Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Go baby.
Aaand now, the time has come. After talking the talk, changing the talk, writing the talk, arguing the talk, and being silent The hour hand has moved AND. It's time to walk. To walk without searching for a new beginning in a new day, or time, or New Year (Happy Sri Lankan New Year by the way). But no, that's not why it's time. It's time, regardless of my current planetary positions, or the direction I am faced in. It's time because I can't wait anymore. I have been caught in the deep end, and I've flailed and failed and changed my mind, out of obligation and indesicion, and not based on what I want. I have lied to keep people happy. Screw that. I've heard it all, I've listened, really listened. I've been a shoulder to cry on, and I've cried alone. I've forgotten to breath and I've woken up because my heart's beating too fast or too loud for me to stay asleep. And it's been frustrating. I've pulled myself away from everything in an effort to see things more clearly, and I feel like I've wasted my time. So. Today it begins and it will continue until I am too tired to go any further. And I am going to give life my best shot, in the hope that when I look back later, I will be satisfied with what I have created, sustained and achieved. Until then. Some parts of my brain are turning off. And others are turning on. 'It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the Master of my fate, I am the Captain of my soul.'
Friday, April 8, 2011
Slow burning.
Ah, it's been a while. But you know, that's all time I was living. And living equals experiencing equals learning. So here are my lines. The anticipation in realising that I'm just scratching the surface with you, and with me. Picking the journey over the destination. Still waiting to get on a plane, but with less desperation and more understanding. Attaching a lot of significance to little things. Interesting. Good or bad? A bit of both. Freaking out less. dramadramadramadrama, I'll watch a movie instead. Substance over style. Every time. In the middle of a manifesto.
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