the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
the secret war ~ May 4, 2005 - 1:53 a.m. it's been a time. i feel like i'm at war. an undeclared war which no one but me even knows is happening. i'm just torn apart, again and again. i am limping through it, carrying myself forward from one breath to another even when it hurts too much to move. i sleep when i can and do yoga like other people do crack. my heart is a well of darkness and pain, and my eyes in the mirror (which i thought to look into, for the first time, today) are terrified, my face haggard and drawn. i hear my own voice and realize i'm talking out loud, rasping and strange. disjointed sentences, things like i don't know what i'm doing, and it's all i have. i pass risa's words from hand to hand like prayer beads, every day. she says i'm being rebuilt, reconstructed. stay calm, she tells me. i believe in this. reconstruction. that this is the pain of chaos, and that feeling so lost leads to being found. i have been here before, i know this broken glass stretch of road, this strange weather, these cold shades of grey and white glare screaming into my eyes. this ends, it always does, and i'm always the better for the trials. it just goes on so long, when you're in the middle. it feels like forever. springtime is like this, sometimes. like being torn apart, again and again. like being at war.
(((rings))) |