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Last night was nearly a full moon, or the real thing. It doesn't matter. At this elevation the lens effect makes it so brilliant and beautiful and large. It walked outside and it was as if I had stepped into a daylit dream of silver beams. It was just so bright. I could see every little detail in the pine nettles, every space in all of the dim, translucent tree shadows. It was really lovely. I stayed outside for a while, just walking about in the unearthy warm-chill. I knew I was a little cold, but I didn't care. I just stepped around in the perfect silence and the perfect light; no awful things except me in the peace, and my eyes didn't hurt either.
I wish it was always that way. There was nothing else except me. Anywhere. I'm not even that alone in my mind; it was just nice to enjoy the moment, and banish all the thoughts and people and memories. It was happiness, in a way. I never get to feel that, not ever. And for just thirty minutes or so, I was dancing in a field of silver sunlight, a rain of dreams and joy.
I have a lot to catch up on. Six inbox rps, another twenty or so messages, remaking three threads, helping some people out, posting in rps, updating myself on events and commenting...It makes me sigh, and want to run away.
To homework, at least. Three essays, over nine hundred net pages spread out through three textbooks, and assorted small work. I feel a little daunted by life sometimes, I think.
I'm sad lately that I've been forgotten about again. I know the people I'm thinking of have busy lives, but this time they promised. And forgot. It always hurts me just a little more when someone says they will do something insincerely; not small things, like posting, or talking or anything, but big things. The big things that I trust, and really hurt when I'm left all alone again.
I'm not on the dusty floor, like I usually am. I haven't been forgotten in a pool of sunlight on the attic floor, from children playing with me and growing older, to run away and never say goodbye. I'm on a dark, dreary shelf now, and I can't see the world below me. And everyone's forgotten. I wish they wouldn't.
I think maybe Tuesday I'll sing a little, if I'm up in the daytime. I haven't sung in a very, very long time. Longer then I've had inspiration, or a wish to actually write. I'm still debating NaNo, as time and inspriation are not what I have. And thinking of all the dreams I've had of late. Lovely, upsetting dreams. They usually aren't like they have been lately; it worries me, as I know that means a change, or a conflict. Or a loss, if not most likely a loss. Those aren't fun.
I really want to be little again. So I don't have to understand, and I don't have to think about being left alone. Then, it was a way of existance, and I didn't know there was more. I was much happier, and I accepted things so blindly. I like that way of doing things, but I can't anymore.
I want to give up, really, really badly. But I can't. I'm too tenacious, too prideful, and too unforgiving. It's like someone rather wise, but fading, said. "Those who are as rigid like a board shall be broken by those who are strong, like karate experts."
Maybe someone will come along and break me, and then I can go to sleep and not think about what I won't allow myself to reach for. I'm old and tired, and I want to give in.
 DarkRybrin · Sat Oct 27, 2007 @ 09:41am · 3 Comments |
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