I think it's nice to be free, to change the way things used to be.
It's strange how life comes back and hits you hard on the face. It constantly reminds you that yep, sometimes you can be invincible.
Your ideals somehow never existed, as it's supposed to be. It's surprising how calm it feels inside.
Maybe this is happiness - roam free, no expectations, detached.
I miss my cats. But they are good. They are happy. That's all that matters. I can go on now. Move forward. Nothing to go back to.
----
you make me buzz.
I like this buzz.
-----
We are the children of a non-revolution.
We are glimpsed at and people wonder at our placid fights.
Flip quarters, you might just understand.
We strive to put our thoughts in place and then strive to find the right way to express them.
We are new everyday.
Peeling off layers of the unnecessary.
We are the lost children.
-------
He told me we would travel.
Far and beyond these few lanes, where the whisper of the trees are overtly familiar.
I believed him.
I dreamt because I believed even if I didn't want to.
----
Liberation comes from a thought; strange how liberation comes from no thoughts as well.
-----
It's strange how life comes back and hits you hard on the face. It constantly reminds you that yep, sometimes you can be invincible.
Your ideals somehow never existed, as it's supposed to be. It's surprising how calm it feels inside.
Maybe this is happiness - roam free, no expectations, detached.
I miss my cats. But they are good. They are happy. That's all that matters. I can go on now. Move forward. Nothing to go back to.
----
you make me buzz.
I like this buzz.
-----
We are the children of a non-revolution.
We are glimpsed at and people wonder at our placid fights.
Flip quarters, you might just understand.
We strive to put our thoughts in place and then strive to find the right way to express them.
We are new everyday.
Peeling off layers of the unnecessary.
We are the lost children.
-------
He told me we would travel.
Far and beyond these few lanes, where the whisper of the trees are overtly familiar.
I believed him.
I dreamt because I believed even if I didn't want to.
----
Liberation comes from a thought; strange how liberation comes from no thoughts as well.
-----
4 comments:
These little thoughts unrelated from each other can be so easily woven into a person.
The last one is my favorite.
Ever wonder that the life you live has been lived before?
"the creek climbed his legs in wild batwings.ballard tottered and rebalanced and went on.before he even reached the creekbed he was wading kneedeeep.when it reached his waist he began to curse aloud.a vitriolic invocatiion for the receding of the waters.anyone watching him could have seen he would not turn back if the creek swallowed him under.it did.he wasin fast water to his chest..."
"...lester ballard and the log bore on into the the rapids below the ford and ballard was lost in a pandemonium of noises,the rifle aloft in one arm now like some demented hero or a bedraggled parody of a patriotic poster come aswamp and his mouth wide open for the howling of oaths until the log swept into a deeper pool and rolled and the waters closed over him.
he came up flailing and sputtering and began to thrash his way toward the line of willows that marked the submerged creek bank.he could not swim,but how would you drown him?his wrath seemed to buoy him up.some halt in the way of things seems to work here.see him.you could say that he's sustained by his fellow men,like you.has peopled the shore with them calling to him.a rave that gives suck to the maimed and the crazed,that wants their wrong blood in its history and will have it.but they want this man's life.he has heard them in the night seeking him with lanterns and cries of execration.how then is he borne up?or rather,why wont these waters take him?"
Whatever voice spoke him was no demon but an old shed self that came yet from time to time in the name of sanity,a hand to gentle him back from the rim of his disastrous wrath.
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