Monday, December 28, 2009

Washed Up on the Shore

Standing at the edge of this desolate beach I throw messages in bottles out into the reaching waters.  There’s little to no chance they’ll be found.  There’s even a high probability that they’ll be outright ignored.  And still I continue with this futile act because I have nothing but my words.

As always.

For a brief moment I believed.  It was a shining moment when I looked up and thought I saw a beacon light in the distance, a ray of hope - salvation.  Instead, it was merely the smear of tears in my eyes turning the lonely moonlight into something more, or perhaps something less. 

So I sit on my lonely beach and hate myself for hoping and for believing.  I hate myself for wishing and wanting.  I hate myself for thinking there was ever a chance - even a slim one - of finding the peace and comfort of the quiet between heartbeats.  No, it was better before I saw the mirage and had reason to hope.  Now I have the dark reality to face and the truth that everything beautiful was only an illusion and never existed.  I have the truth that I was always alone and always will be, per my own thorny being.  So I hate myself for that, too.  How can a thistle be any more than a thistle?  No matter how she dreams of being a rose, she is what she is.

I never want to dream again.

And still I write messages and send them into the sea.

Page 3 of 1014 pages
 <  1 2 3 4 5 >  Last »

In Previous Years:

2006

The Magic of Snow

Andrea finally made it to Oregon.  I’m sure she’ll blog update herself, shortly.  She’ll write about how she hasn’t had time to write because she’s… [Read More]

2005

I Found God!

While “TDO”:http://colorfully-see-through-head.com/index.php/csth/the_delicious_one/ and I were out on Sunday, we got assaulted by some bible thumper trying to pimp God on us.  “Excuse me, ma’am, but… [Read More]

2003

Top Ten:  3/9

Banes:

# Sinus congestion.
# No nearby friends.
# Broken promises.
# Loneliness.
# Too lazy to type up entries.Read More]