Monday, May 30, 2011
I didn't always want to go there, be another ant in the anthole of a concrete city, but it's grown on me. I've romanticised it for sure, but the fact that reality is going to be harsher than I dreamed is not a deterrent, quite the contrary, in fact. No matter the struggle, the city lights will always be there to guide the way. The longing for the place has settled in my heart, hooking itself into my ventricles and letting the pumping muscle grow over it, so much so, that it is now as much a part of me as my blood, as the cells which create me. It's not leaving easily; the only way to satisfy this longing is to give in to it.
I ask only one thing of you, despite not having any right to ask anything at all and that is, don't follow me. I don't want you there. That's why I'm leaving. You don't have to understand. Just don't follow.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
So I'm letting you go. Fly, I don't want to see you here again. I found something in me, a want, a longing which has been felt before, but directed in different areas; this time it's possible to fulfill the yearning, I just have to let you go. It's time you found your way to the door and left my life; you offered me a challenge, and I'm picking up the gauntlet.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Rationality says "no, this can't be true, you're imagining things again," and maybe Rationality is right. But a sinister little voice cuts in and whispers vile contradictions in my ear. I almost side with that voice; it seems to have some evidence, even if it's tenuous. After all, I can't have imagined your eyes flickering over to me; surely I can't just be looking up every time you're looking over? And I'm sure you were staring and that's what caused me to look up from my book and catch you looking at me again. I'm not sure what those glances entail, but I would like to find out.
And how is it that we always end up sitting opposite each other? Coincidence? Because I can tell you now that I do not choose my seating position relative to yours. How about you? But perhaps that would explain why my eyes naturally seek you; you're always there. Also, I'm curious about you and your own glances in my direction.
I'm sure there's nothing to this. I'm sure it's mostly my imagination playing me and making links and filling the gaps in incorrectly. I'm sure I'm wrong. But. What if I'm right? What if all those looks and those tiny things from previous weeks actually mean something?
Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. People keep too much to themselves; I doubt this case would be an exception. Society isn't as openminded as it thinks it is, after all.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
One day I'll be sitting at the top of the mountain, seeing all the little people down below. I'll look down its steep sides, the ones I had to climb all on my own, and I'll flex my hands, so the scars upon them stretch and remind me that I am where I am because I put in the effort. I'll see you somewhere down the bottom, struggling, because really, you couldn't do it. We both knew you wouldn't be able to get out of your little security bubble; you were too afraid of getting hurt, of losing it all. Well here's the thing: you can't gain anything if you aren't prepared to risk everything. And when I'm at the top, and you're still scrambling down the bottom I'll yell down to you "these wings wouldn't stop working for anybody." You'll look up, and you'll hate me and I won't even mind, because I got there because you wanted to be there and because you broke me. If you hadn't, I wouldn't have bothered. I suppose I'll have to give you a thank you along the way, but don't expect me to throw you a line, not unless you're really sorry first.
So stay out of my way. You know I'm going to be better at it anyway.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
But I just want you to know that I haven't forgotten, I just haven't had the time. Those photos still mean the world, laid out in an artistic fashion, and the memories still bring smiles. The time's not yet come for tears. I just needed a little time for me.
Friday, May 6, 2011
You think you're always right, but no, you're not. You state your opinion as fact, but here's a fact for you, it's not. You think you have the right to intimidate people, but you don't. You think that you have the right to get angry when someone tells you not to touch them, well guess fucking what, you don't have that right. Maybe, just maybe you should start learning to respect the world and the people in it, and then maybe, just maybe, something in your low, acrid, meaningless life will go right for you. You're poisonous, and that is all your own doing. Then you wonder why we can't stand you.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
You can't tell straight away what it is that had changed, but you knew there was something not quite right. Or maybe, not quite wrong anymore. It's only when you look at certain places, or at certain objects, or hear certain people's names or smell certain scents, and nothing traumatic comes rushing back, no intense feelings, that you realise what it is. You realise that you're ok now, that you truly have moved on. You walk back through your memory and though there is a certain nostalgia, it's not painful, and you no longer fervently wish yourself back to happier days; you realise that these are happier days. You let the memories of recent times surface and you pinpoint that one moment where it all changed - the moment you truly began a new chapter in the book of your life. So with your new leaf turned over, you go forth. Things are never the same again, but thinking about it, you don't want them to be.