27/12/02
December 27th, 2002 by RoseA silent voice calls out through the night and makes it journey across time and space, unnoticed and unseen. A time to be had in the company of words tossed out into space by the one who bathes in the complexity and simplicity of his own words. They too are sometimes a contradiction for they speak to fool, but how can you fool the one who needs no voice, when they too gaze into the same mirror with a similar thought. She discovered the path was an illusion for it did not wind before her, but instead like the snail follows no path, yet leaves a path, she is now set free.
11/12/02
December 11th, 2002 by RoseCast your eyes across mine and describe what you see, do you see me as I see myself? How do you see me, shifting from foot to foot, eyes cast downwards, I used to be so proud. When was that? Never, I lied. I was never anything really much. Am I lying now? No? Yes? Who knows. Contradictions, so many in such a short space of time, one after the after, click click click, they pass through the screen in my mind. Think this, tomorrow that, ever changing, hold on, for the ride. Do your arms not get tired when they seek something they cannot have? Like the toddler seeking that in which it cannot have, the objects get moved farther and farther up the table and out of reach of grasping hands that long to feel, to hold, to touch, taste, smell, experience, something they cannot have. A longing, a yearning, a long dark road that leads to somewhere unknown, somewhere deep inside myself I travel that path, protected yet consumed in a cloak of guilt. The long boney fingers of guilt probing my every nook and cranny, there is no place to hide. You tell me I should be this, You tell me I should be that, You tell me to aspire to these heights, I am standing on my tippy toes and I still cannot reach. You gave me a taste, and like the addict I become a seeker for more. Higher and higher I am told to climb, I am afraid. I am what? Can you tell blue from red when your eyes are closed? How can I make sense of the jumble when I am standing in the middle of the puzzle and the pieces lay all around me, I have no strength to lift them to inspect them I do ever so weary from one place where I can lay and rest for just a short while before I pulled again to and fro, in mind, in my body, I am pulled. Give and take a moment to allow me to be still, to stop and get my balance as I am lopsided in so many ways, lopsided because I do not know how to use the powers I am told lay within. From side to side I sway in rhythmic unison to the beat of my heart. The words they will not form in any sense and so you find before you piles of words of nonsense, some will know and some will wonder why and some just wont. I choose the latter because it is the easiest, I do not want the high road, I want the easy road right at this very moment I want to feel the smooth ground below my feet. Harsh is the high, the more intriguing but the more shallow, possibly, I do not know, I just wander. I wonder.
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