"walk out that door, see if i care, go on and go...",
"i won't miss your arms around me... holding me tight..."
"i would survive, i'll make it through... i'll even learn to live...",
As he walks away, he feels the pain getting strong... too proud to turn around, he's gone!
I watch in slow motion, as it goes up in flames - that thing... that could not be named.
In love, no one can harm anyone else; we are each of us responsible for our own feelings and cannot blame others for what we feel. That is the true experience of freedom: having the most important thing in the world without owning it." so says Maria in Eleven Minutes
How do you then deal with bleeding to death without a pinch? Dumb and Numb?
Do you ever go back and read your own archives? Or to the days when blogging wasn't invented and keeping a daily journal was the stand-in for the girl. Cliched? And, then not so much! Like a time capsule seeing me small, gawky and growing up. Grown up, kiddish and resilient!
Another thing from going back how overtly sensitive one was. How, one smile from a stranger, lit up the days on end and one stare from ma was heart breaking! How even when the heart broke into thousand pieces, the spirit hung around like the best friend, a quiet stronghold. How, when the spirit tethered on the edge, mind took over and said "its not really end of the world" and how when mind was tailspinning, the books took all the vent- bearing out the cryogenic steam, stolidly.
Now, not so much. I can’t put my finger on it, but I do think something has changed. Maybe too much of breaking down and breaking up, is now taking the hit! There is less passion or something…and more business now. Maybe? Or, un-wittingly i created horcruxes of my soul, not to be immortal but to be able to survive.
The hearts is surrounded by smog today! From inside in here, i cant see the spring at all...they keep telling me its just round the corner! Maybe i am stuck in a maze with no corners to turn. Went for a walk; picked up few candy-floss-willows moments and rubbed them against my cheeks. Soft. Softer. Me better? The sky, the city skyline and the hills blend, things become smudged, things became silhouettes of themselves: telephone poles, pigeons perched on wires, rooftops, the details blurred with moisture.
I splashed in every puddle, i had carefully treaded around in the past. Without a promise of better road ahead, why did i go back? All the way to, pixie haircut, school skirt too long and frame too short days?? I perhaps should have done this before? Much before? Walking around like a caricature of all my selves isnt the done thing, i guess! For once, am getting my hands on things: in the mud, in the wet grass, in the sky. The sky is white on white. And, slowly the sky turns inky blue, freckled with moon-lit clouds! Am looking for stars to count but sleep doesn't want to be friends with me any more... neither are there stars tonight.