- Listening to:
Last Samurai Soundtrack
When the day fades, we relinquish the ability to fight. No need to lie. No need to disguise the fakeness of our words. In the cold shower, our hearts beat blood through weary viens. Pill bottles clutter the cabinet. Scraps of paper scattered everywhere, to remind us of the many things undone. Slowly our minds slither into zombie waves. Thinking of nothing, feeling everything until the music shatters the world into broken memories.
We rationalize. We argue within our logic. We hunger for the lost. We search for the forgotten. Where did the ambition turn into glass edge threads, cutting our hearts out in slices of failures? The few writing self-help books for the rest of us who seem to can't find the strength to turn tragic into triumph. We let one moment, scarred and unfortunate, control the rest of our lives.
I look and you're not there. I turn and find you not smiling back at me. I see the door you'll never walk through. I hunger for the scent of your presence. I reach out and find vapor, never your skin shall I touch again. My fingers ache to entangle your hair. This all comes alive when I need you most. Seems it occurs when I'm weak and pitiful.
When I think I'm standing, I'm really only swaying to the winds of time. Change has not brought amnesia. Your face hasn't faded. Your voice is not distant. However, when I count the moments without you I only feel empty and disgusted at the wasted years. You would not be proud of me. You would be sad that I let it disolve, nearing extinction. Streams of dreams in drought, no ambition to energize me. You and I would've had our fights. We would have had our passion. I would take the bad just to taste the good.
Night lingers too short, for day brings another war of logic verus emotion. Responsibility dictates routine. There may be a day, when I will feel again like I felt with you. Until then, sweet existence until my being transcends, joining you in the next novel of our lives.(avatars above from Pink Paisley Art)
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Life has a way of escaping into faded thoughts or broken memories. Life has a way of being uncontrolled, wasting away. Here is my journey on returning to being alive again, not a routine robot or unconscious consumer, but living my dreams. 
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