They tell me I don't need anything and I believe they are the wisest things I've never spoken with that I've communicated more to and from than anything else. These pools; I drown in bright blue pools(I've never been a strong swimmer) that make me want to sing a voice I don't have; and run. Run blindly laughing until I cry, away from everything. Cry away from everything. Run into the sea and salt silly and spray light and heavy across my face with nothing, nothing at all. Walk off akathesia (the walkies) at at least a 20 mile sprint and let that restlessness go with the wind and the water and flow behind me like a shadow of a distilled self lack of awareness and unseeing, unthinking misery curtain of intangible tons, weighing me down and getting light as I get closer to lights generated by myself reflected on those surfaces I pine for. Still drunk from a dream of such softness, I am unaware I am awake, and like the drink I must sleep again and create the same to avoid the hangover and perpetuate the illusion that in my waking life I cry and run and cry and run for. And collapse into that perfect state where I am too tired to answer, so I don't. And it feels wonderful, perfect giving up by believing in something you gave up. Surrender to the otherside of the war you thought you'd lost. Surrender for the win.
It's real, though infrequent. It sparks fire and starts wars. It keeps distant soldiers up at night. Men at their toes, women at their feet. It will grant me a death worth deserving by molding a life worth having. It keeps me filled with something I usually lack: Hope.
*The language of music notation as best described by keyboard.
No comments:
Post a Comment