This fate of mine...

I knew I was broken too. I was scared and anxious and sad lots of the time, and I didn't know why. Sometimes we really aren't supposed to be the way we are. It's not good for us. And people don't like it. I've got to change. I've got to try harder and do deep breathing and maybe one day learn tricks so I can pretend to be more like other people. But maybe she was right all along, and all those other people were broken too in their own ways. Maybe we all spent too much time pretending we weren't.

Hit the wall...

He is not ruin, no lighting-struck tree: he is green and vigorous. Plants will grow about his roots, whether he asks them or not, because they take delight in his bountiful shadow; and as they grow they will lean towards him, and wind round him, because his strength offers them so safe a prop.

I'm not sure about all the particulars that led to this moment. Do I believe life is a series of dots to be connected, or that no one can outrun destiny, or that all roads lead to truth and coincidence is a lie to distract us? The reason I was in this place no longer mattered. The harsh reality stared me in the face and demanded an immediate decision. Walk away and blame it on fate. Or stay and try to find a way out of the mess I find myself in. Who am I kidding? A mess I intentionally created. 

My home for tonight...

Know I'm not blind...

Of course, in the stories I read and would want to write about, people's hearts break, and they die, and that is the end of it; and in a story this is very convenient. But in real life we do not die when all that makes life bright dies to us. There is a most busy and important round of eating, drinking, dressing, walking, visiting, buying, selling, talking, reading, and all that makes up what is commonly called living, yet to be gone through. And that is by far the absolute worst thing about this journey; that it goes on, even when every fiber of my being would want it to hold still, just for a moment.

Too little, too late...

I've got nothing on,

but my hands are tied.

So save your breath, 

you'll need it dear,

it’s cold out on that limb, I hear.

Isn't it funny how much you see,

when you stop moving fast?

Slowly getting better...

When days are long, I drift away...

I'm trying to catch a new rhythm. A peace of mind that will prepare me for both grandeur and failure. More so the win, failure I've gotten quite accustomed to. I've wondered a lot recently, if I'll ever reach the top of the mountain again, or if I'm destined to trail the summit and then turn back just as the peak comes into view. I wouldn't mind, the journey is still quite beautiful, and I find a bit solace, that I am not alone. Perhaps this is the natural realisation of every life. How one is human, inherently weak and unimportant. I've got some strength left, so I'll keep walking for a bit longer. What I'm trying to say is that I wouldn't mind turning around. I wouldn't mind at all. 

There go all my high hopes...

I feel like I'm in the dark...

Nobody thought it could be done, so nobody had tried before. Standing with one foot in the abyss and the other with a foothold in his dreams, he stood on the edge of a cliff. He took one look behind and with one last deep breath, he leapt with reckless certainty and decisive confidence. Blurring through the sky, for a moment he looked like he would fade into darkness, but in the very last moment when everyone else had given up on him, from his back spread wings. With a leap of faith, he learned to fly.

Have you ever thought; while looking all this time for the magic in the world, it's been inside you all along? For me, it seems that no matter how far I travelled, how wide I spread my wings and learn to fly, the only real comfort I was ever able to find was within me. It's been very hard to accept though. The notion that I am self sufficient, and what that means for my friendships, relationship and family. If I don't need anyone, why have someone at all? If the treasure is inside me, why keep on searching for it in places I know it could never be?

Let me free your mind...

Let me ease your pain,

there's a feeling that I can't erase,

I promise you, I won't give up,

tell me that you feel the same.

You are the place I go to hide,

every day, every night,

love is, love is kind.

Like a train off the track...

When skies are always summertime blue...

It's quite the irony that the writer is unable to finish what is essentially just a longer layout of words. It's a special kind of hell knowing that you are capable of doing something, but unable to navigate the labyrinth of your own mind. Unable to direct your thoughts to put pen onto paper and just fucking finish what you started. That's why I'm not so secretly hoping to simply be derailed by something out of control. That way I can cling to the notion of being denied, instead of throwing in the towel. Not sure it makes a difference though, the ending is the same. Once again, the boy who wanted to fly, realizes that in fact, he does not have wings.

Anything he was...

Fires burn up canyons...

In my daydreams and fantasises I become timeless. I can stretch one breath to the infinite, nestle deep into that single heartbeat, and create something wondrously impossible. I can shape countless new worlds and live each of those imaginary lives to their fullest. As many lives as I want, and in any direction. But I don't know at what point that breath, that heartbeat, will reclaim me and transform everything I've built into forgotten dust. Not even a full memory, only a ghost of a dream, replaced by the incessant light demanding that my body adheres to a reality it so desperately wants to escape from.

Wash my worries away...

Say you want the moon,

watch me learn to fly.

Ain't no mountain you could point to,

I wouldn't climb.

It's crazy, but it's true,

there's nothing I won't do,

I'd risk it all for you.

I can't need this anymore...

I think I need to empty my mind, and relax each other muscle group until I feel like I'm going to melt into the floor. Then I just have to let it all go. All the expectations, all the unneeded worry, all the things other people want for me but I don't want myself.

It's getting quite hard to understand what exactly is wrong with me. And very much impossible to articulate it. I can hear myself saying words that make sense in my head, but I keep hitting a wall with people that are supposed to get me the most. How many more times and in how many more ways can I say that I've had enough? That I need a break. Even if it's filled with delusion, I just want a moment of peace. But I think I'm slowly starting to realize, as we get older, that is a luxury none of us are really awarded. It's just a constant barrage of life happening all at once. Time folds into itself, and unhealed bruises bleed out into the future.