I heard my own voice saying some very painful, scary facts a few minutes ago. Facts that will change my life (and another person's as well) if they are to be acted upon.
They are painful and scary but I think they are true. I don't want them to be true, but it has been months and I think there is no denying how real things are.
Yup, this entry is turning into an 80s song and it's disgustingly cheesy. Note to self: the closer one's life gets to the lines in a cheesy 80s song, the more pathetically grown up one has become.
It is black Saturday, and the seasons wax and wane and lives are forever changing, always always, always.
The pain of being alive---how did I grow up and be part of this? I promised myself I wouldn't, when I was only half-grown. Then whatever secrets I had that made me immune melted away verrrry, very slowly. So slowly that I didn't notice how I had *gulp* "grown up".
I need a reprieve so badly. That isn't the way though. One must grin and bear it. One must keep trying.
So I will play a song that pre-dates 80s cheesefests---I'll go hippie:
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game
-Joni Mitchell
They are painful and scary but I think they are true. I don't want them to be true, but it has been months and I think there is no denying how real things are.
Yup, this entry is turning into an 80s song and it's disgustingly cheesy. Note to self: the closer one's life gets to the lines in a cheesy 80s song, the more pathetically grown up one has become.
It is black Saturday, and the seasons wax and wane and lives are forever changing, always always, always.
The pain of being alive---how did I grow up and be part of this? I promised myself I wouldn't, when I was only half-grown. Then whatever secrets I had that made me immune melted away verrrry, very slowly. So slowly that I didn't notice how I had *gulp* "grown up".
I need a reprieve so badly. That isn't the way though. One must grin and bear it. One must keep trying.
So I will play a song that pre-dates 80s cheesefests---I'll go hippie:
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game
-Joni Mitchell
No comments:
Post a Comment