Sometimes i wish really hard that i knew where life was taking me. Whether the paths i have chosen will take me closer or father away from my dreams. I need a new perspective almost everyday on things i see everyday! Its almost as if what worked last night, its oh so not working by this afternoon. Its all a collossal waste of time, this figuring out the solutions. They work only for the moment, and sometimes not even then.
Life of course has its own wicked sense of humour. The more i distance myself from events, the harder it pushes me towards the demons. I run sometimes, sometimes i hide. But not for long. I dunno if its my nature or my destiny, but i cannot not resolve matters. They have to be dealt with, sorted into neat little piles in my mind. Some stashed away for posterity, others put through the shredder. And when i move on, i fool myself into believing that i have truly forgotten all that i wanted to be left behind. Alas! Life catches on. Memories that were never meant to be, oh they come rushing back. But i destroyed them, i say. Thrust them in a bottle, shoved in the cork and flung the bottle far out to sea. All life does, is smirk at me.
And i know, its a battle lost. Again. Its like life itself is pretty bored. So it weaves these patterns and throws in colours galore. Shades of primaries, tints of greys, dollops of sunny yellows and fresh greens. Blue, well its sometimes the colour of the season, but if you've been around the block and back, you know there's magenta waiting ahead. It takes its time finishing the art, sometimes its scratchy, sometimes its not. But all i know, is this bit of truth, its all beyond us, sometimes its fluke.
Ah! You ramble yet again. I stop myself, avoid the pain. Angel of laughter, birds of flight, i crave your company, I miss those times. Every one of the little monsters are back, i try to fight them, i use a new tack. Climb atop the mountains, swim the seas, dig a hole in the ground and tunnel through trees. I wish i could just, rush away, stick to my guns and refrain from sway.
When i leave this home of mine, i want to carry the sands of time. Clutched in the palm of my hand, the map to never, neverland. Cloudy and sunny both at once, makes me feel, like the class dunce. Figuring out the map out of here, I cannot not face my fear.
