Dreams

Waking from a nightmare to find reality isn't much better is a bitter feeling. Truth be said I always want what I don't have. Human nature I suppose, yet in dreams my body says it is something more. I don't want to be there when my nightmare comes true. Still I know I will be. And the empty hunger that I feel will only fade away as an unfulfilled object forever submerged inside of me. 

That being said, I thoroughly enjoyed my breakfast burrito this morning and am about to quite thoroughly enjoy a run in the beautiful Colorado air. I can't think about all of it too much or I go insane with helplessness. I just take each day as it comes and try to make as much progress as I can. My music comes first and always will.

Climb

Step by step you climb. You see the top, so complete and perfect, but it isn't enough. Your feet must feel its  platform or you cannot have truly stood atop the world. The journey is slow, and hard. At times you feel apt to call it agonizing, but then you see the sun, you find a ledge, and you sit down and see the sky. It is worth it then, yet you wonder if you have gone far enough. If the sky and the ledge is all you need. But the rock, it crumbles slowly, a little more each day. If you wait too long there may be no top to go to. Even the ledge on which you sit must crumble eventually. So you press onward, you are almost there.

Today

It's a new day. I will push a crumbling pride to the side and walk blind but tall. What more can you do? Motivation is slow to catch up, I think it got lost in Nebraska. But I keep waiting for it to knock in hopes that I can make the images in my head the reality.

It's always tough realizing how different something is to you than the other person. It's hard finding out you were the only one who was struggling. When that time comes, as hurtful as it is, you have to let go. That's the only solution that seems plausible. I woke today and realized this. I need a good dose of patience to add into breakfast though. The wait is a long one. But today I must find the will to push forward so that I can venture into the jungle that awaits...

Hello.

Restless

Sleep just won't come easy. I have too much on my mind and this place is too new. I wake in the night with moisture on my cheeks and the empty, incurable feeling of loss. I lost what I left behind and I know it. It's just the way of change, yes, but the feeling that I could have had just a little more time drives me insane. It's such an empty demon too, it makes you suffer because you are helpless to cure it, only time can do that. You hear the clock tick, replay it all in your head and you know there is nothing to be done.

Consumed

It'd been days. In the end there would be many more days, days that collected into longer periods of time like months, years. But in the first days, the simple minutes to hours and hours to sleepless nights, the days were a suffocating tar.

I said a while back I would. Well here I sit, stationed with hills nearly touching the sun. But solutions come from the tools on hand. My tools on hand changed, quite abruptly I might add. My sudden change left me frozen between two worlds and molded choice into obligation. I can't say I wish it different, I do believe there is something here for me, but what you leave behind is another story. Will I always be in turmoil between two opposite halves?

I am so taken over, my thoughts so monopolized by the world I'd merely grazed. I question if the world was seeing the time as I was or had I stepped into an unchanging globe? I think the avoidance of change impossible so I would doubt that thought...still, to wander from such a bright fire into the black of night is a tough choice. But are we to only know the fire? Had I waited for the flame to die, the embers to fade, would I have found no steps to follow? Would I have become sleepy in the warmth of the glow, lost myself to the scent? I am not to know.

What I do know is the outcome is most usually not the anticipated one. Not Predictable for use of a better term. Now I question the solidity to my feelings. Am I an actor upon my own stage playing the role of some other character? What is truth? I lose sight often. Help me blacken my dreams tonight, let thought slip for the hours of night. This sad hunger is stealing my color.