Sunday, November 8, 2009


Writer's block is hell. It strikes at the strangest times, when I really have so much on my mind to articulate. There it is. Nothing, I cannot piece together a coherent sentence of any particular note. So I stare out the window at the grey sky, everything is still, except for the occasional breeze tousling the branches of the cedar tree.


Don't leave. You can't leave, you mean too much, you're too important. You can make good choices here, you don't have to make them back home, this is a place for you. Don't leave. You're considering leaving so much potential here on a false hope there. Perfect as it will get for you isn't good enough for you and you know it, you just crave comfort. I understand, just don't leave, embrace this alien feeling even when it hurts, because you'll know you're living. Your life up to this point has mattered, how many people you have touched matters. You bring sunshine into the lives of everyone who crosses your path, even when you are seeing nothing but overcast. I hope you were just out of it, I hope you don't mean it.

Falling like flies, fireflies in a jar, pounding on the tin lid trying to fly free. The lid is open.

I don't want to see anyone fall, I want to let them out. But I don't know how, how can I make them see that the lid is open? This is not a cage. This is a castle...

Please, please, please...

There is so much here for you. Just see it. Please just see it. You can do anything here, anything you want, anything you need. Just reach out and take it, that's all it takes. Forget self doubt, forget false hopes. Just live, learn, do something, do anything.


... I'm worried about you...
You drink too much.
You don't want to feel anything,
I can see that.

But not everything you feel here has to be bad.

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