Impossible dreams

So many things race through my mind, I can not make sense of it all, I can not make a choice, yet I can not carry on living this way, I am not living simply drifting in a fog of here and now.

I lost my way, I don’tknow if I ever actually knew the way. Day by day I pile layer upon layer until I forgot what was at the core, the start, the who of who I am, still I continue to pile upon more layers, till what once was, and what is now looks like something else. In my mirror of life I gaze through the eyes of a stranger at a stranger staring back.

Walking down the street, people pass, the rain falls down. The bitter sweet scent of a morbid wet summers day, I am there but yet I am not, I don’t seem to be able to hold on to the wheel of life, instead my cog begins to slip and watch the cogs of life grind on with out me.

I stare at the great tapestry of life, its complex structure design and style, hidden niches of sweet happiness, acceptance belonging, I see no place for me, no part with in that picture, the eternal blemish moving from section to section, that random piece of a puzzle that just wont fit.

I know I am not happy, but I don’t know how to be happy! Its not the inside or the outside, its the core. I am trapped with in a cell, the door is barred the windows sealed the walls are bearing in, as hard as I try I can not push them back, there drawing presence ever closer pushing squeezing me in forcing out the life that once I yearned.

Two parts to one whole, the outside sits a stranger to the inside, just like my life I wear a mask of image that battles well with self. To observe image portrays and protects, to know the two parts are poles apart.

I am lost, drifting in a sea of rules, ideals, standards, things that wash over me wave after wave, I know I should be happy, but yet I am not.

I can not shut of my thoughts, with drink a while I block, yet back they come so strong, I am drowning inside myself and yet my perfect image reflects the smile, tranquility rests on the waters edge masking the wild and dangerous torrent beneath. The surface reflects a dancing sun and perfect world, sweet and calm in-style, beyond which lays a void of madness, drawing and draining me.

If I could switch of my mind, stop my thoughts, slip back into my role with in the world, except what is, accept that square pegs do not slip through round holes, may be just may be I could hold on, live in image and find eternal rest.


~ by Duma Key on August 12, 2008.

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