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November 30, 2005
You bore me
you bore me, and that I can't forgive. you are not beautiful, and you are not aging gracefully. But I can put up with all that, I dim the light, I look else where, but if you bore me, there is no remedy in me for that. I will fly away. I have to be rude, there is no other option, you are carrying so much on your little frame, and would not allow yourself a let. You are too constricted, too careful, you walk slower now and you think ahead, getting yourself ready for what comes next, and in a way you deprive yourself of a certain joy, fears, emotions, you are dead. yes, I regret to inform you, you are dead. you exist, barely, vegetating, by instinct, but your footsteps do not leave any traces and your hands are colder than death.
Happiness, well, that eluding joy, when everything stays in a passive motion, and you are free within your unconscious mind, free. Living is habit forming, ropes extend, you pull and they come, and at some point they release you to yourself, or at least that's what they tell you. you are physically free. But wait a minute, there are ghosts in the Machine, the parasites have stained the nucleus, you are predisposed, you have learned, you have been thought, there are names you know, memories, such overrated dreams. you will not forget, as the silken moist ropes, thin as they are, weeding within you, you are connected, you belong. There are mirrors to help you with your impressions of yourself, covering the surfaces only, there are shallow waters, and whales that are lost hibernating in death.
There are books, voices, images carried on winds, they reach you, every inch of you within every seconds of your living. There are beliefs pregnated within you, bounding you, angels sitting on your shoulders, choices and consequences. Devils, not in red capes with horns, the every day devils, urges, desires, longings, all within you, within the chemical fusion of you, inside deep, in hollow crevices of unconscious you, running deep. and a landscape of Gods ahead of you. Do not , no, no, do not ask questions, turn within you and carry a lantern, be daring, yes, you, be daring.
So you think you know, you take the trail, walk, celebrating your quiet escape, not knowing what awaits you at the bend, and yet, you ask for what come may, and it does, as surprising as it might, you know, deep within you, you covet and you receive, you ask, you need, you want and it comes to you, within the boundaries you set, within the life you live, Godless, free, you hope, and walk further, and there, it stands, not far from you, all you wanted, the beloved, the stranger, the keeper, and once upon him, he turns, and it is you, its all of you.
And yet you come back, with no songs to sing, no tales, empty of colors, nothing to offer, but sweat and dread, with me here expecting you, to tell you, you bore me..........you and your little life, your little adventures, your misguided journeys, your silence. your skin dry, your eyes red, and within the ruins of your face, no joy, no smile, the arrogance of lies, the manipulation of life.
You bore me.............
Posted by Idinraha at November 30, 2005 04:56 PM