There are people who take
But Love, Real Love does exist
I Refuse to give Less than I am
I’m sorry that’s scary
Month: May 2017
I’m nuts
I’m nuts
Completely crazy
I love hard
I love freely
I love with everything that I am
If I give my word, I keep it
I’m told that makes me different
I’m told that makes me crazy
Sanity at the price of love and honor
I will never pay that price
If I be alone forever
As terrifying as that is
I will
NEVER
Pay
That
Price.
I just had the worst dream.
I just had the worst dream.
I sometimes dream of other paths I could have taken, other words I could have said.
And I dreamed we were deliriously happy. Because I’d said the right thing in the right way. I did not spin out. Wasn’t depressed, so I said the thing that made all the difference. In the dream you were looking at a sign that said 67 or 62 miles to Phoenix. Whatever I’d said got you moving towards me like two magnets with an irresistible pull. I’d love to know what I said. I’d say it now. Even knowing that now is probably too late.
The bleakness of hope
I’ve been trying not to get here for a long time. I just don’t see a way past this pain. Every ray of hope becomes a lance to my heart. Every turn on the wheel gives a chance that never resolves itself. I’m so alone and I can’t find my way out. I can help others but never myself. My choices only lead to more pain. I can barely breathe. And I wish that I just wasn’t.
I don’t think…I know
I want the smell of you on my skin
The taste of you on my tongue
I need the sound of your voice in my ears
I need to drink you with my eyes
And know that you are mine
…and that I am yours.
Dream of other selves
I dreamed of a young seeker approaching a sprawling mansion complex. To call it a mansion is to call the Marianas trench a hole in the ground
I had prior dreamed of the approach to the mansion of lives lived that brought the seeker to this place. Of people they had been and had since forgotten as one life bleeds into the next.
The seeker must answer a math problem. The math problem is one of rounding but in a system of math that is not often used and the numbers are different from base 10.
The seeker, a woman, fails twice. So flustered by the foreign experience. I fear I influenced her and instead of trying a third time we held the keypress that would generate the infinity symbol.
I sensed that the seeker had been here before and she was able to get in normally prior. When the symbol was entered a number of options was shown. Normal entrance included. But information and other experiences as well. The various rejection possibilities, the death possibilities, in addition bits of legendary knowledge, actual curated data on things that have never been but might be again.
The seeker chose a normal entrance.
But I was not the seeker. I was an observer behind her eyes. No I was the man she was going to see. A version of me. A version who had plundered his dreams and acquired wealth and knowledge. Both things I enjoy. And still he was profoundly unhappy. This permeated the whole complex. Lush gardens and miniature rainforests, paintings stolen from museums and replaced by facsimiles, beauty abounded. And still the man, a version of me, was empty.
I am describing a bare portion of everything. It was a whole world and it now sits behind my eyes.
Undiscovered
I wonder if anyone realizes the shear quantity, and maybe quality, of things I don’t publish.
Song of the Day
Perfection is not good enough
I am no one’s perfect day.
No ones idea of a perfect person.
But what I can be is a man striving, struggling to that point of ache
of nearly perfect that settles in
like a dull pain and promises a hint
of perhaps
perhaps tomorrow.
Indescribable weight
I can feel it coming
A formless tide
Grinding past defenses grown weak
Burned up by stress and hope
Beautiful Sky serves only as counterpoint
A reminder that others feel joy
and here I am
Broken and breaking
