Stone walls & open thoughts

“I need you to talk me out of not leaving him and giving him a shot when he returns.”

And my umpteenth piece pours itself onto my page with relative ease but at a not so routinely time. Then again, nothing is ever routinely when creativity is pouring out of my fingertips matched by the eagerness in your eyes. Wednesday nights usually don’t finish till the early hours of the morning, but I guess there are always exceptions. Heavy eyes and early starts the only reason this is in front of you.

Some walls have been removed but at the same time others are standing higher than ever before. Taking a break, blending in, holding back, that’s what it’s all about now. Four and a half thousand miles is all it took. Amazing what can change the way we look at things, besides the tilt of our head. Those who are in can see through your cold stone walls and those who stand stationary on the outside wonder what the other side is like. But he, knows it all to well, without having done a thing, except be himself. He, who sits at the front of your mind and consumes your thought process. He, who you vow to fix, and won’t sleep soundly at night until you do so. And you, cave in without realizing you’ve done so. Then everything starts falling into place, depending which side of the fence you’re standing on. Religious celebrations leave a mark as to where things are going, and you’re all the better off. A cask of wine, or a bottle of a champagne, accompanied by some finger food and small talk, is just the beginning of the scene. Four hours later you’re in bed and he’s arrived when the time came to. Nothing new, except the bed sheets the following night.

And suddenly this is taking a different course, something out of right field, one that I didn’t even predict until about 20 minutes ago. And as you sit there and wonder if it’s you who is still the protagonist, after finishing this sentence, you know you won’t be.

Storm clouds roll in and the light drops of doubt start to rain in your thought process. Self doubt is a powerful thing, if you let it take over and reign supreme. So get out your sword of optimism and conquer those cynical thoughts. Climb the ladder of belief and gaze down upon the open world full of potential in all its glory. Let those pearly whites draw someone in, but only when the time is right. And then, skepticism shall be defeated, and life will be fine, again. Disappointment won’t even dare to sprint through your mind and open brackets paired with a colon will only be a distant memory.

Now you’re the protagonist, again, after a brief stint out of the spotlight. It’s you who decides which side the grass is greener on. Look carefully though, a double-take could be your downfall. But you already fell long ago.

Suddenly the flow of this is disturbing me. Fuck it, some things just aren’t meant to be perfect. It’s better this way. Its imperfections are what make this perfect.

Hate on my toast and a teaspoon of love in my coffee, just to balance things out.

“Don’t worry about society. Ever.”