Thursday, February 27, 2014
There is something so wonderful about a good drive. I intentionally drove the "long" way up to Rocklin. I took the "fast" way back. The rain came in sheets of sudden splashes and bits and starts. The hills rose and fell around me. The road curved in delightful ways under my wheels. I could drive roads like that for ever. Ever changing, scenery popping up at the sides, sudden surprises of beauty. Music up loud. Mind gone to peace and bliss with "go"
(NOTE to those reading into this. This is NOT a cry for help or a hint that I'm actually leaving. I'm just having a "Day" a funk. This is how I work through these. Don't like it? Don't read. Just fuck off. As I've said before, this blog is for ME! This is a place I put some of my excess shit. )
You are so fucking beautiful.
It's never been fair. I know. I know. It means more to me. I know. I know. So I shut up. I dream. Inside an alternate reality somewhere I keep a version of you. Right there with all the other people I love. It's okay. I know. I know. Not mine. Not ever. I belong to no one. I belong to everyone. I belong to him.
I'd run. I'd go. But there is no where to run to. No where to go. I'd miss everything left behind. And I can't get away from myself no matter how far I go.
There is a Lady in Tennessee. I would go to her. I'd hold out my empty hands and offer her myself. She'd take me. She loves me. I love her. But I don't. I don't. There's a girl in Kentucky. I'd gladly hold out my empty hands. She'd take them and tie them and we'd keep each other very warm indeed. We'd slip together into madness and debauchery. She wants me. I want her. But I don't. I don't. There's a man.. there are many men. I'd go to him and hold out my hands... and he' take them and seal me into another contract. Another promise I just don't want to keep. I won't. I won't.
Those are dreams. Moments. Things that won't be that can't be.
I am content. Not joyous or fulfilled, but content. My distress is my own doing. My disillusionment is my own doing. My problems are of my own making. So I make the best. It is not a bad situation. I love my man. I take care of the one I love. I take care of the one I'm with. I am loved. I am taken care of.
Just because I want to flee. I want to run... I don't. I don't.
Freedom is a beautiful dream. Freedom is an impossible dream.
But you are so damn beautiful. I remember what it is to wish again. I remember what it is to dream again. I remember what it is.. to live.
And I don't want you. And I don't need you. But I'd like to take you.. I'd like to steal you away. Because you make me remember. I ache. I sob. I pout and move foreword.
Because there's no going back and starting again.
But give me a few moments. Be my ray of sunshine. Be my light in this self formed darkness. Because, you are so beautiful. So. Damn. Beautiful.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
(I'm going to beat my muse bloody today.. I apologize. )
I touched the sun.
He blazed and burned. He warmed my soft sweet heart.
He does every time. So many tiny suns in the sky. A night pinpointed with tiny suns. I want to touch them all. I want to be a light.
A quasar. A supernova. A comet. A story.
Instead I am a minor character. Supporting role. Backup spear carrier number three.
That girl with the crooked smile you knew one time. Here and gone. You miss her sometimes.
No more then a passing fancy am I. No burning bush. No life changing event.
Just a smile on a Tuesday afternoon.
Do I leave more then a trace? Is it worth it? All my struggle?
I want to be the main character in the story of my life, but even here I am support. Backup. Useful plot development, sure, but just support.
How do you become the star in your own story? How do you BURN!?!
Without your paste on feathers melting away in the first touch of truths harsh light..
How do I glow without loosing my spark?
Make me true. Make me real.
I don't want to be summers millionth dandelion, loosing my beauty helplessly into the breeze only to die away.