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Spin. spin. spin. Things are easier when they're a blur. But once the spinning stops, the blur disappears. Life comes back to focus. The colors go from streaks to faces. The adrenalin stops and consciousness takes over. Reality's a bitter pill that we can't avoid forever.
We could try.
That would be dumb and futile.
Love like your heart won't get hurt. Even when that subtle ache you suppress continues to hover over every leap, bad judgment, and self-sacrifice. Forget that sting. Forget that wound that lies fresh in your memory. Those hands. That smile. That smell, hair, eyes, and laugh. Forget those pictures of holding hands, kissing in the dark, and candid smiles. Forget the way those arms felt wrapped around you. That sense of belonging is alienated. That sense of purpose is lost. The end comes. And it comes fast. With that end, comes enlightenment, and endless tugs of war between the factions of your psyche. The burden comes as another is lifted. There's an end to make way for a beginning. One is too small to build a world of expectations. It comes and comes again. It's not always right, but that shouldn't stop you. It comes and comes again. Welcome. Open. Don't hold back.
No regrets, they say.
Live it, instead.
The nightingale's sweet song doesn't stop til perfection. Push against that thorn. Songs so sweet. Songs so beautiful. With that melancholic undertone that can't be taken away. With perfection comes that inevitable end. The end of who you are. The end of all you know. The end of logic and rationale. It's true. It's true.
Good god, it's true.
1 comment:
tetel, you are so articulate. i envy your talent in writing.
i miss you and you can always talk to me :)
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