Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Perching on the stone sit-out in my terrace, with closed eyes, letting the drizzle-filled evening breeze hit my face, while my phone plays some healing music makes for such luxury.

It's not going to be difficult to find a bridge over troubled water that will ease the mind, is it?  

Friday, August 26, 2011

Exhausted.

I have no idea where the next pit stop is; but, as Floyd auspices, I am not giving up. Not without a fight.

While I let my music player ruminate over a Brian Eno, 
Here we are
Stuck by this river,
You and I
Underneath a sky that's ever falling down, down, down
Ever falling down
... 
Always failing to remember why we came, came, came:
I wonder why we came.
I'm trying hard to not let myself wonder about any of this having been worth it, after all.

Throttle me with anything, you world. I don't want to become or seem like a lie when I am not one, you know? I'm tired of being misconstrued, stomped on and made to seem like a misfit. I know what I can hold on to. I'm positive. Restless, but positive. Homeless, but positive. Incensed, but positive.
Positive is ! an emotional belief. It's a Goddarn conviction. Here's my conviction. And strength. Strength.

Rhetoric

Lackadaisical and waltzing by the Volkhov, Sara tries to get rid of the dense clouds that have been following her for way too long. Playing with those butterflies that flutter about oh so graciously a minute, waving her imaginary wand and trying to shoo the clogs cast in the sky another. Moving to playing a game of hopskotch with herself, finding a shed feather of her pet peacock, Ronita, and running it on her balmy face, visiting the local grocer every morning just so she can dig her hands into a pile of cool and colorful vegetables. All of four, it's not really fresh air that she wishes to suspire as much as hope that the grass turns greener with each breath taken.

What is she doing, really, in a world that forgets what it is to listen to the murmur of hearts?

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Rightfully--

Pushed
Away.

Falling, failing.
Figuring, fighting.

Will,
Way!

Being--

Conclusive.
Corroborative.

Therefore now--

Wafting.
Waiting.

Meanwhile--
Plotting.

Believing--

If,
Then.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Wreck

If there could be a day I could relive, it would be Saturday, the fourth of June, 2011.

And then, this day when I stand defeated on a battlefield where I could have easily won, knowing I will wail if I bury my face in the comfort of the ones I can trust, I can't wish more for reliving that day.