Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Cold Cold Day

I get it,  There's not much to say,  there's not much to do. 
Stream of conscious,  stream into, stream under, stream over,  stream line, efficient,  proactive, 
I wish I was these things.  I wish these things could be said about me
But you see I feel half dead inside most of the time
I feel unreal
I don't feel
But I want to feel
I want to inquire, desire, hope, dream big dreams
Fear is the thunder I am afraid of
Shame is the grace from which I have fallen
I lay in a pile of glass shards
Shame cutting into all of my openings
I don't know how to protect myself
Inside,  going inside to hide
Not die
Not yet
Ill figure this out,  I will I will
Is not running out.
Time can't run out,  because time is invented
And can be un invented
What is we threw all of the clocks away? 
What would happen then?
What if there were no deadlines? No dates,  no beginning,  no end
What if We just Are,  until we are not any more.

Rambling musings on a cold cold day.