An Astonishing Combination Of Delectable Sweetness And Mystifying Cacophony. Ear-warming. What Is? Why
An astonishing combination of delectable sweetness and mystifying cacophony. Ear-warming. What is? Why the spring days aheadβthat is.
The longer nights, shortened days, sunrises, and sunsets are upon us; they love us. Connotations of sweetness. Looking ahead, anticipating the joys of spring...
We wish to keep, possess, and not wonder any more of what lies ahead. We wish to be enchanted, overcome by delirium when it comes. We wish to have our arms outstretched to catch the peaking days. We wish to close our eyes on the settling nights.
Spring...
Spring...
Spring.
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At the rate I'm going my succession is the least of my worries. I am beyond the clothes, hair, glitters and gold. I'm exhaling any pent up aggression brought on by unnecessary stress. Oh yes, I am. This worn out clichΓ© and ode to βstarting a newβ because of course a post, stamp, scribble will enhance any of the hard work that comes along with actually doing it. So I write it. Or I go around shouting to myself like the beatnik freak I can be. Almost in a jumbled fashion, no?
Be
Better
Or
Else.
Or else what?
Bouncing off the metaphorical wall with howling into the wind. A nuclear war with myselfβif I were a country alone, I'd be nuked by own inner self. Ahh...there we go... there's that playable and loveable skepticism I've found. Humorous no? Yes. Because now I can move past it.
βJhst thinking...how nothing last.β
Sad and true. Yet, there's a small call of realism...and the ache of memories to always be saved. Until then...π
Depressed statues
Where do you start when you feel despondent? not the feeling about being alone. However, the only factor. nowhere to fit. being nothing in a world that is something.
When your voice falters, your heart beats in trembling clef rhythms; but, when you do feel stronger, why does it fade?
No depression. No isolation. a feeling of separation on the inside. How can you fight that sensation? There are no materials. no substances
My words are failing, and the pen is on the page. I'm eagerly awaiting the boomerang-like return of my hopes.
Where do I go now that I feel so alone?
Here. I came here. It was noted down.
From: Angieπ
To: Your self right now. It'll all be okay. π€
Angelina Jolie photographed by Philip Wong, 1991
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The brightness of the morning sun knows no bounds. It simply increases. We'll follow the wind, which has no discernible direction.
The Viper has no knowledge of importance. These parallels are uncommon, but they are very consistent. It's unlikely that you'll be any of these elements.
The world's rationality is slim by the margins. Count the number of times the sun rises. Count the number of times the wind will strike you in the face. Count how many times the Viper has appeared in your life.
Is that searing still there or has it dissipated into your soul? Do you ever get up when the sun does? Do you know who the Viper is?
