A Road to a Road to a Road to a Road to a Road to a Well.



It's strange...

this, wanting.

It's like I've finally been shot through with life -

like a syringe of fleuroscent candy-light...

I put my whisp-thin palms firmly-trembly against a surface,

I notice a bottle that reads Drink Me printed on its side in old cursive...

I drink it,

I put it down...

There are soon more - soon many others more - and I drink them also.

We weigh...and we weigh up the consequences of our heart and nature,

and soon we are consumed,

I feel like I'm seeing the light for the first time or the last...

and lately...

It feels more like the last than anything else.

But if it's true...if it's all true,

then I'll have realized that fate and death had never truly stopped knocking,

and hey...

they do so looove to hit me in the most unexpected -

and unguarded -

places.

Needlessly said...

It's more a detached-incredulous-relief-bitter-

making-you-want-to-scream-and-cry-and-laugh-

bewilderment.

And then there's it,

the most...

I never expected this sort of a situation to feel like

This.

You've created the greatest electricity collar...

Herr Fate,

My body a ticking time-bomb,

and the penalty...

a drop of blood for him, forced unwillingly -

and by my own hands -

more times than I can count,

So as to live.

What kind of a life is that?

No.

None.

But...

To choose,

a life lived pacifying death...

or death,

or until fate just decides,

to run his blades through.

 

Un-melody just,

the only kind...

of decent act in any state.

Is to allow this one,

to wings she grows,

and a life lived on despite the blows...

To the sorrow we will go,

Until we can turn the light on again,

and then amend,

amen...

am.

Downtrodden - beaten back...

down the old devil's track,

I'm scared...

but maybe that's the whole idea of enduring,

Of staying put,

even when you are terrified.

At least,

at least I have an exit strategy!

Bahahahahahaha!

 

My gosh I just feel reckless and wild and

I wish...

that it would storm.

That the clouds would bulge ugly and purple,

and that the lightning would shriek and tear trees apart,

and that the thunder would be so deep and long and wide...

that you can feel it trembling in the core of your spine,

and in the space between the skin of your feet and the bones there.

That the wind would blow so feircely and

with such arctic wild coldness and

clear-ness,

that the grey would be stripped from buildings,

and the smog would lift and...

the trees would bow with its' weight

and their leaves blown into spindly threads.

Like wool.

Like tall grass.

Then the rain would splinter through the clouds and...

everything,

would be washed away.

There'd be nothing...

and all the medical papers would be

washed

down-streeaaaaam,

and

the records,

and

the darkness

and

the drowsiness

would lift.

 

An endless, clear rain-water,

that would wash away all the maps and clocks and presumptions.

And I could just...

wander away,

follow a pale, cobblestoned path...

to a city by the sea,

where there are no walls,

and all things stop...

as does time,

and it all just...

Where the long road ends,

and the streets are wide

and ...

I can feel my edges again.

 

  Much Love...and know that I miss all of you, my friends out there in, :] , the 'real world'.
     Yes I know...the place I work is a cult :] .
  But please don't worry about me too much yet, all of these things are really only what my body
seems to be telling me, and...I haven't even, I don't even know if it's true.
  It might, hopefully...just be all in my head. :]

  Miss CLScarlett xx