I dream in vivid colour, in excruciating detail. The world in my head threatens to overwhelm the world occurring around me. I interact with the former more than the latter. I participate. I create. I live. And then I wake and I stand still and I watch. I write, but the words stay shut in the book and never see the light again.
Telling myself over and over to "get up!", to build higher and do more and be audacious. Yet here I stand. Waves crash around my feet and the shifting sands give me the illusion that the world is moving and changing and I can actually feel it turn on it's axis. But it is an illusion. Its a beautiful illusion; it keeps me planted here in this spot. The world is turning but I'm just standing still letting it continue forward, to keep going, to evolve in the way that I cannot.
Saturday, 22 June 2013
earth
Thursday, 20 June 2013
words and getting older
I feel like I've lost my way in regards to this blog. What was it that I hoped to achieve from this space? I've almost forgotten.
A small part of me always grieves for that girl. So young, she could never know how truly young she was. And though that time of crippling loneliness passed in what now feels like a blink of an eye, those months will feel like an eternity to her. How I wish to sit with her in that beautiful sanctuary that felt so many miles from the ugliness of the world. I would tell her tales of a wonderful life since her demise. But she is gone. Time has stolen her away from me and I will never be able to tell her how truly magnificent she really was.
I haven't been blogging much lately, things have been just slightly askew. I could not figure out what was missing, but something was off. It turned out to be more than just a little something. Purple and green are the colours of the aliens I used to draw as a child. How strange it is that as an adult I must take pills of those colours every day. This past week has shown me that my need for them has not waned. Not yet. I must be more diligent. I must be more responsible with my most precious of organs. I had forgotten that sadness. How did it not occur to me that my constant headaches might be a cry for help, for those synthetic hormones that keep me balanced. It can be hard to find joy when all you feel is pain. I cried to Tom today "it hurts so much" and he thought I referred to my head, but it is life that causes the most pain.
A small part of me always grieves for that girl. So young, she could never know how truly young she was. And though that time of crippling loneliness passed in what now feels like a blink of an eye, those months will feel like an eternity to her. How I wish to sit with her in that beautiful sanctuary that felt so many miles from the ugliness of the world. I would tell her tales of a wonderful life since her demise. But she is gone. Time has stolen her away from me and I will never be able to tell her how truly magnificent she really was.
I haven't been blogging much lately, things have been just slightly askew. I could not figure out what was missing, but something was off. It turned out to be more than just a little something. Purple and green are the colours of the aliens I used to draw as a child. How strange it is that as an adult I must take pills of those colours every day. This past week has shown me that my need for them has not waned. Not yet. I must be more diligent. I must be more responsible with my most precious of organs. I had forgotten that sadness. How did it not occur to me that my constant headaches might be a cry for help, for those synthetic hormones that keep me balanced. It can be hard to find joy when all you feel is pain. I cried to Tom today "it hurts so much" and he thought I referred to my head, but it is life that causes the most pain.