Watching American History X again. The kids are asleep, here for another week.
Spent the weekend loving, fighting, wondering, smiling, crying, fucking, eating. Confused. I’m torn, feeling melancholic without any memories yet. What is this life I’ve stepped into?
In strides. I had expectations of oneness. Did not expect synchronicity. Yet, in strides.
I had paths before. Now I have doors.
I’ve entered my future yet so many doors from my past remain open, it’s like a fucking windmill in here.
When emotions were overwhelming, words carried me, brought me here, words were air and blood. My mother’s words are now surrounding me, tearing through the boxes in which I tried to hide, burry, kill them. And I’m speechless at my lack of understanding.
We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained we must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be by the better angels of our nature.
-Danny Vinyard
Une autre semaine. Wonder Woman. Une autre en bouchées double,sinon triple. Back in time.
C’est tellement bien brodé ce texte que je fil entre les lignes, je feel bien les d’or silences entre les d’argents paroles.
🙂
Que font les gens sans histoire? Ce que leur vie doit-être monochrome…
You have a beautiful mind. There’s really not much more to say than that.
(Ok, ok…..you’ve probably got a great arse too {ha ha}, but I’m just talking about what I see on this blog, which is your thoughts that cut to the essence of being oneself.)