Kind of Cruel , Lonliness n' Things.

Felt like writing something this morning the moment that I woke up. Lets talk about time. Things keep moving for us all and I keep dying and reopening myself to life. The days leave into the night than get enough of those and a season comes and leaves. Surrendered to those currents as If they would take me to a place more happening, or a place more enjoyable. It seems they lead me to where I still exist, after the movements, after the exchanges, the depressions and bliss. Some wide sense of aloneness. A fact that I am the only one here. That few and far between have seen the point where I have reached, and if I were to meet one like me. Than I think there eyes would be so far removed from my aim and conception that It would possibly double that sense of alone. I don't know who I am and this lonely sense makes me a stranger to myself.

Theres those in the periphery, that see in terms rather than colors, and see the emotional side of life through personalized reason. These are the ones that know me well and when they greet me are so certain of the reaction they'll get. "I've seen him many times, I know his name, I know his field of feeling." These people are the ones that do not notice themselves taking a step forward. For if they understood this law than they would ask me things at least with curiosity and listening in them.

So I continue to walk and look, talk and answer. Show interest in the things that my heart moves me to live and describe, taking time of leisure here, learning something in this movement and always transitioning, forgetting and losing. Living a life alone has not always been an easy thing for me. I face so many challenges that noone can see. Though I'm faced with the fact I must use my guidance to create around me the proper conditions for anthers development. That I cannot give up what I hold at the top of value, this one that cuts me down to build me up. My very self, after all this time I still hold in tender truth.

And this is strength, not those punks you see on the streets with there shirt sleeves removed. Or the one with the strong stare under a pair of fashioned sunglasses. There is more strength in the bleeding heart of a woman who cannot rise above the ceiling of her brutal husband. More strength in the boy that is of minority seeing clearly his lack of a home. More strength in the old man who spent his life in devotion to his wife, his wife who is now gone. The cloths and images we carry weigh pounds if not ounces, while the heart impregnated with loss holds the world. So before you assume, denounce or expect. I hope you dig into your shallow pockets and see what the coins you hold are worth. Before you plan another trip use that simple function to move on the windshield wiper so that the snow and dirt from yesterday (you call it knowing) is cleared off your window. See yourself before you speak to me, for it's commonplace for a dog to approach someone wanting food, but it's a rarity to see a human in humility asking for love. ~*~