Wednesday, 22 October 2008
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Currently Listening
Undertow
By Tool
Sober
see relatedFeed my will to feel this moment
"The obvious heart has come to collect, 'cause it tore apart like a tortured insect. The obvious heart waits here to heal and balances out a subtle reveal. 'Cause there’s a remedy close, in a familiar dose. This bitter pill to swallow is lost in the bottle tonight. You’re empty, it’s alright, and full of yourself. No need to explain to anyone else. Broken in time, taken what’s left. No need to deny the cause or effect. This heart is not a broken one, but where have all the colors gone? It’s still among the lucky ones. This heart is not a broken one, but where have all the colors gone? You’re still among the lucky ones and burning longer than the sun."
I wish I would stop dreaming, or at the very least not remember what I dreamt when I wake up. The dreams are amazing, but that in itself is the problem. They're so fantastically perfect, overflowing with possibility. I'm tired of seeing all my fantasies, hopes, and dreams played out in technicolor brilliance on the back of my eyelids. As if it isn't bad enough that I think about all of that in my waking hours. I guess I should just be ecstatic that my dreams drifted away from the angry, painful, rape filled scenarios and towards a more peaceful, happy, yet not entirely without pain world of unconsciousness. I know if I just bowed down to all the things I have no control over, I wouldn't be so resentful towards the happiness I don't have, but that, like many other things, is easier said than done, and it's not a matter of being completely unhappy, because I actually am quite happy with my life at the moment. I'm just not very fond of my subconscious dangling everything I want in front of me to rip it all away when I awake. I honestly don't understand why I can't have simple, meaningless dreams that have no significance or lasting emotional stain. I feel as though once I get something sorted out in my waking life and am comfortable with it, my unconscious mind decides I need to be tortured in sleep, just for shits and giggles. Well, what can I really do about it? Nothing. Once again, it comes back to conceding to the things I can't control. Maybe that's my life lesson for the day.
"The most important thing in life is your family. There are days you love them, and others you don't. But, in the end, they're the people you always come home to. Sometimes, it's the family you're born into, and sometimes, it's the one you make for yourself."
Later, my loves.
<---Wonderful.
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