ramblings

So here we are the changing of the season, the changing of the day’s and one’s hope is that as the night fades away, the love and joy remains.

We strive for the perfection of ourselves and instead become lost in our shells. The pearlescent on the walls the distraction to our constant fall.

Determination the essence that is to free the mind, yet the simplest thing lost in all the gadgets that we find.
A muse another term for what we hold outside ourselves.

The creativity that we wish we held within, we project outwards to those that we perceive are worthy of it more, or whom inspire us to be what we are, when really all they do it allow us to flow into our potential.

These projections of ourselves are really our own reflection and like ourselves easy to break. A paper-thin wall with the screaming on the other side its white washed molecules hide nothing but the passing of air.

So why fall into this way, this reflection of papier-mâché, is it more appealing to be the creation of others and not hold your sway, or is the task of creaking your world and yourself to hard to fathom today?

I strive to be what I can, yet daily it seems, I am reminded of all the work I have to do, the tasks
and road, never ends and I yearn for it to continue yet I find myself wishing for another mission to arrive on hand. One of joy, one of fun, one of adventures out in the sun. and it makes me wonder, is my path not to be what I enjoy? What sets me free? Why do I feel bound, shackled and changed, but what I long to do, instead of a life wonderfully re-arranged. A shot of pain in the side and a wonder what do I bother to try, this hole I drift into in my wondering of what I am to do. Besides be frustrated in the path that I wish to take, yet always feeling like I am simply being fake.

With such thoughts hung about, like masquerading decorations on the walls, one is to wonder what depths do we all contain inside ourselves, that are never shared. behind the faces of laughter and joy, what causes the being to continue the smiling face of a toy? keeping of the peace? desires for all that was once know to remain the same? perhaps it's a simple fear of what glorious things one could become if pushing past and through what one is used too......




who would've thought I wrote this all while listening to Electro-Swing?
such jaunty happy music. :)
As an actual update besides this random ramble, I have have still been writing, though my "muse" as we could call it, is drifting between a variety of mediums and I find my focus has wandered everywhere. As we say in the "biz" of my other work, it would seem that I am going through a major shift.