So many roads have I wandered all on my own. The split in my mind has the temperament of a mother badger. I’ve broke down the reasons a million times over. I’ve read the books and I’ve gazed at all the stars for hours. I’m supposed to feel something by now. I’m supposed to feel. I’m spitting an argument at an audience who has the truth already, so of course I sound like a goddamn madman. You always said it was the perfect shade of crimson. That the mangled flesh was a sign of triumph over its weaknesses. I feel it like a million fish hooks threaded throughout my flesh. It pulls against me constantly and no matter how hard I fight the pull… the line never seems to break. What cost lies in freedom? The vast emptiness that possibly awaits us? My hands shake at the thought, as my knees buckle beneath me. The world goes black and in moments an eternity of emptiness occurs. I’m breathing with much the same pace as a set of demonic pigs leaping from a cliff.
Fear most assuredly is the enemy. Hate is an overwhelming emotion that swallows rational thinking and buries instinct below layers of shit and mud. I once met a stranger who told me a story.
“I was never strong in my convictions. I never really had any. I was a cooler, in my family and for most of my life, I felt it was my responsibility that everyone get along. It used to make me sick to my stomach when people would fight and ask I pick a side. I ran from everything and everyone. I found myself traveling more and more. Never in one place long enough for anyone to care, I protected myself from emotional ties that distract and destroy. Till one night.”
“The knock on the door was light enough that if I had not been in the entryway I would have not heard it at all. I opened the door and a dark haired angel stood before me. Dressed in a white nightgown with skin as pale as the moonlight. Her hair was thick and flowed down past her shoulders and tickled the skin on her chest. She asked me if she could come in and warm herself awhile. I found the whole thing so surreal, my friend, that I barely managed to nod. She sat down on this beat down old couch that had been in the shithole when I moved in. I stood uncomfortably and asked if I could get her something to drink. She said no and explained that she had been looking so long for love and that she had come here to find it. She stood, took my hand and led me into the bedroom.”
“I awoke alone in my bed with no trace that she had even existed. So trust me when I tell you that love is real and always looking for you my friend… even if it only finds you for a single evening, find you it will.”