Monday, May 13, 2013
Old wounds hurt most, I learned this today, because they take on new meaning and depth each time a chance for reconciliation or healing is lost, because forgiving would mean too much pain, because the letting go of such pain closely cradled to the heart hurts more keenly, because of false pride which allows for unshed tears, because...
With each year and trite seconds, with each click of the boxes on your cheatsheet, I learn and live what you must have had, or so I imagine, and I cannot breathe, the noose tightening around my neck, and I am ashamed for not being the person I could have been nor will be.
Thank you for not walking away.she procrastinated @ 00:38 |
Thursday, October 20, 2011She speaks, repeating the old litanies, of worn accusations breathed anew, of calamitous windfalls, and I listen, to the raspy phonetics of the finite, the ticker tape is coming to the end of the roll, and I listen, aggrieved, for she knows, her swansong is nigh, the circle of 5ths, no longer more. she procrastinated @ 03:22 |
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
I have some unexpected spare time today. Not at the right time to address the present calls of love and duty, but enough such that I learn past lessons and experience the old as new.
Earlier on this year, there were two prominent cards, and I had to make a choice between the two. I think I did, and now I miss the other. But I remain transfixed, unable and unwilling to cross the yawning chasm of time, space and tears that would also bring about a renewal of strictures long past. Regrettably or otherwise, I can no longer live for yesterday or today.
I have lived and died with each song and verse, with each crystal of snow, and with each fallen leaf of light. Too much, I have lost, with each unbecoming, but I can no longer stop, and I can no longer close my eyes.she procrastinated @ 02:34 |
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
and it all comes together!
With hysteric hilarity, I stand outside, looking in, there I belong. Nowhere, no where, not knowing how to write the right despite knowing what went wrong. To conform, I refuse, a moot point, I have no ability to.
I am more inflexible than I thought I was, and in that, as rigid as you are.she procrastinated @ 01:56 |
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
beethoven's symphony no.7 2nd mvt
The choice is made, the show must go on.she procrastinated @ 01:14 |
I will like to spend my days, as though they are my own, which I mostly end up doing in halves, for duty beckons, and I am answering its clarion call. Soon enough! I am also a veteran procrastinator.
Old wounds hurt most, I learned this today, becaus...
treatises on life
mulling over"One is wicked, because one see things clearly." - Beaumarchais's Le nozze di Figaro.
And there were phlegmatic souls.