| Well Xanga, you're like an addictive drug, I eventually always come back to you... except not nearly as often as say, cocaine. That's neither here nor there. Anyway, like I was saying, I'm back, and I need a place to metaphorically crash. I find myself at an interesting juncture in my life. I've realised what I am, what I should be, what I sometimes desire to be, and that largely, I'm "all alone". And I don't me all alone as in, hey I'm so lonely I'm suicidal. Rather, I'm all alone, as in my parents storm umbrella is no longer over my head, my friends distance has severed some intament interchanges, and financially I'm in debt to the man. (Hooray for my choosing of a private college education!) But one thing constantly on my mind and in the front as I type, is that of my counterpart. Who is it? Do they exist, or am I meant to live a unglorified bachelor's life? I find myself on a journey, or a trip... or something in between. It's like I'm camping. I see a nice log, prep for a fire and then I go grab a lighter. Everything's normal right? Sure, I bend down to the pit, flick the flint and work my magic, what little of it I have.Yet, it seems like everytime there's a spark, I let it catch and burn for a few seconds, then violently stomp it out. It's not that I intend to do so, I really would enjoy the warmth and beauty, and I'm not really afraid of the flame... it just happens. I just sit the night out without a fire, somewhat content-- it's a fair night and the moon is shining down, so it's okay. Then, a day, two, three days later it gets cold and I come to the fire pit and some dude's already there enjoying the warmth of my would be fire. I desire so much to be close to that fire, but I know I screwed it up... I left claim of it, didn't appreciate what I had and now it's someone else's. And it's happened so many times that I can't seem to forgive myself for my stupid, stupid, STUPID, tendencies. When will it stop? Lovely Roses |
