Three faces all looking in an opposite direction
One facing the future with aspiration.
One thriving in the past, fear of reliving the pain
And someone stuck in the middle , living the present in van
The wind blowing through our hair, the sun on our face
Our hearts beating to an inconstant pace
Whispering to the winds that we’ll be here a while,
None who have mastered faking a smile

Bronchitis

My mind settles on the foreign messages which lurk behind the face of painful blares, meant to wake me from my sheets, where I find solitude in the unknown territories of my dreams. Is it the background music causing these stimulations? The passionate noise bursting forward from my juke box. Thought provocative ideas meant to stir my conviction. Not quite epiphany.

Hit the snooze button. My interpretation isn’t advanced enough to find some kind of significance in these words. But I know they’re not completely empty.

They’ve always told me it’s good to know where you’re going before you start walking. Though I’m not sure I want to know and my legs won’t stop moving. I want to change with the seasons. And suddenly, I want to remember everything. I want to open the channels in my mind so I can access the place(s) I seem to have left my heart. The filmstrip would stay in tact, the  music still playing while I’m still convincing myself it’s important.

 

The world is unknown to me. There are so any things I haven’t seen, done, or heard. Knowing that I have so much left to learn is what motivates me to let go and make mistakes. I get to taste the crisp air and hear the birds sing. I get to try new things. I get to watch people grow, and watch people fall. I get to smell the oranges and say I’m sorry. I get to take advantage of it all. I get to mess up and start over.

 

I’m starting to grasp what’s in my own hands. I realize that trying to fill the gap between what I can and can not control is only weakening me. And that this is something no one else can really help me with. Of course your reflection’s a lot harder to face when there’s not someone sitting next to you, stroking your hand, telling you how beautiful you are. But I think I’ll take the chance. I’ve dug long enough to find something ugly, but I’m not going to run away from it anymore.

 

I don’t think I was able to see any of this before because I didn’t really want to know. I wasn’t really looking. I was looking for more places to dwell on the frustrations of life, somewhere to fit in. and each time I caught a glimpse of this, I held onto it for all the wrong reasons. I’m sure this isn’t the first time I’ve said all of this. And I’m sure this isn’t the first time I’ve really felt or believed it. I’m sure I’ll say it again. I’ll mean it again. I’m sure I’ll remember, I’m sure I’ll forget. I’m sure I’ll move on.

This is pretty experimental—this whole page-creating process that I stumbled upon. I’m exploring the possibilities of wordpress.com. and I am finding excitement. Adventure, even. You can mock me after the program is over. And it’s not over until I tell you the stories of Marky’s mischief and her drawing talents of male genitilia. Actually I’m pretty sure I don’t want to get into that. Sweetened condensed milk never dies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

This will be called bit two. You are the cat. The one who sits on the hot stove top. But you learned your lesson. You won’t ever sit on a hot stove again. But you won’t ever sit on a cold one either. I am the cat who keeps sitting on the hot stove. I keep retracing my old footsteps so the snow isn’t as likely to seep through my socks. Today I wore my special socks. Not because they were a good addition to my outfit but because I was ready to embrace the day. That’s usually how I show I’m ready to embrace the day. By wearing my special socks. Either that or by running full sprint into your arms, only to spill your coffee all over the floor. I tried to make things right. But there weren’t enough paper towels.