Monologue

I think about him still. It's getting pretty unhealthy. I know. But how else am I supposed to get through him? My feelings are confusing me now. There were times where I didn't have them because of the differences and because I can't tolerate anyone.

As for today,....well...they came back like a spirit from the dead, tracking down every single trace I have left and blew a silent whisper behind my ear. I don't know if it's pure infatuation. I don't want to know. I don't care about the answer. I have come to a point where I stop having faith in humanity. I am not expecting anything. Especially from the opposite sex. Fuck hope. That's always my anthem, which I proudly sing to the rest of the living beings just to annoy the fuck out of them.

But I felt something today. The wanting to have and be had. The need to find the yet-to-be discovered solution of Rubik's cube. The waiting. The missing link.

I don't want to use him as a form of escapism. That's not what this is all about. It never was.

He is, after all, the boy in the capsule, whom I have discovered somewhere beyond the borders of grass I used to sit on in the lazy afternoon.

Endless walk

....like a myth, you ascended
further up the ethereal stairs
and landed among the stars
glittered in your own reflection
for what you have become
and for many years to wait
and in smile, in sigh, in solace
you slept to dream
and dreamt to live
only to wake up again
and walk.

-A Man's Neverending Journey by Sydrah



I can only think of Rachel Brice when I wrote this. She never fails to mesmerize me. She's my muse, my Cybele. Everything that I want to be as a woman- sharp, beautiful, graceful, fierce and overpowering.