More from your little green notebook:
[070306]
Sitting in one of my favorite diners for the first time this week, I've gotten to realizing - this is what everyone keeps telling me despair feels like.
Maybe if I think of it as better, or worse than it really is... if I pciture you're just at home now, and tired with at errible headache; or maybe that you've left our 3-dimentional world and I'll see you when I cross-over too... maybe if that was what kept you from my side.
In some odd, intangible way, that makes the weight more bearable somehow.
Or maybe I, like all my great counterparts, am simply clinically unwell.
But maybe, I'm sure, your abscense doesn't help.
How can I complain, though? Sung to sleep, read to until I'm too tired to think. Discussion open to anything, even my weak little frustrations. Then the singe of my fire taken in stride with the ebb and flow of your quiet current. Together steam and smoke, rising like rain and incense - prayers of what you and I want to become.
For now, I petition you to help me - help me be a little less like this, a little more like that. Show me, remind me to be alive instead of existing; to breathe instead of sigh, dream instead of despair, laugh before I cry, love before I fear. Remind me to be more like life, less light fright. Remind me, sometimes, that maybe I can fly instead of running frantic all the time.
I fear that's always where despair comes into play. Vastly incapable of checking myself at the door, longing for the day when you can help keep me checked. Because for all this cardboard-cutout wooden-back-braced form of a girl, I'm terribly weak and frail and lame.
I ought to be more proactive, though; I'll admit it. I ought to be better at addressing problems. Ought to be more aggressive when it comes to me, more laidback when it comes to everyone else.
And I ought to tell you fears and frustratons and my pathetic counter-arguements more readily than I do. You deserve that.
Plus, I don't think you'd mind my four-lettered words much, either.
-RK
Sitting in one of my favorite diners for the first time this week, I've gotten to realizing - this is what everyone keeps telling me despair feels like.
Maybe if I think of it as better, or worse than it really is... if I pciture you're just at home now, and tired with at errible headache; or maybe that you've left our 3-dimentional world and I'll see you when I cross-over too... maybe if that was what kept you from my side.
In some odd, intangible way, that makes the weight more bearable somehow.
Or maybe I, like all my great counterparts, am simply clinically unwell.
But maybe, I'm sure, your abscense doesn't help.
How can I complain, though? Sung to sleep, read to until I'm too tired to think. Discussion open to anything, even my weak little frustrations. Then the singe of my fire taken in stride with the ebb and flow of your quiet current. Together steam and smoke, rising like rain and incense - prayers of what you and I want to become.
For now, I petition you to help me - help me be a little less like this, a little more like that. Show me, remind me to be alive instead of existing; to breathe instead of sigh, dream instead of despair, laugh before I cry, love before I fear. Remind me to be more like life, less light fright. Remind me, sometimes, that maybe I can fly instead of running frantic all the time.
I fear that's always where despair comes into play. Vastly incapable of checking myself at the door, longing for the day when you can help keep me checked. Because for all this cardboard-cutout wooden-back-braced form of a girl, I'm terribly weak and frail and lame.
I ought to be more proactive, though; I'll admit it. I ought to be better at addressing problems. Ought to be more aggressive when it comes to me, more laidback when it comes to everyone else.
And I ought to tell you fears and frustratons and my pathetic counter-arguements more readily than I do. You deserve that.
Plus, I don't think you'd mind my four-lettered words much, either.
-RK
1 Thought(s):
I can help with little-mores, little-lesses, your need to breathe, dream, laugh, love, live.
I can't wait to be there.
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