'Writers are liars by nature, but just because of that, don't discount us. For it is through our lies that we tell the truth. Our stories become the mask.'

Saturday 18 August 2012

The Long Pale Road...into There we go...humhumhum

 Peace...tranquil, and in-between places,
 
   If you had a choice, if you had to choose one burden to bare forever, would you take the demons you know? Or would you take a horror that seemed more attractive, or known, or easier?

    Each day I find myself hating, and loving, hating and loving...like a damned malfunctioning light switch.
     The truth is that the more I feel this slow bitterness growing in me like a plague, the more bitter I am towards myself for it being so.

      Even this is nada, and no cause for concern. Things pass, and they always have, and they always will...forever. It's how we look at it all that get's us through, but sometimes the shadows are long and sometimes claws appear in the darkness and I don't know if I'll ever sleep again.
   Sometime's I love them so much that I feel I could rip my heart out to be rid of the intensity of that emotion and warming to those I care for. Some thing's can just be so unbearably beautiful that it would be wiser to stab them in the heart or bind them away, so you don't have to see how despite this...despite how much you love things or others - or how beautiful things can seem to be - they are more than likely going to be marred by life.
   Is it better to kill them quick so you don't have to bare the pain of knowing something like that could exist even when it's doomed to perish and be turned into something ugly. Then again perhaps life will be merciful and just let it die as it is, rather than morphing it into some blackened version of what it once was...

     Nah, lighter lighter...pant's on fire, curiosity killed the cat...but then again, so did generosity...

  Memories...huh. The most important thing we have I think. What are we but creatures remembering things that at the time we took for granted or didn't think about too much?
   Like night-lights in a dark, dark night.

  Back when I believed more in...Him, (and I'm not trying to preach to you here or make you uncomfortable.), but I had this one image, like...it was just one day out of any and I wasn't even that aware, I had this sudden flash of a single, short image. Like I'd just regained a memory, or a de ja vu of knowledge. The image was simple really: a salt and sea-like atmosphere, a breath of wind blowing against a pale wicker chair, a soft white embroidered fabric sheet, lace and open spaces with warmth and sun fragments.

   It came with such a beautiful feeling, something Heaven-like, almost...and the certainty that one day, everything that has been taken from us will be given back.
    I really don't think that God is the maddening, rule-slamming, jealous, overlord religion makes him out to be. Meaning that, somewhere deep inside me I still believe that one day it will be all different and it will be what no one expects and just...

     I mean, what if that incessant restlessness that we all feel is that nowhere this side of here is where we belong...that there's a homeland...somewhere?

Ah...just bare with me.  

   I've had other fragments like the one I described, and some places where it's felt like something solid has rooted hold inside of me, and it feels right. Yess, hippy girl...I find most of these in nature.

   I used to comfort myself through thinking of a long pale beach that stretched into nowhere, and I'm just walking along it, heading into the white (and my type of beach is cold-winded and warmish stills, with clouds and occasional blue lacing the sky.)
   I'd keep walking and I wouldn't hear any of my normal thoughts, or the negativity or the shadow of doom and...I'd just be me, and not anyone else and no one would really care.
   Then, in the distance a figure, a silhouette would appear. Eventually he would come closer, a man I knew...a faint glint of green or blue because I could never really tell. Maybe even gold flashing.
   Then he would lead me somewhere...to a jetty perhaps, at which a boat would be waiting to take me away to somewhere...the right place. Where it all stops, and the time moths cease their gnawing and the shadows don't grow long.
     An Eventide place.

    It's almost too much to bare...thinking about that homeland-like place, argh.


   
     So we do not forget...that the darkness is only a terror we cannot see, and only the brightest...most Brilliant light is found in the darkest dark.

    I will keep going, and we all will keep going, and maybe...if I can learn to start laughing at myself and my fears, I'll be able to sit down with death and fate at one hundred for a nice cup of tea and a laugh at all our old antics and fights.


  That would be rather nice,

Much Love,
Miss CLScarlett xx 

P.S. Christmas cherubs!!
 

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