Writings from 11/02 to 3/05. |
8-27-03 I can't keep making the same breaks again just for you to see me bleeding. The more I scratch the less it heals; how much longer can you withstand my pain without deriding my opinions on change? The sidewalks, ladders and slides are the same. Every word in the line works like a link in a chain. Someday you'll have to go for a stroll and see that it's only a beginning and not the story as a whole. You're either true to the heart or the face. You can love the car 'til it runs out of gas. You can etch one look in your eyes as a memory, or bleed the entirety for all of its worth. And when you suck it dry and devoid of soul, will you foster its rebirth into something you can love as much or will you cast it aside, swearing "things are never as keen as they used to be" while you etch upon your memory the next big love that gives your pathetic corpse of a brain a little attention that needles that last bit of compassion left in your self-shattered heart? No matter what got you to here or there, if it doesn't stay with you then you've got better things to worry about than what makes me move to make you move. Nothing ever stays the same. Even when it does. To do something about it while the feeling is still relevant will serve your relevancy for years to come. I can't keep making the same breaks again. If it's too much, please tell me to stop. No one else is profiting, so why should I? It's not about the proper intake. It's all about the fresh output. The appeal is all in itself. It will sell itself. "Timeless" isn't measured in time. It just is what it says and sometimes words are better served by that. |