don't read into this:

i need an inspiration. i need something to be alive again. i need something to knock me out of my routine.
i need a string quartet.
i need a marionette.
(my thoughts are much more complex and poetic than what i actually write.)

oh darling, i was never free for the taking

i need a line.
i need a sign.
i need to know that we had everything. [we share something. we lost nothing.]
i need time. i need another rhyme.
your love letters make me weak in the knees.
im way too in love with the sound of abandonment. too in love with out-of-tune pianos. and alliteration.
--depression. destruction. desperation.--
(and boys with a certain look)
i've never wanted to be so clean until i knew you.

i try to believe that im important. that, in this world, i make something special. and it takes a monstrous dose of reality to knock me into sense--to make me into my lonely self.
i love fantasy. i love imagination. where all is laughter, peace, and sleep.

WATCH OUT! (watch out)

sooner or later you'll learn that fantasy can't be reality.
even though it's true that there will always be blue skies underneath the clouds, it is inevitable that there are clouds in the forecast.
and we have it all right here in our hands. we've got everything we need.

...love is in our plans and life is better off this way...

even the bravest lions, they need a sidekick

creativity has easily become my best friend. closer than anything. and i can crawl into its mystery. i can soak inside its majesty. if it sat next to me, its arm would lace around mine, head peering over my shoulder, slightly swaying to the simple tune it feeds me. it never questions me, only loves and encourages me. it is the spring after the fall--forgets about winter entirely.
and though its cold and rainy, i think i need a rhyme. it rings out true--im faking my notes, i dont know what i need.
on days like today, it reminds me that there is a God in heaven and that He sprays imagination across the planet. its a small planet after all--how can we all be different?
but nothing seems original, nothing seems truly unique.
yet in its own way, creativity calls me to believe in existing exceptionally.

i love a good build up.
& it brings me life.

I hate titles.

tonight, i just want to sink into (his arms) the couch.
in therapy, i talked about sinking into my green leather couch. something about it is still comforting. something about being enveloped into that couch calms my chaotic mess of a life. sometimes, i am faced with a cold dose of reality.
however, this coldly-thwarted reality that collides with my face like a dead fish is typically my own. it is twenty times more painful running into a reality that is not my own. what would happen if one day i picked up my phone--i can't even finish that statement.

my dear. i will always be your person to call. you're about to enter a dark, desperate place. i have been there. i meant it: don't do what i have done, don't go where i have been. if i could lock you up to keep you from destruction, i would. unfortunately, i know that once i lock the door and walk away, you'll already be twisting the key in your fingers. this is your lesson to learn. this is your battle to fight...and it tears me apart.

i hate the line between love and obligation.
it is not that it is unclear.
it is that it is way too incredibly clear
and the action behind it rips me in two--
more than two--
seventy times seven.

Ushindi.

Sometimes.

Victory doesn't taste too sweet.

Crying Is Okay Here.

What is your opinion of happy tears?

Step One: Open My Eyes.

There is a cycle. I don't know if it's literally visible, but I am beginning to think that maybe it has begun to reveal itself to me.

Step 1: Open my eyes.
I begin. I walk. I move. There really is no significance here, it just is. It starts out. Nothing is of any importance yet. No, no; it isn't depressing or dark. It simply is not significant.

Step 2: Look around.
There is hurt. There is pain. I feel it and I feel my mistakes although they haven't been made yet. I know they are coming. Maybe it's looking inside myself...? I see the real treachery I have hidden inside my mind.

Step 3: Act.
Lies consume me. Lies scream at me. It is here that I fall and feel impulse (spontaneity) pull me under. I act. I bruise.

Step 4: Feel the desperation.
It is the breakdown. It's the hardest part and yet the most revealing part. Some call it the bottom of the pit. You've hit rock bottom. The only way to move is up. Dear people, I cannot fly...how, then, can I move "up"? This is darkness. This is hopelessness. This is where I am on my knees, crying, pleading for a light.

Step 5: Magic appears.
There is a light. Unmistakably, there is a beautiful light. It doesn't need to make sense how it appeared. It doesn't need to make sense how it will help. All I know is that in the darkness, all I needed was a light. In the darkness, it would heal my fading life if I could somehow see the walls. The light, the hope, fills me and lifts me from the pit, the cell, the chains...whatever I choose to label it.

Step 6: Run.
Here I run. Here I stand and lift others up. Here I throw my light into the air. Here I find freedom and with that I find hope. With hope, I feel elated and powerful. The world is at my fingertips and anything, anything is possible. I want to stay here. I want to live here and request residency. I want to continue to run, to be in the race always. I want to stand knowing that there never has to be a step one. It is always step six.

But because life is constantly moving and I am constantly growing, it is apparent that there will always be some form (whether good or bad, constructive or destructive) of--

Step 1: Open my eyes.