This weekend was not very good.
I was talking to Jayme and asked her if its possible to physically die because of an emotion...like sadness or anger etc. It is possible even if your perfectly healthy physically your body can just such down, is what she said. Mind over matter. I struggle with the matter. Some stuff seem to continue to suck away at my soul.
I have seat belt rash down my shoulder and neck, my throat still hurts from prior sickness, my neck and back are tired, achy almost. I'm exhausted beyond belief, but sleep doesn't comfort me like it use to. Neither does food or water. The frequent showers I have taken doesn't either.
Pessimism isn't an issue. I have a lot to be thankful for. I mean I am still alive. But does it make a difference that it seems to be "just barely". Like deteriorating almost...very slowly.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Expect.
Why did it fall... it opened... released.
Sweet beats of discovery of being hold dear, like a last breath or a small trinket of life
frail skins of the rope attached to the porcelain
unravel and tarnish...weak were this strings but so strong was the beats.
Why does it do this, protected it...it was disloyal to say the least.
No idea was the mind, separated from parts to the soul.
Cruel. Unjust. Rationality was our sanity..rationality was our weapon...our tool..our vice
It left when this opened. Cruel, wading waters. Cold harsh winds. It was perfection to say the least, the purest mineral running through these veins, leaping songs in my life, now it turns poison. Tarnished, unkempt, such haste lead to this. Bitter, bitter taste.
How I wish experience came, maybe thirty years, the knowledge.
I don't know what to make of it, rape perhaps..should I came thee stolen?
Should it be yelled out that I was bare? Untarnished until the hums of utter dependency came.
It is I, who let it fall, I did not caught it. It is I who have these marks in the memories and the porcelain to bear. I should have kept this covered. I should have no expectations, no offers. Realization was the point we missed. I found it unconditional and felt your shades. Perfection. Ignorance is you. Independence is you. I envy that.
Sweet beats of discovery of being hold dear, like a last breath or a small trinket of life
frail skins of the rope attached to the porcelain
unravel and tarnish...weak were this strings but so strong was the beats.
Why does it do this, protected it...it was disloyal to say the least.
No idea was the mind, separated from parts to the soul.
Cruel. Unjust. Rationality was our sanity..rationality was our weapon...our tool..our vice
It left when this opened. Cruel, wading waters. Cold harsh winds. It was perfection to say the least, the purest mineral running through these veins, leaping songs in my life, now it turns poison. Tarnished, unkempt, such haste lead to this. Bitter, bitter taste.
How I wish experience came, maybe thirty years, the knowledge.
I don't know what to make of it, rape perhaps..should I came thee stolen?
Should it be yelled out that I was bare? Untarnished until the hums of utter dependency came.
It is I, who let it fall, I did not caught it. It is I who have these marks in the memories and the porcelain to bear. I should have kept this covered. I should have no expectations, no offers. Realization was the point we missed. I found it unconditional and felt your shades. Perfection. Ignorance is you. Independence is you. I envy that.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)