Monday, January 18, 2010

Words of Mystery

"Bits of lightening shocking my heart. Funny feelings swirling abroad. Thoughts rambled, jumbled up. Eyes never tearing at these horrid thoughts."

I find no reasons for these particular words. Words come, words go. But writing them down means they are alive forever. I've written two posts before that sing out what I feel. "Absolute Truth: The Lie Within Myself," and "I've Found You....I've Lost You." The first about who I am and what I feel towards myself, the second a poem, hopefully soon a song, about how I feel about my father's death.

Two subjects of which I'd thought I'd never write down. Because like I said, once the words are written, they are alive forever. I didn't want them to live and didn't want people to know. I didn't want people to know that I'm on my way to despising myself in certain areas. I didn't want people to know how angry I am about my father dieing. And yet, I've written it down.

To me, writing your thoughts down, make them final. Make them real. Alive. But thoughts can change too. So can writing them. I've gained friends, all of whom I cherish. And one thing many tell me- I've gained courage.

It's a thought that glows and wonders. Glows with pride, wonders of its accuracy. It's a thought I hope is true.

I hadn't known what I would be writing about until those words filled my head that begged to be let out their cage. I can contemplate what they mean. As can anyone who reads them. These words that just pop into my mind without a care, like magic, aren't really rare. They just are, they're just there.

As I ponder what meaning those words have to me, I ponder if anyone will contemplate it too, or even cares. "For I know I have many relatives, friends, and acquaintances; the loneliness still lingers heavily in my mind and heart. For I know that people care; I know not of the completion of heart." Another set of words that have haunted me till now. Words I think of, words I hear, words I know. Words i know are illogical but still...alive.

The thoughts of this mind are always running, like an overtime and overrun engine. The woes of the heart sometimes thought of, sometimes forgotten. The mystery of the words are sometimes known, others...only and just a mystery.

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