Sunday, October 28, 2012

Letting go to be free

I know both sides.  The letting go and the building back together.  But I don't like them both.  Letting go is easy.  It's easy to forget what's around me and just move around like tectonic plates over subterranean hot spots.  The trick comes when I have to be conscious of what's around me.  How do I go back?  What do I go back to?  And where am I going?
I get a feeling something big is happening.  I can feel it but I know not what it is.  My heart sometimes turns upside-down and I don't know what to think.  I want to fast-forward out of here to where the problems are solved.  To where we're not living on the brink.  To where the edges of disaster and majesty have been crossed and we're on the other side.  We have something defined and we're not so concerned with what others think but we're concerned with others.  It's like some days I would just rather be in hibernation until my mind has learned its way around this world.  And some days I just want my heart and my head to get back together, or at least be on speaking terms.
Some days are good, I'll say that.  They're even beyond that.  But what is it that I am sensing?  Does anyone else feel it?  Even if I turn my heart back on it's head, I sometimes feel that it I'll discover the skewer that is holding it in its place.  No one can understand words that come too heavily from one source so perhaps it's time for me to shut them up.  It makes sense even to me because the sewer they're escaping is nearly empty anyway.  It is easier to close the floodgate when there is not such a rush of words.
Oh, but here's another thing.  It's like Taylor is trying to convince my heart that I want something.  Or I'm convincing myself of that by listening to it.  I don't know what to think really.  I do know that somehow, despite all of the gruesomeness of it, it would be quite an experience to hold a beating heart in my hands, but when will that happen?  Perhaps only metaphorically.  Which reminds me of one more thing: metaphors and clichés came from somewhere.  Sometimes they feel like more than just words.  Like a broken heart really feels cracked.  But that's it for now.  You can go read something else now.

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