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There are days I need the solitude of an
empty home, devoid of people, sound and demands, when I only need the wind
flowing in from over the ocean to brush its cool fingers across my skin.
There are days you cannot hear me sing over
the thunderous rock music of the 60’s, as the drumsticks in my hands pound out
their rhythm beating in my veins.
There are days I must submit, a total
surrender to my hedonistic inclinations, when you can play with my desires as
freely as the wind draws on the canvas of my limbs.
There are days I must immerse myself in the
select company of those with comparable thoughts, similar energy and insight,
get lost in conversation, coffee and laughter in the too-rarely felt timeless
state of well-being.
Then there are days when the all-familiar
shadows draw near, drowning hope and redemption, a drenching mist leaving
nothing I see or feel untouched,
and there are days I need to be the silent
observer at the edge of your consciousness, reading your words, inflections,
your movements, strength and need.
Some days I’m at peace in this world I know I
can change, some days the wounds are too deep and my life drains away.
That sounds like life all right.
ReplyDeleteThere are two distinct ways to take the ending. One with hope. One lost in confusion
ReplyDeleteThe hussle and buzzle of life makes me wanna b very quiet more and more, friend Shadow ... LOve, cat.
ReplyDeleteOh yes...I've experienced ALL those kinds of days. And more.
ReplyDeleteMost days, these days, the only noise I like is a soft drone of solitude and the occasional hundred rounds firing from my hand standing alone looking at paper.
ReplyDeleteThere are two distinct ways to take the ending. One with hope. One lost in confusion
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