There is no reason why...more than there is some underlying, even latent pull, like a spring tide....encapsulating something lost, buried beneath layers of situations and time and space, and yet you linger in the crevices of my soul, my pores, perhaps poking through tangled facets of latent lonliness that I deny I feel. So short a time, bound by inexplicable nuances of change and growth and diversions and reflections and needing more than that which is always so apparent and out there in the open. Things are so seldom what they seem. Where is the TLC that I need? That I long for? And I can lie so easily to myself. It's just a twisty tie here and a twisty tie there, binding multifaceted nuances of change to illusions. And then there is trust. What is it? I don't think it's real. I think trust is overrated and underscored....Once, the truth and trust were all that mattered to me. Now I wonder exactly what it is that I do believe. What do I want? Where do I want to go? And whether I have the courage to face my face, look myself in the eye and boldly go where I have never gone before....taking risks unthinkable to my minds eye heretofore gone and lost into some kind of fairytale reality too important to relinquish to someone else's dreams. What about my dreams? What about my needs and wants and desires and thoughts and reasons....and all the words go lost into a cavernous wasteland of interruptions more important than the facets of my thoughts...more important than the profile of my soul. I do not trust anything or anyone, most especially myself. I touch some darker, lurking line of thought and questioning beneath the simple facade of my daily life. And now, I know The Secret. I attract what I think about. I attract what I want. I focus on some deep internal want that I barely recognize as my desires. Now I know I can have it all. I can have every last vestige of the material things I want...and more importantly, the deeper tangled nuances of the things that remain latent in my soul, ready to be born into desire. And here I am, poised, to catch the birth of myself in the efforts for which I am laboring. Are you real? Can you see? Do you understand? Where is your courage? I doubt your courage. I doubt your integrity. I doubt your character. But what I don't doubt is how tangible you are in the real way that you fucked things up for everyone, most especially yourself. And I wonder how you assimillate that. Do you go over and over it in your mind and find new and improved ways to imagine a different outcome? Does the fantasy you feel in your soul match any reality that you live each day that passes? We live. We live on each day, but you are always very near to some fortified piece of my soul. Where once you snuck in and stayed a while, not quite long enough to make a lasting impression, but an impression none the less. And that impression is laden with questions that I don't know I would trust your answers to because you lie too effortlessly. Lying, to you, is like breathing;not something that you think about of even question. It's you. Maybe it's because you don't know what your own personal truth actually is. I am finding that my truth is....not so interesting as I once thought. That who I am in relation to who I thought I was, are well, not so very different. The parts of me that lingered beneath my surfaces, the parts dormant because of convention, outweighed by convictions....are relieved to be allowed some breathing room. Still....I hold myself back and feel....unconnected to what I really want. Something a little more than this...
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