Some nights I sit back and laugh. Say things like, “wow, that was a great experience.”
Other nights I just feel like a blank page. One that you scuttled past because you were in a hurry to find out what could be next. I really don’t like to openly dwell on that I also suffer from a chemical imbalance, because it’s not who I am. It doesn’t give me power, it only takes. But tonight, as I journeyed home, I felt an emptiness without out promise. An incompletion without potential, and it makes me wonder. Not in any fanciful form or matter, but rather a wonder that dives deep within a white landscape that stretches for a solemn eternity. Perhaps its healthy to express such undefinable sorrow and madness. Or maybe it’s just a gimmick for attention and validation. Who knows. For even I am befuddled by my own emotions. I’d like to believe that I hold the only cure for self actualization but tonight, I feel deceived that in order to even begin the footsteps of that journey, I need another.
Perhaps in this present desolate calm I shall look up and smile at my own face rather than seek it from an eidolic phantom of a companions touch. We’ll see.
Man or women, all should recognize the fury they are innately born with. A fury that is able to set anothers heart on fire and carry it beyond dreams that at one time woke the soul from a hazy slumber.