The paralytic dreams that come to haunt are not ones of detriment, but ones of actual becoming, a becoming of what could be… if, and only if. To push beyond the scope of the self-inflicted wounds, the self-condemnation, and the places where we punish ourselves…where the doubts echo in a seemingly endless void. But doubts are found only in the retrospect of error, and they may be trying to say something a little different than what pangs the heart? You see, words are gossamer in the lack of light that falls at the bends of experience. We think we fumble in the dark, always conscious of flaw, making promises to a vacant and indifferent wind, hoping that we can beat the odds. In reality, the odds were broke long ago; we just don’t remember it because we’re in the thick of it all. Draw breath, straighten the leg and unbend the knee. If, and only if, then can we say “I am…” (only You can fill in the blank) and maneuver from there. ; )
Posted on: Sun, 07 Jul 2013 04:47:07 +0000
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