She gropes in darkness, hoping for light, but none comes. Clouds and thick blackness surround her now. He casts her down to ruin so that she will never be rebuilt. Abandoned to her grave the decay crept deep into her bones. Her skin grows black and hardens, her heart follows suit. She prays the end is near. "Please grant me relief! How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart?"
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I see hell in my dreams. I want to interpret what this all means, but the details are both complete and fragmented. Maybe these dreams are dreams foretelling great change in my life. Maybe I am my own frightener.
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He created her, loving her before she had form. Shaping her lips, to kiss. Forming her cheeks, to flush. He worked his hands over the crude clay assembling her as she was in his mind, defect-less. Burning with excitement, he worked frenetically. Budding breasts, to touch upon. Molding curves, to absorb the attention of mankind. Casting eyes, to look upon him fondly. She was complete, minus a beating heart to love him, except breath to whisper his name.Back to top
She's not supposed to be perfect, no one is supposed to understand her. Her story is meant to be chaotic, meant to make you bewildered, meant to keep you wanting more. None of this makes sense, but it's all so delightfully nonsensical and I love it.
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Running at a feverish pace, the sensation of being chased fades and so she slows. She pauses, finding herself in what seems to be a lacuna, in a world without end. This place, it's barren of trees and shrubbery, blank of grass, bleached of growth, devoid of life in general. There's neither pain nor pleasure, neither happiness nor misery. She spins and spins and never gets vertigo because this place is not physical. In her mind. This is her own personal oubliette and she's damned herself. She sits cross legged, she interlaces her fingers. She looks up and just over her head in her dungeon, she can see him. She sees Artemis looming and she curses him inwardly.
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"I overcame the fiend." She thought as she hitched out of her hiding place and into an open clearing. She secures her heart all the same, locking in what wants to burst out.
The sun resigned unnoticed this day, a somber moon assumed its role. Artemis, ever so grim-faced is looming. Looking down upon only her, or so it seemed. The air held a slight chill, a mist was forming. The trees, stationed like soldiers, glowed eerily in the moonlight and fog. In the distance a lone figure huddled beneath the strange light.
Her vision honed a form glowing softly in the encompassing mist just ahead, She knew then that the hunt had resumed.
She hadn't even the chance to turn and to run. Her heart was racing, and her breath came in short gasps. She had no idea how to getaway, or exactly where she was to go. Resigned, she opened her arms and she fell. Perhaps, this game had gone on long enough. When she first saw him, it was his eyes that captured her. She lost her breath briefly as they stood facing each other.
He has managed to seize her, though I don't think he knows. The question now becomes, how is she to seize him? How is the hunted to become the hunter? The pursued to become the pursuer?Back to top
She wants to run from him, she wants run to him. Running, racing, heart pounding, tat-tat, tat-tat. The drumming of her feet, like hoof beats upon the earth as she runs, clank-clank-clank. She can hardly breath, her lungs are burning for that one deep breath she cannot catch. Because she knows, oh she knows that she must keep running. She steals a glance back, she hears the beast is drawing nigh, he's advancing on her with rapid strides. She knows it is no gentle chase, she's running for her heart.Back to top
The girl is not quite deserted, said the ghost. A solitary heart, neglected by the world, is left there still screaming in secret places, bated breath pleads "Please don't go! Don't leave me here alone."
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I wonder if it shows, the look of defeat all about me. Can they look into my eyes and tell I've abandoned hope? Does my face show my defeat? If they have noticed, would they care enough to ask? If they asked and I affirmed, would they then offer me their hand? I feel like a mannequin, anchored in this place, absolutely mesmerized by nothing in particular. My face is blank and featureless. Inside I'm both barren and ablaze. My blistered breath is devoured piece by peice, again and again by the flame that burns through-and-through. A burning that is profound and all consuming. This is not easy to write, to untangle the complex notion, a puzzle only making sense in my mind. The feeling of being, both devoid and blazing at one time.
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My eyes open, the morning light pouring in through the windows opposite of my bed. I'm aware of the warm bodies on either side of me, my children asleep surrounding me. Our bodies are close, our breathing synchronized, our minds could not be further apart. Each dreaming a different dream behind closed eyes. My dreams I don't recall upon waking, and I'm all the better because of that. Sadly, I know my dreams are not real. In their minds, a whimsical place in their minds, where cartoon characters sing silly tunes or adventures are had. I can merely speculate on what wonders are taking place, if I had to venture a guess, might be something like this: Acres and acres of bright colors, sing-a-long songs echo in the valley of Gumdrop Mountain, hand in hand with a beloved baby doll through the Lollipop Forest, a magical place where no one grows up, and everything is wonderful. Oh to know the dreams of sleeping children.
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I was always terrified of you, Jorge, because you actually made me feel something. I used to think love wasn't worth fighting for, but when I met you I was ready for that war. The truth is, I gave my heart away a long time ago, all of it, and I never really got it all back. But I gave you the best in me.
I still think about you all the time. Every couple of nights or so, I'll dream about you. I can't just get rid of you like you got rid of me, why didn't you face me? You know, just because something is unspoken doesn't mean that it disappears or that the hurt isn't there. I dunno that I want to know the truth. I may think I wanna know, but if I knew why, I'd prolly give just about anything to go back to being ignorant.
Maybe you and I got lost somewhere, I dunno. A broken heart is not what I wanted from this, but I will evolve in love. I'll find a heart that will love me at my worst and arms that will hold me at my weakest. But you, Jorge, you're always going to mean something to me. No matter what happens. you're always gonna be somewhere deep down inside me. I’ll never forget you and the way you made me feel.
Original thinkers, are you out there? Are we that rare? In all seriousness, hear my cry bloggers of the world, stop blogging only about family, obsessing over your kids, or trying to spread your religious bullshit. I'd like to read something that I don't already live every day. Follow my example, I don't blog, blogging is fucking stupid. I write. I wrote long before I ever signed up for Blogger. I write what I feel and I feel what I write. I'm tired of apologizing and being made to feel inadequate because my blog isn't entirely about my kids, or a significant other, or church. Yeah my kids are number one in my life, and I love them, but I didn't stop being an individual when I gave birth.
I awoke from a nightmare that felt so tangible only to realize that, the horror was unchanged in the sunlight. I'm alone again and it hurts. It's not a profound hurt, because I've been through worse than being dumped. I just wonder, what did I did wrong? What could I have done better? Was it me? Was it him? There are so many questions left with no answers, he's condemned me to wonder. It's a waking nightmare.
While doing the dishes, I seen the top of a blonde head go past the bar and said "Duncan! What ya doing?" He promptly popped his head and replied "Nothing!" For the dish doing duration, he had the top of his head down to his eyes in my line of vision and was giggling and staring at me. When I finished and walked around I seen he had removed his diaper and then it all made sense lol.
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I love darkness as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love it without knowing how, or when, or from where.
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Pain and sadness feel not the binds of time that has passed. It's been a year's time since I had then lost him. Ticking is my heart, because the clock that keeps my time it crawls not flies. "A part of you has grown in me, together forever we shall be, never apart maybe in distance but not in heart."
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I never asked for a knight to rescue me from a tower, just a man willing to see past my barriers. I never asked for a curse to be lifted, just show me something beautiful about life. I don't want a man to find my glass slipper, I just want him find a way to love me forever, even if I'm incomplete. I don't want prince charming, I just want him.
Even though months have passed and I'm not crying myself to sleep anymore, I still think of him and remember his smell, his touch.
Some days I miss him more than others. I guess this is just one of those days that I miss him way more than the day before. But lately all the days are blending together and I miss him more and more. Forever isn't long enough to get over giving him up. And even though I'm fortunate and I can see him and hear about him, it doesn't make me miss him any less. Missing someone isn't about how long it's been since you've seen them last or the amount of time you spent with them. It's about that very moment when you're doing something, and you wish that they were right there with you.
All of our lives we're told that someone out there is meant to be the love of our life, our best friend, our soul mate, that someday with someone we'd be happy. It's a short word that's easy to spell, difficult to define. I've been told it's impossible to live without. I'm really not looking for it, really not even sure I believe it exists. I just want a different ending to the same old story. Because he makes me smile for the weirdest reasons, because he makes me laugh for no reason whatsoever.
For the past 2 years or so, my fear has been being vulnerable. The chance that someone else, if given the chance, could possibly tear apart your insides was enough to keep me hiding from the world. He, however, makes my smile become permanent, laughter more frequent. He took away my fear and gave me hope, but more importantly, for the first time in a long time, instead of wanting to hide, he gave me every reason to be found. I don't know if it's love, if it's meant to be, if it'll last. I just know I'd rather survive a war with him, than stay safe all alone.
She's growing quickly and blooming into such a lovely little girl. Happy 7th birthday Jenna Leigh! I love you sweet pea!
Analyze me if you will, I'm a kindly-disposed, harsh-sounding, because yes that's also true. It's justI'm just not a very social person. I find it hard to make and keep friends and I will usually go out of my way to avoid contact with most people. This is why I don't make conversation unless I want to. I don't enjoy small talking. It's not because I am a nasty person, it's not because I am rude either.
I will tell you why! It's because it makes me extremely uncomfortable to talk to certain people. I feel as if my space is being invaded every time they open their mouths in my direction. I feel like I can't converse, I have nothing to say and my brain shuts down completely as soon as you utter your first words to me. What do I say now? What if it's the wrong thing? When I find myself in this situation it makes me feel like running far away, I feel as if I need to be as far away from you as possible so that we can just stop talking and I can go back to feeling comfortable again.
For this reason I tend to be short with people, I use one word answers, I don't elaborate and I admit I will even be snappy. All just to get you to leave me alone so that I don't feel uncomfortable. I avoid looking at people I don't feel comfortable around in the eye so that they won't talk to me. I refuse to be alone in a room with someone whom I don't want to talk to.
Also people may think I am just rude, which is understandable, but they really dont know what is happening inside me during a conversation. So next time someone gives you a one word answer, or is short, consider maybe that they have issues that they are dealing with that may make them act that way towards you. There is always more below the surface than there seems.
Captivated by the green and gray of the passing interstate outside my window, this lengthy car ride is more tranquilizing than a large dose of narcotics. Then I hear the radio whisper "And, Yes, I've dreamt of you too". In my head "That song. Our song" like a thunderbolt, I'm shocked by the rumble that jolted through me. Aches and pains, inside and out, like a fresh trauma. "It's been so long. I should be okay by now."
Jenna and Duncan are the one and only purpose for which I survive. They are my H20, my oxygen, the nutrients absorbed into my body and soul. In the absence of that, which I need, I would cease to be. They are literally my everything. Brayden seems like a dream to me, an unattainable dream that I can never forget. I can never forget him but he will never remember me.
Speeding bullet, dead set and aimed right for my heart. I think I'll remove my bulletproof vest and take a chance. This might very well kill me. I will see Brayden, hold him, then kiss his sweet little face goodbye again. Hairline trigger, please do it for me.
Care to feed the madness?