Can I vent? Is that okay with you guys? I started trying to write poetry or prose or something organized and beautiful for you all, full of prettily placed words and mind-fucking phrases. But it's not working, and there is still so much I feel like saying even though none of the thoughts are fully forming in my head. You know those days, when you're overwhelmed and it's impossible to pinpoint one reason why, there's nowhere to go to let yourself fly above it, you haven't got a way to free yourself.
For one adept at manipulating the english language, I tire so of words. There are a hundred ways to say a thing, but the feeling of it resists mutation - you're stuck with the emotions inside of you I suppose, for better or worse. (Every rant needs a cliche or two) Twisting them around into phrases to get them away from you, for only a moment, sometimes helps - but I grow weary of trying.
Think of the way that darkness feels around you. You've lain in bed on a hot night, covers thrown back, air barely moving except in your lungs, time is so thick without moving that you forget that you are alive for a moment. A silence that could drive a man mad after too long. I crave that moment every day. It's not forgetting that you're alive that makes it so potent, it's remembering that you are. That split second of peace where you don't have the need to think at all, there are no words flowing through you, you've only to feel.
I'm no good at being unsure of myself, it was always just an annoyance that cropped up on an occasional bad week. There is no reason for me to have it around me now, so I've disposed of all of that once again. Now I'm left without it and I feel bored without the challenge of myself. Crazy, I know, but I want my quiet back. It was there briefly in April when she lay on the bed with me and played me her song. I had peace then. It was for a minute when he and I slow-danced in the kitchen, he gives me the calm that comes with strength. Conversations with another have brought me flashes of the silence, strangely enough, but he just has that way about him. I am on a journey towards a place of nothingness. Not to stay there, only to keep a piece of it with me so that I don't have to weep for the lack of quiet anymore.
For one adept at manipulating the english language, I tire so of words. There are a hundred ways to say a thing, but the feeling of it resists mutation - you're stuck with the emotions inside of you I suppose, for better or worse. (Every rant needs a cliche or two) Twisting them around into phrases to get them away from you, for only a moment, sometimes helps - but I grow weary of trying.
Think of the way that darkness feels around you. You've lain in bed on a hot night, covers thrown back, air barely moving except in your lungs, time is so thick without moving that you forget that you are alive for a moment. A silence that could drive a man mad after too long. I crave that moment every day. It's not forgetting that you're alive that makes it so potent, it's remembering that you are. That split second of peace where you don't have the need to think at all, there are no words flowing through you, you've only to feel.
I'm no good at being unsure of myself, it was always just an annoyance that cropped up on an occasional bad week. There is no reason for me to have it around me now, so I've disposed of all of that once again. Now I'm left without it and I feel bored without the challenge of myself. Crazy, I know, but I want my quiet back. It was there briefly in April when she lay on the bed with me and played me her song. I had peace then. It was for a minute when he and I slow-danced in the kitchen, he gives me the calm that comes with strength. Conversations with another have brought me flashes of the silence, strangely enough, but he just has that way about him. I am on a journey towards a place of nothingness. Not to stay there, only to keep a piece of it with me so that I don't have to weep for the lack of quiet anymore.
I can relate to your rant...totally feelin' it today.
