Died on this hill...

I'm still not quite sure why things had to happen this way. What specifically I did to cause such an intense reckoning with myself. I don't understand the reasons for causing each other pain. But mere understanding wouldn't chase away the hurt. It does not call upon the sun when dark clouds have loomed over me. Let the rain come then if it must come. And let it wash away the dust that hurt my eyes.

No matter how hard he tried to maintain his calm and collected persona, he knew it was all a ruse. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hide. Hide from the world. Hide from her memories and this awful, dreadful year that he is leaving behind. If only he could enter a shell and never leave. But his would always be a broken shell, with all her cracks and holes exposed for the world to see. The veneer he had carefully painted to protect and hold himself together was peeling away. There's nowhere left to go.

But you learned to survive...

It was a very ordinary day, the day he realised that his becoming is his life and his home and that he doesn't have to do anything but trust the process, trust his story and enjoy the journey. It doesn't really matter who he's become by the finish line, the important things are the changes from this morning to when he falls asleep again, and how they happened, and who they happened with. The day he saw flowers and learned how to turn his daily struggles into the most extraordinary moments. Moments worth writing about. For so long he let his life slip through his fingers, like water. He's holding on to it now, and he's not letting go.

Losing self control...

So it goes, so it goes, so it goes...

Poison spreading to my lungs,

I'm not holding my breath, 

not holding any faith at all.

And I'll pray for you, 

be in pain for you.

I'll leave the porch light on,

heartbroken, each morning,

when it's me that turns it off.

Only do what pain allows...

The waiting. The wanting. Something inside me snaps. And I hate myself for it. And I hate those around me who contributed to it. And I hate how I've failed, and how others have failed me. I hate that I have to deal with this. And I hate how I can't count on anyone to be completely there when I need them, exactly the way I need them to be. And then I can't even sleep, because of my noisy brain. No matter how tired I am. It's impossible to accomplish anything but lying here in bed. Frustrated and victimized at three in the morning.

The world has changed his heart...

But it all adds up to nothing...

It's that feeling I get somehow knowing that something great is about to happen. While every passing day nothing great really does happen. I wake up, go to work, exercise, play my games, sleep and wait for another monotonous day. I know the great day is not tomorrow, not even the day after, not even in a week or a month's time. 

But it will come soon, the way you meet someone without expecting or knowing that you are going to have so much fun together. It will come soon, the way dreams come true overnight, demanding years of perspiration, ironically. It will come soon like a gush of cold air in a hot afternoon. It will come soon like a stranger you feel you have already met. It will come like a guest who would be here to stay. It will come like an eternity, a serendipity, an irony. It will come when it is time for it to come, the way you fall asleep and dreams arrive from a distant land, surely but stealthily.

If I stay the course, I could get it right...

A river doesn't hold a grudge against a rock in its path. A leaf doesn't refuse to blow in the breeze. It allows itself to be spun around and then lands gently, once the storm has passed. A plant doesn't deny water or sunshine. I know all this, yet here I am, struggling to keep myself afloat. I have been given the gift of self-awareness, but it is quickly turning into self-destruction. Here is what I must accept: I have appeared from nowhere, I will disappear into nowhere, and on the way I am madly running, not really enjoying what is now and here. I must let whatever comes, come. Let whatever goes, go. I will stop demanding. I won't regret. Won't cling. Won't control. I will simply flow. I will let it go.

Running through my head...

The voices of my conscience hitting ground...

When I was a young boy, I was honest,

and I had more self control.

If I was tempted I would run,

then when I got older I began to lie,

to get exactly what I wanted,

when I wanted it, and I wanted it.

Now I'm having trouble differentiating

between what I want and what I need

to make me happy.

So instead of thinking, I just act

before I have a chance to contemplate

the consequence of action.

Aperture lets the light in...

Certainly something had happened to me during the night. Or after months of tension I had arrived at the edge of some precipice and now I was falling, as in a dream, slowly. Even as I continued to hold my heart and try to calm its beating, even as I stood tall, trying to catch my breath, even as I felt myself solidly contained by the expectant looks of those who love me. It was the fault of the circumstances that had been inflicted on us in recent months. But enough, I had to tear the pain from memory, I had to sandpaper away the scratches that were damaging my brain. Enough.

Setting the bar beyond the stars...

Close to closing time...

If I cannot fix your broken heart, can I put mine in its place? Because these stars are not enough, and what our life was supposed to be, has left both of us in the lurch. We promised each other more, and who really is to blame, when both of us failed one another? Failed deeply and at the same time. 

It began raining harder and his thoughts drifted towards the waterfall from the night before. He wondered if the water might work itself into a frenzy around him and drag him down the cliff with it. Flash floods were becoming a common thing in his life; they came every time it rained. It kept coming down, harder and harder. He cozied up closer to the frigid rock and buried himself deeper between the rubble. By this point, the rain was building into streams and flowing off the rocks around him. He sat there in the fetal position, wondering if the rain was going to sweep him from his feeble perch and down into the dark abyss.

A dream, aloud...

Karr lives in fantasy...

I felt fully awake most of the time, but sometimes while I was awake it felt as if I were dreaming. In this dream state I didn't feel like me, the real me. I felt numb. My fingers prickled. My eyes in the mirror's reflection were glazed like the eyes of a mannequin in a shop window, my colour, my shape, but without light or focus. The weeping fit would pass and I would drag myself back to the mirror expecting to see a child version of myself. Who are you? I'd ask. I could hear the words; it sounded like me but it wasn't me. I'd watch my lips moving and say it again, who are you?

Holes in my pockets...

Lately, I don't feel inspired,

wish I was a better liar.

It's too late to be this early,

heaven knows you tried to hurt me,

maybe that's why I blame the moon.