Why am I here? What do I hope to achieve? Is this really me? or is the echo of a dream that was long ago ripped away?
I can't bring myself to say it aloud, I cringe when anything is mentioned I fear that I open myself to mockery, to hateful words, to bare my soul and have it laughed away, but I try, secretly. I lock myself away, in my own little world and I fight against it, everyday,
Why do I do this, is the dream worth it? Will I ever make something of it or will it fade away. never to be seen, my words to never hit the minds of those that need to hear it,
Yes, need to.
This isn't my choice, this is my calling,
I don't know how, I don't know why, or where or when,
But this is me, this is all of me,
An I need to make it happen,
I need to swallow the fear, risk the hate, and I need to try.
To thine own self be true, isn't that what they say?
I need to step up, and claim that which I know is mine.
I need to scream it from the rooftops,.
I am WORTHY!
Behold, for it has begun.
My tale, My story.
Is now yours.
I had a dream about you, one that made me feel so loved it was magic. I woke up that morning and you were there, your arm slung over my waist and I could hear you breathing. And for a short moment in my still sleepy haze I couldn't remember where our night had ended and where my dream began. I couldn't tell the difference between my fantasy and our reality. And in that moment I felt so loved and it was magic, just like my dream. So I drifted back to sleep, you breathing quietly next to me. And that's when I realized that you're dangerous. You're everywhere in my dreams and reality. So please, please, baby don't shatter me.
I never thought I would be where I am: on the shores under the night sky with nothing on my mind. I never thought I’d have time to ponder things like “love” and “mercy.” I guess I’ve always been pre-occupied with the grains of sand hurling and tumbling down the hourglass. And I want to be a slow-motion sand grain (the very last one to slide through that narrow passage from what was above to what is below). And when I pounce on the pile, from my inevitable and reverent fall, the celebration will begin and all my lovers and all my companions and all my mentors and all my antagonists converge at a shore, under the sky, by the bonfire, and then begins real fellowship. Soon. I never thought I’d be here, pondering these simple things.
I've feared falling in love for so long, that I hadn't realized it was already happening. You're gnarly, and you don't apologize for it--except at 1:00am in drive thru lines. As you mumble apologies about your emotional setbacks in the middle of asking if at least the sex is good enough to make up for it all. And all I can do is laugh and tell you that we're fine. You're drunk, and I'm taking you home. You're being sweet, and rambling about how much you like me. You're asking how I'm okay with all of your flaws and I don't have an answer, i just am. I don't think about it, I just feel it, and when I listen to the beat of your heart late at night I know that you're really just human, and that you're feelings and faults are just human too.
fires burn throughout the parallel dimensions of our lives. what is a person other than a temporary contraction of matter, that waddles through the burning world trying to become something transcendent? it's metaphysical jazz and nobody knows how it will go. we try not to think about it, but we poked by a divide, a wide wide variety of possibilities. years... we might get 30 more, we might get 5. we start epic projects without knowing if we will have anywhere near the time necessary to complete them. we push the boulder and manage the crop. we plan out things, schedule our time. the world is on fire while we scamper to transcend. "we're running out of time!" metaphysical jazz bullies us, and we've no choice but to dance.