Another Night

And you try to determine where it is you went wrong all those years before. Where were the mistakes you made that incurred this wrath and suffering? Where are the evils that have caused your castigation and purging from the social world that surrounds you. You sleep on the other side of a two inch wall hearing the voices at the party, and knowing that your invite wasn’t lost—it was never sent.

They laugh. You cry. And all these moments pass you by like raindrops falling from the clouds above. Just like that. You saw the clouds rolling in…drawing nearer and clouding out the sun and the blue and swirling around as the light and the world around you transformed…just the way it does with a storm. You saw those clouds, but you were helpless. You had no control. You couldn’t turn the clouds away, cause some wind to blow them apart or force the sun to rise and cut through again. You can’t undo the rain that falls.

And yet you ask yourself where you went wrong. You were always the one with the control. Always the one with some sort of power to sway the way others loved you, hated you, wanted to spend their time with you. A man hits you in the face and you ask why did you deserve it….because in the end, it’s not that you think you didn’t have control over it, but that you did. That somewhere deep down, no matter how weak and sarcastic that ‘why’ is, you really meant it. You really want to know why.

Is this weakness? Is this some strange weakness that is felt by you and the world at large. Each singular person feels it to be sure, at one time or another. It is a blessed person with a blessed life who doesn’t. Yet the masses seem so untouched by it all, because we are all very fake, and we are all very foolish. If any of us were smart, we would drop our guards so that others could see the same weaknesses that they themselves hold…and the world would be home for us again. It is no longer our home.

The world has become this strange mirror we peer into to compare ourselves and we are always far more ugly than last we remembered. Twenty more scars for every second and not a day goes by where they don’t fade. Except those few magical days where good is found….when someone holds out their hand and looks in the mirror with you. And you find that they have the same scars….and for a moment those scars pass away and you realize that they aren’t scars at all….they are you….the real you…the thoughts and the visions and the hopes and the dreams. All these magical things that make you something worth respecting.

Respect and love are all but lost in this world. Tradition has destroyed them. So has life. People say that life is a beautiful thing, but that is not at all true. Life is an ugly instinct that makes creatures try and push each other to the ground and bury them. Life is what makes us hate and sneer and scorn. And love is just as bad if not worse, because once again life has its part in it all. The only good thing left to mankind is the dream. The dream of something greater. The dream of something better…..the dream that we may be more than life and love….more than heart and brain…..the dream that we are a soul…that we are cosmic and never-ending, and that all that we do today is not lost. And that we have control over many things, but we are not to blame for our faults. It is an ideal, a strange and almost hypocritical one to be sure…..but that is what dreams are for…are they not?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I want to say whole-heartedly that I am in love with Claire Leake. And I know that some may say I don’t know her well enough. I know Claire about as well as I know anyone. That’s all there is to it. We say that we can’t love someone because we’ve only known them for a week or two weeks. I’ve known Claire for two months, does that mean I know her any better? No. I know what she likes and hates, I know why I like her, I know the way she walks when she’s happy and tired and sad and frustrated…..I know the way she thinks and what movies she likes….I know her favorite color, her car, her ideal living places and her ideal job. But does that still mean that I now can love her? What is that? It’s not love that we search for when we get to know a person better….it is not love that we reach….we reach acceptance. Love to me is that first feeling that says this girl makes me smile and makes me feel like that hollow space in my chest might just go away for good. She does that. She does so much more. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled like this before….the way I smile when I watch her….

I just want that bad feeling to go away for good….and I never want this good feeling to go away.

So do I fight?

Log in to write a note

Let me first say I found this entry via the Random search thing and I’m glad I did. What an amazing piece of writting. Did you come up with the first part yourself or is it somewhere? The second part was great also. It sounds like you really care about her.