Edited Captions

I feel like writing, intensely. But I have nothing to say. So i'm listening to Otep-nein. And waiting for inspiration. I should be going to sleep.

One of my fav. lyrics from her:
*I am made of pages, paragraphs and inspirations
paper girl, burn the world, I pass the flame to you.*

I've been concocting poetry and wondering if after the many years- will I run again? I've never once followed through, regardless of the best of intentions I often have. I walk this line of longing with rejection running along either side.The desires we all hold in our hearts, well mine contain shadows and I always run from them. The things I've always wanted send me into a panic. I know, the past doesn't necessarily set a precedent for the future, only I decide that.

I hope for the sake of this ink ensconced muse- I suppress the panic and follow through.

When you're young, you don't quite believe you'll never be who you are in those moments. But you do change, often profoundly. I always thought of myself as mature and i'm coming to see- I had no idea. Especially emotionally speaking. I realized this when I recently saw someone say- things will never be as they once were. The immediate connotation I went to wasn't exactly negative but it danced with that end of the spectrum. And then I thought, those words are absolutely right.

But what if that simply means- things could be even better.

As a loather of change, it's hard for me to admit different isn't always a bad thing. When I began to think on all of this, I was drawn to the very first line of the novel I wrote. It's a commentary on life being intertwined by free will and destiny simultaneously. What will be will be, ultimately. We decide what we do with what we are given. Sometimes we decide wisely, sometimes foolishly. I've seen this over and over again and I of course have my theories. And then you come to a place in your life with a pretty broad view and the view is breathtaking. Life doesn't begin to end after your youth, it begins to end the moment you're born. So why squander it. Appreciate what you have, unclench your fingers from fate's throat, and realize it's all about the journey. And what may come will come, let yourself breathe. Enjoy the ride.

One final note, for one certain stalker: Never think it's too late to apologize.

My lovelies~ what would I be without you.
~B.