“There is little difference in people, but that little difference makes a big difference. The little difference is attitude. The big difference is whether it is positive or negative.”
– W. Clement Stone quotes
There are people you move on and away from.
To them I say, “I am not sad that I no longer know you.”
Experience is like the peeler to the fruit, carefully getting to what’s within. Most times I don’t like what’s inside.
“For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.”
You’re an unwelcome visitor. Trespassing. You stomp through the serene meadows and swiftly chop down all signs of life. You hunt for sport. You kill for power. The enigmatic overflows of dreamless notes are devoured into your darkness.
In the after glow of a great book moment you eat away. Chipping. Gnawing. You gather in all the recesses. You are a plague.
Your hunger is insatiable. All that is will be yours. All that can be taken and broken shall be. You are an ever brewing wake.
In you I see evil. I feel it. Taste it. In you are all the darkest values and desires. To you life is what you can take out of it. What can be removed. Tangible, delectable, destruction. We are the galaxy and you are the sun. Revolved. Distorted. Your surface ever-changing yet mirrored.
You are hard to define because in that would be to know you. There is no one that knows you. Chopped character flaws. Descriptions and whispers.
To say you are anything would mean you were complete. You are without. You are wanting. Destitute and diluted.
I wish I had strayed away from you. Toxic and overbearing, misleading and mindful. We falter to those who need. Interpretations to the lust misunderstood. I’m left, pieces stranded, puzzle. Shapes. Angular and incomplete.
You are the night.
You are the nothing.
Since I could dream they were filled with the desire to be remembered. Filled with a possibility of somehow being greater.
The events that follow prove to be somewhat limiting. However, being that I’m only 24 going on 25, I can see now I have time.
Previously feeling constrained by the counting seconds, I now feel something greater, time. Time for what it is.
I am in training for the attainabilty of what I know is to come. Forcibly so.
What is life but missed opportunity? I never want to feel the sting of regret. Truer then most failings, regret is so long-lasting. In memoirs we leave them to continue forward. Forward carried in the eyes and ears of our descendants.
One day, long from now, I want the wind to whisper my name. But more so, even if I was just “that one girl,” I’d be fine. For it’s what was done and the acts that are remembered that are of significance.
Being recollected is only the small of it.
Let my war cry ring from the mountains as I am now wanting my life to be mine, shared.
We are communal and in that I want us all to have these same desires.
I do have a dream and I hope I never awaken. For sometimes the dreams are greater.