chikyblonde's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Break the bottle she sits quietly trying to clear her thoughts. removing all sound from her presence except that of the music. which is motivating her in that moment. Staring at a blank pad, unsure of what is about to pour onto the paper she knows something is awakening. She feels the burning in her chest steadily increase has she finds that part of herself that hides all she's afraid to release. Like a bottle that continually is refilled, she knows she must empty. Even if it will just fill up again. Closing her eyes she clears all mental images of past thoughts, past lies, past deceptions and cancers. and sighs in amazement that that is the first thing that comes to her mind. Emotional and mental exhaustion have slowly taken their toll on her weathered body and she just seeks release. Hunching over that paper, she finds herself pierced by the slivers of bewilderment and finds the writing begin to take control. But not with the ink of a pen but that of the ink from herself. droplets of blood fall to the canvas and mentally she sees those drops begin to move and flow into words. Words that make no sense to the average reader. Words of another language. But inside she knows what those words mean. She knows the disappointment, the disillusionment with her life, the unknown territories she's slowly becoming all the more afraid to cross into. And she just wants peace again. the mental demons that taunt her before she falls into fitful sleep, the unrecognizable voices that speak of things gone and past. And she trembles as the blood flows faster, with more precision, more determination. She can't read the words. She doesn't watn to. Because allt hey speak to her is the distrust she has built. the walls of resistance she meant to keep up but slowly fell apart unknowlingly. She trembles in fear as she thinks how damn deep they've gotten. She never meant for this. never meant for anything to permeate the stone that another rolled over the entrance to who she really was. And she can't control all that is coming out. she must learn to manage herself. she wants to sit and cry. she wants to release everything that is pent up, bottled in, yet can't find the energy to do it. She won't give energy to it. she won't give in to the same damn mess that bottle makes everytime it breaks. and she's scared. scared to death. but as she continues to bleed out, watching her veins rhymically force the life and death of who she is out, a peace begins to wash over her. and for a moment in time, the demons, the tormented thoughts and emotions are silenced. She doesn't know what to do or how to make sense of the current state of her mind. But she is going to choose to cork that bottle while it's still empty. And hope nothing manages to leak in. But subconciously knowing, it's inevitable. because what's the use in having a bottle...if she can never fill it.
________________________________________ 12:13 p.m. - June 22, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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