to begin anew. does anybody even write on blurty anymore?

words, words, words. they snake endlessly through the mind. frozen when confronted with this blank space. now you see me, now you don't.

we are creatures of habit. we step away, determined to not walk the same paths and yet...
and yet, we come back, come close only to stop, drop and roll...

one earbud in, keep the world at bay.
stationary feet, yet the skies change
from open to concrete...
i'm here,
what about you?

boo

there are moments of clarity that burst through, an explosion of knowing and then everything fades and the world turns back to grey and the road that i walk, you walk, we walk seems endless and merciless.
there are moments of hope, which light my world in colour and i feel i am above, beyond, a part of all things...
and then i take a breath and feel the air stick in my throat and i hear a voice, my voice speaking of fear, of loss.
i must believe in impossible things. i must believe in the ability to believe.

walk through this life in silence. walk through this life with words. this moment is fleeting.every moment is. and yet when the heart aches, the mind grieves, it feels as this moment is eternity.
this is not how its supposed to be, cries a voice. reason speaks, its not supposed to be anything.
where is the map that will point out the way?

the madness comes upon,
a shadow driven forward,
twisting and twirling,
like iron stairs climbing
up a white wall.

i take my words and pare them away with a knife, scraping away layer after layer till only the kernel is left. Nestled in the palm of my hand, i hold my speech, my shrunken thoughts and i wonder, is this the way to make it back to desire, need, dream...

one loses the way...
the question arises,
how to make it to safe ground?

scratch that. how about peace of mind?

writing less. speaking less. the words are drying up.
wanting to be famous. wanting to be something other than average.
want.

"...never for money, always for love..."

This must be the place-talking heads

always looking for a place to call my own. not quite there yet. but i'm okay with that. it is about the journey.

moments. they fall like dominoes. to grab hold of a moment and tattoo it onto flesh, skin, bone. to live forever in the moment. listening to music that plays over and over in a loop. trying to get underneath the skin of the lyrics, the rhythms of the melody.
im not looking for answers, not this time.
a map would serve me better, shine some light on the shadows that come out to play.

the moment is like crystal. sharp and delicate.
i'm listening to a melody that no one else can hear and my heart catches, a hitch, a pause in its beating...am i standing out among all the other little lights? hear me, see me, feel me. want me.
music in my ears. yellow skies. where do i go from here?

out the door and into the night. the dark is a very good friend. and as sudden as that, the thoughts disappear. the stream of consciousness. there are moments when i crave to go walkabout. to put one step in front of another and see where it takes me. where i take me.
or get into the front seat and drive. but it all means that i have to take control. or be in control. always.
and i get tired of always wanting to lead. to initiate. having to lead.
here i am, wondering if there is a story waiting to appear from the shadows. immortality on my mind. to be youthful forever. is that the same as being forever young?
ever notice that vampires on tv, in print seem to be forever seventeen. seventeen is a horrible age.
to be forever gauche and unsure. how terrible a fate.

i am almost tempted to take the subway and ride it through all the stops. and then back again.
almost.

dear diary, i woke up. i ate. i waited for a story to come out from the shadows. there was only silence.

setting down words in the electronic medium is a bit like indulging your sweet tooth with a low-fat, low-cal dessert item. not quite the real thing. the smell of paper. the scratch of the pen's nib against a firm yet supple surface. i miss it. but it seems that i do not miss it enough to commit myself to writing in a paper journal again.
wake up by the arcade fire almost breaks my heart.
but my heart does break easy.
heart of glass, heart of stone. a heart made for the bittersweet ache. that is what falling in love is like. knowing that you are losing control and simply not caring. i want the music to stream down the walls like a waterfall.
i want to stand up and move, the rhythm flowing through my blood like a virus...
will you burn? will i burn? i want to. i must. i would much rather burn out, a brilliant stab of light in the neverending dark.
why fade? no, cannot fade. must not.
yes, i want my heart to break for how else will i know i am alive.

there's a song playing out there which i am digging. "broken strings" by james morrison. i hear it come over the radio and the words push their way through into my brain...even though i like to think that i am above listening to sad, heartbreak songs. heartbreak, heartbleed, heartfeel.
music. good music. it seems so hard to find. not that i am doing any true searching.
at this stage, at this point in time, im still waiting...free falling without a parachute. got rid of the safety net...and here i am, wanting to be saved.
or woken up.
let the good times roll.