miruscopia
I can remember the feeling I used to get when I would walk for miles and miles to be by myself so that I could lie down on my back amongst the trees and stare up into their canopy. The light of the midday sun peaking through in bits to scatter across my body as it scatters my tense thoughts built up over a week's time in the city.
Damn, the bottle of nasal mist is empty and I can't breathe. I hate stupid, summer-colds.
You never know until you try it, you might have a blast. It might seem like something you're not really into at first, but when you get over the awkwardness and just let yourself go, you'll discover it could be just what you've needed and have never let yourself have due to the stigma of how it's perceived.
Wow, I wasn't expecting that. But now that you mention it, it makes sense. The whole thing was planned in a manner so that in the end he could be saved regardless of his reprehensible atrocities.
It's just the dust in my eyes that's getting to me. We were bound to cross paths again and I don't think either one of us new how we would react.
None of them really knew how much I was in love, but it was almost all that I could think about. Even thirty years later, nearly everything I saw throughout an ordinary day triggered a memory. And every day it was still too much to handle, never having consummated this unrequited burden that would inevitably bring me to my knees.
I couldn't believe what she was telling me. Not only did I doubt that Father had it in him to do such a thing, but I was beginning to suspect that that nun was a lying bitch.
The miles started to add up and my strength was continuously wearing down. I couldn't even remember what it was like when I started out on this journey. What was I thinking? Where was I intending to go? What was the purpose of this trek through the dark expanse of my mind?
What have I made of myself with all these empty words? Have they run dry? Am I ready to tell the truth now? Or will it come out too harsh; is it still too soon?
The struggle to begin the process is a tough one to deal with day in and day out. The decision to commit without hindrance of the fear of failure, even to embrace it as a possibility, is always better than the alternative of stagnation, getting nothing done and losing the day altogether.
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writing since 2010 · 14 entries · 14 days shown up
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