Goodnight

You cannot force a dream and have it be true to heart.  Such attempts create poor substitutes that reek of stale fantasies that were created to be used with others.  Recycling of this manner is both foul and disturbing and drains my senses of both energy and inspiration.  I crave the real, the true, I want to know that thoughts of me steal their way into your mind and leave a path of unfulfilled desires and constant cravings that beg to be fed. I want the dreams you create to be mine and not just echoes from a past with another.  Spare me your manufactured tales and instead let the silence win out.  Perhaps the emptiness will tempt your appetite and reawaken fantasies that are genuine.

Truth

Wouldn’t it be great if we could stop time for even the briefest of instants?  For just a moment we could live life consequence free.  No obligations, no obstacles, just freedom to do what called to us in our most private of dreams.  What chances would you take?  Would you stick to the routine of things or would you just do whatever called to you the loudest?  Would you spend your time wreaking havoc on your enemies, holding your dearest love or caressing the object of your carnal desires? In that one gift of a moment, how would you choose to consume your time? 

A Reaction

I’m not your broken doll that is in need of repair.  I do not need you to teach me or guide me or rescue me from myself.  Do not try to mold me into some sort of figurine that is a mockery of who I really am.  I am smart and strong.  I have my own identity and am quite secure in who I am.  I will not be trained in to filling whatever role you see fit to have in your life.  I am more than that.    

The Deed

Sex is the currency of the modern age. A commodity used for power and control; its value only determined by what you receive in return. Freedom, adventure, status, acceptance, forgiveness, love; all can be bought by a simple romp in the sheets. Long forgotten are the days of romance and courtly love, they have been replaced by haste and obligation. Once held at such a value that men would die to have it and women would wait forever to give it, it has now found its place among the most functional of actions instead of the most honored.

Jealousy

It’s a unique situation when you have to come to grips with sharing something that doesn’t belong to you in the first place.  To know that your place is so easily exchanged can be weakening.  How could it not?  Your voice is just one of a chorus and your touch can be duplicated by another.  Of course it’s naïve to assume that it would be any different, but it’s heart wrenching to have it confirmed.   

Blind

I can’t imagine what it is like to live in the dark; void of color and beauty, only filled with shadows of what is supposed to be.  That supreme loneliness would tear holes in an already fragile spirit.

The Messenger

I watch and wait.  Just as staring at a picture of a long awaited excursion gives it’s traveler hope, this image offers me a sense of peace and comfort.  Do not see my patient lingering as a sign of weakness or worse, lunacy.  It is simply a reminder of dreams and wishes that are normally lost at the first light of dawn.  Without even a word, that image transports me back to the deep valleys of my mind where hungry monsters sleep with ears standing tall, awaiting a cue to attack.  That presence offers a path to escape, to explore, and to feed.  It silently calls them to their feet and urges them to run instead of continuing to fade into nonexistence.  Without it, they sink into the quiet darkness, muffled by the distraction of the great beyond.  So I wait, all the while beginning to doubt my own sanity as I become the prisoner of a list that holds the only connection I have to my most intimate demons.

A Request

"Trust me,” she asks, she requests, she pleads.  The irony of the situation is not lost on her.  How do you trust one that by definition of her role proves to be a liar?  How do you see past that to the part of her that is gleaming with virtue?  Some can’t, many won’t.  With her whole heart she hopes that he will try.  She needs him to know that while her shell might be tarnished, her core is pure and she will never betray him in either spirit or actions.  Her loyalty is total and complete, with no chains attached or coded rules to follow; as her sincere intentions are only to support and encourage him and to perhaps eventually be there for him to confide in without fear of consequence or judgment.

“Trust me,” she asks.

Circus Wire

It’s a carefully balanced path that I follow. Stretched tight between what-if and maybes, I cautiously pace out my journey through life’s great adventures.