We huddle around a candle in a box. there are dim shadows behind us lurking and creeping over our shoulders. always lurking. tapestries and murals and post-its and tacks holding memories and thoughts and loves and likes and dislikes and horrors and dreams and visions all together for easy access. if by chance the urge to reminisce or remember should present itself we’ve created a wonderfully organized map in our mind. I’m searching under and sifting through the debris that falls from the walls for lost recollections of nostalgic moments frozen in time. you forget the goodness each one paid to you as you add more and more clutter to the walls and cabinets of your mind. sometimes you need to tear these carefully organized murals of that pretty life down and start over. sometimes you get tired of routine and the same pictures and people. sometimes you’ve constructed such a flawless life that its flawed in its very essence. perfection is an allusion. idealism leaves you open to trusting the possibilities towards good fortune. its upsetting to realize that trust is the very thing that leaves you vulnerable to pain. often we construct the ideal setting in our mind and we live it out accordingly. blind to the reality, sometimes cruel reality, that we need to remind ourselves. remaining logical covers this a great deal. it helps keep the objective in focus and letting your defenses counter any flak that would cause harm and inflict damage on the journey there. we can redirect our guidance systems to ensure safe arrival or a secure abortion. so sometimes dreams and hopes are just out of reach. a tragedy.
soft soft secrets whispered in the ear. a charming smile follows the sensual chill down your spine to the tips of your toes. you curl them tightly and breath in a breath of invigoration. your eyes close and you are engulfed with those feelings. those white clean feelings. they pull you from reality and your conscious submerges into a silk bath of a white snow, so fresh and crisp, that emanates a deep warm feeling like that of a wood stove. it almost heats you from the inside out. indistinguishably fresh, yet warm and crisp. love and affection.
William Dare 