Is It Over?


Is it over?
Is it just the beginning?

Another life.
Another lesson learned.

Should I rush?
Should I take it in stride?

Looking forward to what’s ahead.
Looking back at what’s been done.

The steps to move on.
The quagmire of standing idle.

A bountiful future.
A forlorn past.

My mind has been misguided.
My heart has been deceived.

I have feelings of hope.
I have desires for change.

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Metamorphosis


How can I express myself with so many eyes upon me?

Can I ever be me?

Criticism is around every corner. Opinions thrown at me at random. I have nobody to impress. Let them say what they will.

I will not change myself for any one. Though I may evolve. I will not be bound by another’s expectations.

Picture a caterpillar climbing the tree of life. Exposed to all the dangers around him. He hides for a time within his cocoon to shield him. Till it is ready to venture out into this world. To fly high and be free. To transform into his true self.

What are these feelings I have inside? Is it love or the prospect of being able to be myself? To show my colors boldly. Never having to hide. Never having to lie.

This is who I am. Take it or leave it. What you see is what you get. All the genius. All the quirks. Full of love. Full of pain.

Once again I make a draft. I create a thought. Incomplete as it may be. I press the button to release it out into the universe. Let it be said. Sooner or later it will return to me.

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Cold Winds Blown Out of Proportion


In the midst of my walk through the bitter cold, whose wind still penetrated my five layers of clothing, I mentally dictated my pondering. My thoughts and questions are recited for only me to hear.

Now today is another day. I have slept and have awoken this morning desperately trying to recoup those words which at the time seemed to have so much meaning.

The memories slowly come back. Those grand thoughts seem to not have the same luster they once did. My bout of creative genius and divine poetry, which was sure to captivate all of whom came in contact, has surely been lost to the ether. Once again the brilliance is cast off into the universe.

I hide behind words on a page. I only show what I want to be seen or heard. Expressing oneself through writing is fraught with danger. Once it is written it can’t be undone after it has been read. It is a consequence no amount of editing can resolve. Conversations can often be forgotten. The written word is often read again and again. It is analyzed and criticized. It may be skewed to benefit the reader. Their own thoughts interfering with its true meaning.

I contemplate how much control we have in this game called life. Are we in charge of our destiny or does everyone around us decide our fate?
I may be repeating myself here. My revelations are a constant repetition.

After reading a simple text I myself may tend to over analyze its contents. I may find the hidden agenda in the process. Is all that has been said and done before those words suddenly cast off into the void. These may be the effects of the human psyche wanting to find an answer without taking the courage to just ask a question which would give the truth.

So some of us sit and contemplate our fate. We want to hold onto that little something that we had. Does it make us weak or are we hopeless dreamers?

I guess I’ll go back to my original thoughts. The thoughts in the cold dead of night. The thoughts of who I am. Though you seem to think I have some type of experience. That experience is I tend to want what I can’t have. The harder it is to achieve the more I want it.

The more I live the more I believe of a higher power wanting to make life a challenge for me.

These are just some of the words I share. The rest remain hidden. Locked away in hopes of another day.

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Chance or Fate?


Was it by chance or fate?
That first encounter.
You were always near but I had never known.
So close yet so far away.
Only to become closer with an embrace.
Suddenly revealing everything to me.
As if it were to come so naturally.
What was that something?
That something that drew you to me.
If I knew I’d put it in a bottle.
The experience I have seems to be not knowing.
Not knowing how to sustain what was there.
Perhaps it’s the wanting
The hoping
For a second chance.
To see the look upon your face.
To sense the touch of your lips.
To feel your warmth against me.
To finally seem free.

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What are the odds?


What were the odds of our paths crossing? Call it fate if you will.

The roads that had led to this path are all but forgotten. They were long and winding roads filled with obstacles, detours, and dead ends forcing us onto another trail.

Some trails were harder to travel than others. They were full of muck and mire slowing us down. Others were covered in darkness with only the stars to guide us on our way.

Of course I’ve been lost during these travels. My body shows the scars of the wounds that have healed. The ones within my mind are harder to see.

So when I finally came to this bridge to see you on the other side it was an easy decision to cross. In the hopes of taking you along with me in this journey. To take you to places you have never been before.

Time will tell what the rest of the adventures of life will be. Will there be a road to guide us or are
we merely at a rest stop along the way?

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The end is near.


The end is near.
The end of my therapy that is. Group sessions that I had willfully participated in with the thought that they would cure what ailed me. Sadly they have not cured me but they did give me a glimmer of hope.

The beast within me is stirring now though, I feel him coming out. It seems as if my methods of relaxation and avoiding triggers have kept it dormant.

Now the stressors are increasing again. It’s a mixed state of emotions at this time. Which way will it go (depression, mania) is yet to be seen. Either way will no doubt give me something to write about other than what it has been…. Normal

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Where have you been?


Where have I been?
I’ve been everywhere and I’ve been through a lot. I haven’t written anything in a year. I used to write as part of a healing process.
My writings became fodder for hatred against me. Well just because I am crazy.
The stories I had told were out of this world because I was out of my mind.
My illness overwhelmed me and those around me. Now those that were once close to me don’t want anything to do with me. I am now utterly alone.
It is part of the sad truth. Each step I have taken to improve myself and my life has been met by a great resistance. Those that know me don’t want to speak to me. Life has been better without me in it apparently. There doesn’t seem like there is anything I could do to change that perspective. The damage that has been done is too great.
I hold out for hope. The hope that there would be someone to see me as I am. There is greatness within. Behind the damaged facade. That discovery of what is within will have to wait. For now…

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If you only knew


If you only knew what it was like to walk in my shoes. Maybe you would understand.

These thoughts and feelings inside me are not things that can be controlled.

They make me the way I am.

For most of my life it made me an extraordinary person. I was able to do many different things and some very well at that.

It was always a mystery how it could be done by just this one. I never gave it any thought.

I was driven. Driven to do more.

Then at times there was none. No pleasures. No goals seen through.

Walking through the muck.
The mud clinging with every step in these boots.

It was never my fault for the mess that trailed behind. These things happen when walking through the mud puddles of life. It was always cleaned up sooner or later.

You may have had similar feelings. To what extent is unknown.

I know so much more now but now just may be a little too late.

Or is it ever too late?

Too late to understand why I am the way I am.

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The Last Thing I Thought Of


You were the last thing that I thought of before I went to sleep.
It was no surprise that the dream I had was of you.
Like any other time, whether we were together or not, it was like a dream.
A fantasy of words and feeling that were never meant to come true.
It was meant for the dream world.
Only to last for a brief moment in time.

I see you in my sleep yet I feel for you while I’m awake.
It is a feeling I can’t explain nor understand.
In my dream I was told that I would be missed.
Not by you but someone like you. Someone close to you.
Those were words I never wanted to hear.
Even in my dream I was told it was over.
In that sense my dreams do come true.
Even when I don’t want them to.

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Empty


I am empty.
All my thoughts have been released.
There is nothing left it seems.
My heart is gone.
A void is in its place.
As I’ve written my blood was spilled upon the pages of life.
I may dream but they are dreams of chaos.
They are dreams without a beginning and without an end.
I lie in silence without even sleep to fill my mind, body, or soul.
It is a constant repetition.
An infinite circle of tribulations.
Life is so simple yet so complicated.
What it takes to fill this emptiness within is yet to be known.
Is everything I experience a misinterpretation of reality?
Time may or may not tell me.

Posted in Depression, Life, Living Life, Love, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments