Because You Love Me, You Love Me, Let Me Go

Last winter I was sleeping in my sister's room. I couldn't sleep in my room, still don't know why. Anyways, when the trees are all bare, and the sky behind them is gray with the snow clouds the branches look like silhouettes against it. Over winter break, when Justin left, I would lie in my sister's room and stare at the trees. Everything felt so cold. From the one window the way the branches laid against each other, I could see a woman's face in them. She seemed so sad, like the trees themselves were holding her down, keeping her there. And when the wind blew it looked like she was trying to escape. But she never could. I would lie there for hours staring at her, staring at the blank gray spaces that were her eyes. The sky is that same gray color, a white that's not really white, but there are leaves still. Makes me wonder if she's still there, or if the trees grew and she finally got out.

Through the Fire and Flames

A wise man once said that we have to experience great pains in order to experience great joys. I am still not sure if I agree with this, but I have no decent argument against it either. While I would like to think that one could be happy without pain nor discomfort, do we really deserve such happiness without the blood that precedes it? Further more, do we really deserve the pain we get in the first place? What is it that I have done to deserve this? Who have I wronged so greatly to deserve these burns? I am starting to truly believe that I do deserve it, if not by something I’ve done, then by simply being who I am. There are good people and there are bad and I popped out the later of the two.

Do You Believe You're Missing Out?

It’s a strange feeling, looking back. Sitting here now, in the park right by the water, feeling the slight breeze, the sun, the shade, the stones, even the mist if I try hard enough, that thought occurred to me. Strange describes it perfectly. Strange to think I once thought I was better. Strange how easily that illusion was shattered, falling down like a house of glass cards, crumbling into a million different pieces too far gone to even offer the slightest bit of hope. Strange to picture this time one year ago. Just strange.

So I’m sitting here, the absurdness of it all coming down on me hard, and there is this goose that keeps floating back and forth in front of me. I seem to be taking in all the little meaningless detail and missing the big picture. Wish I could see it. Filter out the static and see from a distance. But my eyes are like magnifying lenses and all I can focus on are the little things, everything else is blurred and upside-down. Wish I could see clearly as well. See the whole you, not just the details I’m left with to piece together like some fucked up, gothic version of a Picasso.