When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
Siren's Song
Saturday, January 17, 2004
A ball with spikes as an outer layer of defence. What if, and I mean WHAT IF, I choose to flip the deadly skin inwards and let the menacing spikes press against my skin, then exerting an ever so slowly increasing pressure to pierce into me? Or, WHAT IF I choose to forcefully puncture myself with a swift and sudden blow? The spikes have to go somewhere.
Letting the walls crumble; dropping the vicious spikes. My outer layer is as smooth as a baby's bottom, but just under my skin lies a mesh of holes and wounds resembling a labyrinthic honeycomb, thick, sticky and diseased. Poke, squish, eeish, squash, quash.
Gross imagery. Pui.
I find myself treading water a lot nowadays - half the time struggling to keep my head above water, or sink and choke on uninviting brackish water. I fear the occasional kelp deviously winding around ankle and tugging me down, deeper and deeper, my mouth agape in a failed attempt to grab a last gasp of air, and arms reaching for the heavens where I do not belong.
Yet I must fight to conquer this fear and this sweet madness. I nodded my head in agreement, and I said "Okay." I will dull my natural responses in an effort to understand him more, or even if I did that to no avail, accept him for who and what he is. To that I'll tailor and alter myself to make him happy.
That doesn't sound quite right either. I want us to be happy together. I laugh a lot more with him by my side, but I cry a lot more too. In a way I'm happier, but along with happiness and contentment comes an elevated capacity to feel an army of other emotions - jealousy, madness and insanity included.
Am I still free to blog? Or have I never been really free to put my words down on screen?
I am one kind groggy now. I turn my head, then only after what seems like an eternity later the world starts to turn after me. It's like when I moved my head, the world in front of me is left behind for a while, unaware that I've shifted, then only upon realizing that it made the most languish effort to follow suit.
