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[Oct. 8th, 2006|08:57 pm] |
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| |  rejected | ] |
I could write a biography, a story, a definition, to me. None of it would really matter. You'd be no closer to knowing who I was then you were about 3 minutes ago when you decided to click on my link & view all of this. I could give you my age, my sex, my location, a description, yet you'd probably be unable to pick me out of a crowd, if you weren't paying attention. You wouldn't recognize me in this world. In a world where minds have become distorted, we can't pick up on these signals our hearts are telling us. Maybe if we listened, things would make more sense, maybe if we listened, war would cease to exist. But no one seems to anymore, the majority are impatient, in rush to discover every secret, to un-riddle every riddle, solve every mystery. So set on figuring everything out in a day, we go into overdrive. This is as you see most now. Dreaming of ripping our hair out, screaming until our throats give up, stressed until our bones become a liquid. Our hearts were designed to set us straight, not the one that beats inside, sending blood through our veins, but the symbolic structure in our chest, that's whispering in our symbolic ears what we should say, think, do. Instead we listen to our brains, we listen to reason. Letting ourselves be bound to the limits of earth. We no longer think for ourselves, but let our brains be controlled by increasingly destitute material we see on TV, hear on the radio. Following celebrity icons as if they honestly know what they're doing, these people who are loved for their looks, craved for because of their voices, & musical abilities & acting careers. They're a public beauty. But there is also beauty in the way the air moves, the way rain falls, the way it looks & smells & the way it cleans the earth. There is beauty in every tree, creature, figure of nature, even of the parts we choose to close our eyes to. Parts we choose to ignore. In doing this, we've created a false reality, one that exists in magazines & TV series. We imagine ourselves in these fake people's shoes, hoping & dreaming that maybe one day we could turn out like them, instead of hoping & dreaming that one day we can turn out like ourselves. Like the person we were created to become. We leave the trails, the shadows of our destiny, to walk in lights of people's lives that have already been lived. All because people have closed out the images our hearts speak to us. The images that are ours alone, that no one could see, but us in our deepest dreams. This images are truth, are light when we seem to have lost everything. This is the reality I've come to see, with this, I've grown, I've started to listen to my heart, instead of stressing these material possessions. I want to live in a world full of colors not found in the rainbow, full of sounds our ears can't pick up, full of the images my heart has finally succeeded in showing me. It took me sometime, yes. But I'm happier then I've ever been. This is my world, where no English grammar rules follow, no set way to phrase a sentence, to phrase my thoughts. My feelings. This is a story, a story filled with a million characters, a thousand plots & conflicts. This is the story that I am writing, a story with heart ache, love, disease, & comfort. A story that not many will understand yet, a story some may never understand. But if you choose to listen, & choose to open your mind to allow the images from your heart in, then you'll see the beauty in a blade of grass, the beauty in life & death. & you'll realize, we're all meant for great things, if we'd just hold on to the dreams. |
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princess_lyss's journal
nervous