On Empty

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

I have to tell you this, I dream of things, of water filling up, of tortoises swimming from one corner of my room to the other end. Its just silly things. In my small narrow existence, I try to find meanings that are hidden. But I forget, meanings are just what I give, it is not a given. I forget that things can matter so easily once I give it a meaning. I dive into the destructive patterns of finger pointing and general feelings of discontent like a sick habit.

Yes, some days I want to break off all these old rusty chains of my childhood memories and fly away. To smile and feel in the deepest of my heart that, hey I really am feeling this. But it is hard. I drift. I fly away in my head and the life all around me, hold no significance. Or I go to the opposite side of that same coin, I indulge myself feeding on something to feel like all this seems to mean more than they really do. I pull myself back up of this slow drone of mellow blues of certain aspects of life, and let go again and it is funny how the things that seem to touch me, can make me cry because it tugs at my emotional heart.

And then, I stop. I wake up. Tie my long hair up in a bun. Watch my round face as I pass by the mirror. This life is huge, it is so ridiculous that I can't find a tiny place on this entire planet that I can give something back. I do not know if it is the anxiety of finding that purpose, or that when I do find it, it may slip out of hand, out of my heart, again the plain empty at my side.