread, and the list keeps growing. For it is this time of year when logic and sanity collide battling for space to occupy in my mind. As my thoughts waltz between form and function, the day crosses into night with barely a glance. The sounds that should bound with joy instead grind upon the the last thread this side of normal, whatever that is. The busy season is upon us. Busy for those who wheel and deal in those things. For those of us just outside the circle, we struggle to hold on to the little things. After all, it is just my luck that the busy season coincides with summer. For some there is no time for home, family, or anything that goes along with it, for others it is different. There is complete saturation with no escape in sight. The need to be free for even a moment begins to snuff out rational thoughts. The intermittent thoughtless moment is quickly pounced upon and filled with over analysis and self-doubt, about nothing really. There is no sleep and every action and thought is tainted by the overwhelming worry that everything can go wrong in an instant. Not that the thought is in the forefront of every minute of every day. However, when you have a moment in life that brings everything crashing to a halt, and circumstances that repeat themselves every year for an entire season, well, I suppose you would come to dread summer a bit as well. For now, all is well. Not too hectic thus far, but it is early yet. I'll lose my mind soon enough and by July I'm sure I'll be quite intolerable with this nonsense. But that will be then...and there is always a chance that this time will be different.
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The slightest whisper of the warmest touchThe breath of motion in the still of nightBlood rushes to the surface leaving fire in its wake,as it follows the slightest movement,the faintest touch, the longing for moreElectricity jumps the gapIntensity amplified by the exquisite acheStirring deep withinRadiating shock waves that tetherTwo becoming one
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Treasured moments lost in timeRelived in dreams or nightmaresTo wake with a longing long since passedTo sleep and be swept away to what was once forgottenPrevious happiness is remembered as holyNo anger, no sadness, no discontentIt is, after all, a dream of what wasImperfection is reality as it was back thenDreams sift out the ugly and unpleasantAll that is left is the sparkle of diamond dustTwinkling stars of a happy heartIt is not wise to judge today by yesterdayOr tomorrow by todayThe good is to be wrapped up and kept warmThe tarnished should be left to melt into nothingEach smile stored in a safe place to be called upon as neededToday's treasured moments are tomorrow's dreams
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Saddened by fear of the unknownFrightened for all that might beDrowning in the sludge caused by maybeFighting to ignore what they seeEveryone has an opinionWorries kept in closed fistTired of choking on the emptyMisunderstandings give way to be pissedStruggling to make sense of the senselessThe worst thoughts darken the mindDiscouraged by the time that's been wastedDistraction would be quite a find
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Every time the head turns something new is foundEach speck weighs heavily, infinitely more than the lastImmobilized by the lack of thought or wondermentNumbness begins in body and culminates in a foggy mindSuffocation under the thought that there is nothing elseYanked out of grasp yet slammed on the shouldersThe weight is cumbersome, yet born gladlyAll that can be done is doneTime tells all, yet does not always healRelaxing is not an option and trying highlights the failure to do soIt will come to an end soon enough
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Changing minds like running waterFuture plans disappear in the mistVenting the mind can weigh down othersYet once they're gone, they don't exist
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Behind closed eyes lies the truthJumbled and broken in bits and piecesShattered dreams forgottenMemories erasedFamiliar feelings confound the soulFear sears the mind's eyeFaith can release it
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Everything is gray lined in hues of sunsetBeauty and hope are strong but unable to conquer, yetWait and see, wait and seeDisconcerting nothingnessWaiting to see if hope will winHoping that gray doesn't darkenClouds ebb and flow in a sunny stormIndeterminable outcomesChange of plansCourses of outcomeNo options left to exploreWait and see is what to doRelax, is an order that cannot be followedPreparing for the worst is frighteningHoping for the best is more soThe "what-ifs" are intolerableOne can only do what one doesWhat else can be expected
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Blindsided by near tragedyBullied by unanswered questionsElation tempered with doubtToo frightened to be freeBest attempts continue to failEscaping to nothingNothing in returnEmpty or just too full to feelIrreplaceable timeWithering and wastedSearching beyond hopeLooking for the goodHolding on to rainbowsSpontaneity dies slowlyRestless minds swim too fastShades of yellow in a fogNo memory of yesterdayPulled back into nowUnable to process more emotionUnstoppable floodsUndeniable bondsUnwanted feelingsUnconditional everythingEmotional vampirism and parasitic tendenciesLeave nothing behindOverwhelming need to helpBound by limitsPulled by loveTorn apart slowlyUnable to healUnable to dealLeft bone dry and usedNo one to blameNo cycle to breakTaking your sorrowSwallowing your painCarrying your suffering away from youAs you heal I disappear
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urban-Li_fe...and besides, there´s this voice-in-my-headechoing...and......louder and louder and louder and louder...I´m not going mad,I k_now.I´m sure. I´m jus_t...I´m inside this neverwhere,It´s just another nightma___re...And I´m floating in the space between my brain and my sku_lland it´s a huge gap...and I´m floatiiiiiiiing,and I´m goinnn´...I´m away from my safe capsule.There´s no time here...and I gaze
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Daily rituals that fill our lives are born of a crazy world. If we control the little and useless, then the rest doesn't feel so lost. The toothpaste must be squeezed from the bottom of the tube. It is a tragedy to grab it in the middle. Why is that so? Is it that difficult of a task to squeeze from the bottom by yourself? Must everyone conform to your touch of OCD? Does it matter if they do it how they want to? Isn't the point that the teeth get brushed. In the grand scheme of things is toothpaste even important? Yet, the ridiculous argument ensues on a fairly regular basis. The fact that it's been argued repeatedly for years leads one to wonder if the tube gets grabbed in the middle just to start the argument. Then, if that is so, what does that say about the dynamic between those who are arguing. Weeks of useless self-analysis later, it is still being argued. Pointless, as are much of the things that linger in the mind. Take the toilet seat. There are couples who have dissolved over this particular dilemma. I've never been one of those people. After a couple of times of your butt being kissed by icy toilet water in the middle of the night. It becomes a habit to check before you sit. Now, it is the guy who falls in more than I. I chuckle every time. Like I said, pointless
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Nothing like a house full of aliens to make you appreciate your own. Too much stress for nothing that matters. Ran ragged for what? Limits pushed and patience tested. Yet midnight giggles and belly laughs wash it all away. At that moment, it is all worth it. In that instant is found pure joy, and happiness is shown in the singing and dancing of the quiet and shy. These are the moments that are filed away in heart and mind to be called upon on the days when sanity is wasted on the vacant stares of the incessantly bored and testy. It's nice when you're given a glimpse of perfection just when you are beginning to wonder how you found yourself so far from where you thought you would be.
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Time spent alone doesn't make one lonelyYet loneliness weighs quite heavilyThe thoughts take hold and block the sunCloudy days inhibit all that comes to passLingering thoughts flash like lightningThunder crashes in the mindFocus is lost and suffocation beginsWas that a "tone" in the voice on the phone?Yet to miss a love is normal"Out of sight, out of mind"Only works on the one who is away from homeFor those left behind surrounded by belongingsEncompassed in memories,The moments drone on indefinitelyOnly to pass too quickly upon loves return
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Right or Wrong?Right or Wrong?Black or White?Moral Turpitude?That question only lives in shades of grayWhat is pure of heart anyway?Is EVERYTHING open to personal interpretation?Does logic walk with morality or does morality defy logic?If it helps you get what you want, then is it not logical?Yet, it will seldom be moralThe high road is often a lonely placeWhy is it that others always seem to come before you?Are others always more important?How is that logical?Black or White?Right or Wrong?Shade is only useful as shelter from the sun
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