Be MineAt My Most BeautifulI'll Take the RainBeen listening to some of R.E.M.'s more delicate stuff. It's been awhile. Don't know why I pulled it out, but I do love it so. I suppose all good music takes you someplace, either within yourself or wholly removed.
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To go through life when everyone thinks they know youEveryone has an agendaEveryone has an opinionUnable to let down your guardUnimaginable solitudeAlone with your thoughtsSurrounded by the trusted fewIn fear of the misguidedAlways botheredGone are the days of strolling through townNo longer able to enjoy a quiet lunchWhat is a peaceful afternoon?People lose perspectiveEveryone wants a pieceThey want to touch to make it realWho knows where they've beenWho cares what they wantPeople think they know you by something you have doneThey bond with you in their minds, in their heartsYet, eternally a strangerHow can you be who everyone thinks you areYou are many things to many peopleNone of which are youYou are just a person like any otherThey will never understand that you can't love them backThey are not to you what you have become to themHow can they ever be?They want to consume youThey want to be like youThey want to become youThey want to devour youThey want to love youBut you can never be who they think you areYou can only be who you actually areYou're confinement is on their shouldersThey push and you hideDoing your best to protect what is yours,What is real to you,What is leftEveryone thinks they know youAnd everyone is wrong
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The tidal wave continues. Battered and broken I crash on shore miles away from where I started and even further from where I will end up. The torrent of shadows of former friends block the sun. There is no sky. There is no moon. There is only emptiness and a cool breeze. Soon the wound left gaping by the trusted will fill in and heal over. Never the same. Never forgotten. Lessons learned the hard way. Trust given freely is seldom rewarded with respect. Sad state of affairs. Sad state of the people. How will they teach the up and coming how to be strong, or to be empowered to face hardship head on, when backward and underhanded seems to guide the soulless en masse.
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Tick Tock, Tick TockNever enough of the intangibleFull speed aheadThere is no race, no record to breakWhose is more valuable and who's to say?Run faster, faster, fasterSpinning like a topCrash and burnThe wasteful nature of humanityTick Tock, Tick TockIt can't be savedIt does not rolloverIt cannot be bought and soldIt does not existWhose is more valuable and who's to say?
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Well, it's been a couple of weeks since this whole drama began to unfold. Some got knocked around, but I'm still standing. Knew I would. Now, the troublemakers have turned butt-kissing brown-nosers. I hate hypocrisy. We all do it at some point. In little bits, no biggie. But 180 degrees of it makes me nauseous. Anyway, bunches of people begging for my help, like I'm supposed to put it all back together after they trampled it to pieces. Not my job, not anymore. I will help them transition into the basement they have built. Perhaps I'll stay long enough to help lay the foundation. But I am completely disgusted and just don't want to do anymore. How can it be that after thinking they can do whatever they want with no regard for people, friendship, protocol, or anything, that after their battle plan failed, that I'm supposed be like "all's well that ends well" and continue on with a smile. They're nuts. To tell you the truth, the more they kiss my hiney (sp?) the more I can't stand the sight of them.I know I sound bitter. I don't feel bitter. They can apologize all they want, wrong is wrong is wrong is wrong. How can you be that selfish and disrespectful and think people still want to be around you. They actually tried to guilt me by telling me it's for the kids. Well, my kid is finished with it all at the end of the month. So, they can kiss my hiney until the door smacks them in the face as I leave. When my next child is of age for the program, I will go first to see if there are any remnants of them. If so, my kid will attend elsewhere. Or maybe I'll put him in sports. My oldest is more intellectual than athletic, but my second is much more energetic. Eh, we'll see. It's a good program. The boys have been raised around it and are looking forward to it. But that is a year and a half away. Only time will tell.Still, I am amused by the ridiculous. I know I shouldn't, but I am enjoying seeing these people beg for forgiveness. They are grovelling at my feet like I could offer them absolution. I am not that woman. They need to live with themselves, and make their peace with God or the diety of their choice. I have no guilt in this. I've even been offered a position in District. Yeah, I laughed out loud at the offer and left the fools there. Why on earth would I want to further entrench myself in this nonsense, when I am finally free. Out of their minds I tell ya, every last one of them.
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Trust in humanity is shaken. Trembling to the core despite the rising heat. Never able to understand why people choose to lie, why they choose manipulate, hide, and omit. If there is something you want, then ask. Painful games and lost friends. What a price to pay for something I would have freely given. Always enough faith in others, and often let down. Troops rallied for a takeover. Black /white, left/right, right/wrong. It's easy to live life by well defined rules. Gray and other colors just cloud the mind and change the path that is there to follow. He said, she said. People hoist you on their shoulders commanding you at will, never letting you touch bottom or guide yourself. Riding on the waves of whispers. Landing in a pile of... Business is business, that's true. But people are people regardless of their current role in the play. As people, there should be some minimum standard of respect. There should be some minimum something. You can't expect them to hold you up, but you should at least be able to expect that they won't shove you face first into hell.
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Bad dreams.The worst kind really.The kind that linger when you're awakened drowning in anguished tears.It's been days and my heart still bears the wounds burned there by the images in my head.This time the nightmares weren't my own.Not the past and not a foreseeable future.Searching for meaning in the twisted and disturbing.There is none to be found.Sleep deprivation and hormones just sound like excuses.I feel somehow, stained.Marred forever by the morbid.Have you ever dreamt so real that it made you question your waking reality?Trying to shake it off, but it clings like tree sap to the soul.Easily aggravated by all things.Why can't we choose the things that we are numb to?So tired, and so very afraid to close my eyes.Our Fathers and Hail Marys to the rescue?It will keep my head busy until I fall asleep.That's the plan anyway.Wish me luck.
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Chasing rainbows and dreaming of leprechauns. How many wishes do I get? What to wish for, what to wish for? Awake from an odd dream guided by the sound of television. No real rest. No one to talk to. Sick and tired, no literally, sick to my stomach and unable to sleep. No drug induced anything. Discomfort and thoughts of little ballerinas. Ballerina slippers and tights happily twirling about the produce. Sweetness personified. Longing despite myself. Trying to stay neutral. Betrayed by emotion and feeling foolish. Too logical to be comfortable with this display and too emotional to care about logic. Yet, in his eyes I see my longing reflected. Heart breaks just a little. Yet happiness surrounds all things. Nothing to analyze. It will ebb and flow, ebb and flow. It's just one of those times when things just need to be what they are. It feels good not to peel away layers and chip away at what might be underneath. Perhaps now, I can sleep for a bit.
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Here's to all the tribulations, the trials and the suchHere's to all the things that we thought were just too muchFor it is here where we become the people that you seeWhere strength still grows and hopes still thrive for all humanityHappy New Year!
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I can see the future. It's true, because I knew it would happen. I knew. Just as I put it all behind me. I had come to terms and moved on. Now, I find myself in the familiar yet foreign. In the surreal land of, "This couldn't possibly be happening. not to me". Yet, here I am. Again. I resigned myself to the fact that this would be it. That things were how they were and I had accepted it. It was fine. In fact, I had begun looking forward to the possibilities. Crushed and thwarted are those plans. Plans of freedom so close I can hear its heartbeat. That is what happens when I begin to look ahead, begin to make plans. Just as I embark on a new era, I am slammed backwards in time. All gets pushed out of reach for another few years. All is at the bottom and everyone else is piled high upon the top. I climbed out of that place where I was alone. I found peace within and had enjoyed looking for it without. Now what? Not sure if I am strong enough to scratch my way out of the depths once more. Hoping beyond hope that this time, I won't get pushed that far down the mountain. But I know better. I am never pushed. I slide freely down, making sure they all get what they need in spite of myself. I give until I am broken and useless. Pray that I have learned my lesson, that this time it will be different. I am stronger now, not much, but a little is better than none at all. In this case anyway. Older and wiser too. Well, older anyway. Don't know if that is a good thing exactly. Wish me luck, I need all I can get.
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Honesty and truthGreat expectationsStandards too high to reachDoes one set up for failure or lower the standards? When you settle, can you be happy? Wouldn't it be forever less than what you wanted? Is it better to fail after trying? Is it? Is there any satisfaction in failing? Perhaps there can be. If you do your best, then that is all that can be done. If you try and fail, and you know there was more that you could have given, then satisfaction will be forever out of reach. I suppose there is peace in knowing your limitations.Of course I talk like I have a clue. Truth is all I have are theories, theories and fear. What if your best will never be good enough even for yourself? It puts a damper on enthusiasm to say the least. If you don't put it all out there, then there is always the hope of achievement. If you give all you have to give, if this is the best you can do and just can't cut it, then what? What happens to the dream? Where does it go? Do you all of a sudden not want what you've always wanted? Will it always cause a twang of pain knowing that you're just not good enough? Does it have to be all or nothing? Sometimes baby steps are a cop out. Sometimes a little bit doesn't go a long way. Sometimes fear really does win. Untapped potential and a life unrealized are the saddest concepts for me.Ugh, I always seem to depress myself. I'm going to bed. Good Night All.
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Don't want a smokey heartDarkened by seething rageNever looked to be this uglyThe tiniest of particles,Grates the soul unrecognizableConceptualize simplicitySay what you meanMean what you sayThere is no room for filler or fluffWanting so much to trustTo believe in wordsTo read the silenceTainted by desireWarped by sensibilityResponsibility temporarily negates joyThe places that linger are all stained grayWith gray, all is allowableAll is forgivable and can be forgottenRight or wrong isn't foggyDon't want a smokey heartThere is no honor with no rules
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How do you say Thank You when the words are plainly inadequate, when someone or something has had an effect so profound that your soul is touched? It is the example of others that teaches what words cannot. Good people being who they are, so generous and kind. Lessons are learned unnoticed. Other people's consequences are also lessons learned. People, by nature, are fallible beings. That being said, it is truly inspiring to see what you aspire to be, to be faced with the realization that nothing is impossible regardless of how it may seem, to see that adversity doesn't only breed contempt.There is something to be said for those who can truly forgive. That is the most difficult of things. It is much easier to hold on to the hurt than it is to just let it go, easier to overanalyse than let it be. The grip just cannot be loosened without forgiveness, and the road to forgiveness is never a stroll in the park. It can be just as arduous as whatever it is that needs to be forgiven. Finally seeing the possibility as a reality is quite profound. In theory, it seemed impossible, at least to me. But not so much, not anymore. I can feel the weight slightly lifted from my shoulders. There is now hope to be free from this burden that I have born for so long. For that glimmer of hope, the hope that one day it will finally be far behind, I say Thank You. It is still just not enough.
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From out of nowhere, EXCITEMENTUplifted and empowered by strangersYet, they feel like friendsIs that strange in and of itself?A new direction and something to doApparently a little validation goes a very long wayRosy glasses glued togetherThe outlook is only partly cloudy, but no chance of rainAt least not todayNot nowNot while it feels fresh and revitalizing,Like the first warm breeze of springA piece of self lost ages ago, unexpectedly returnedPerhaps it was just forgottenDusted off by a change of viewWhatever the reason, closer to feeling wholeCloser to being who I remember I was
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Little surprises change a mood.Notes from unknown friendsThe kindness of strangersKindness to strangersA random smile at the grocery storeA five minute phone call to a long lost friendA "post-it" in a lunchboxReminders of loveExtra hugs and kissesA compliment to start the day with a smileMention little things and see the impactDoesn't take much to make a differenceReach out without fearAlways be genuine
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Sitting here in the ethereal glow of the screen.House in darkness.Mind swimming endlessly, relentlessly.not allowing the slightest slumber.Pictures of people and things swirl like water down a drain.Can't stop running, like a slide show on speedThere is no sense to be madeUnable to focus, the words do not comeThe thoughts to do not formAlways on the tip of the tongueBut never out in the openThoughtless and flusteredDreams are impossibleNights are eternalDays are useless when sleep is so desperately requiredIs there hope for a hopeless situationWhen is enough, enough?Why is it that their problems land on my shoulders?To be freeTo be restedThoughts are beginning to feel like motion sickness
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Silent cherubsBedtime storieslullabies and hugsHow nice it would be to be a read a bedtime story. When was the last time you were tucked in like a burrito and sent to sleepyland with hugs and kisses. What a wonderful way to end your day, with the soothing sounds of the one you love softly lulling you to sleep feeling safe, warm, and loved.
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It's hard enough to sleep, even more so to sleep deeply enough to dream. With a worn out mind, exhausted, I stumble to bed. Fleeting images race by my mind's eye, just bits and pieces, bits and pieces. Lips in black and white. I've seen them before, like a close up snapshot. Familiar. I can almost feel their warmth, their softness and strength. Whose are they? Warm breath escapes them with the slightest of sighs. So enticing.Then, there is an eye. Just one. In a shade of blue that seems almost man made. How can something so beautiful really exist without personal enhancement? A plastic thought in a plastic world. A thought for another time. Long eyelashes blink once, twice. It sees my soul, and as I drift off I can feel the wetness on my cheek. Not conscious enough to connect the dots, just awake enough to know that I am naked. My inner-self gazed upon with an equally naked eye. The eye of a stranger so familiar that I ache to see the face to which it belongs. Bare, vulnerable, and ...free. The tear is cold in the night air as it dries upon my cheek.Though undoubtedly I must dream deeply, that is all that remains by morning. Those few brief images and a feeling. A sense of acceptance in spite of faults. A lightness that emphasizes the weight that I was unaware that I carry. The freedom to soar high above myself, above the self that I see every day, above who I have caged myself into. In that brief precursor to slumber, have I found truth? I can't help but wonder if they were subconscious clues to enlightenment. Perhaps they are the foyer to pathways of introspection that I have yet to explore. Still, I find myself struggling to hold on to that minuscule feeling of liberation of self.Evermore present is the sense that I must know the person who holds the key to my escape. My conscious mind assumes that I hold the key myself. Alas, my eyes are brown like the Earth and not blue like the sky. Those lips, full and warm, too are not my own. As I fight to place these parts into logical places, I realize that there is no place for logic here. I must loosen my grasp on what reality claims to be, on my stern perceptions of what may and may not be. I must stop analyzing and realize that there is hope that I can release myself from whatever is binding. I felt it. It is the reality I choose to believe exists.I close my eyes and try to go back to that place. That place where worries no longer exist. That place inside myself that ignores tension and releases stress. The memory is still fresh and the feeling, though fleeting, still exists. I fear that, before long I will not be able to relive it so easily, that I will, in an effort to find that peace in my conscious life, eradicate its very existence.
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narrow tunnelspitch black holeslighted endsSuffocating and frozeneyes adjust, though still uselessthe glare, however subtle is like the sunwhether it is jet black shadows or searing lightBlind is blindWhen you can't seehow are you to choose your own path?You can ask for guidanceBut in the dark,you can't tell if the hand you are holdingis the hand you were reaching for
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