...open like a book with no cover,
Exposed, glistening, bleeding, moving...
is this pain or exstacy?? Is there a difference?
Is being torn apart in your own mind over something that may be nothing worth the experience of the range of human endurance??
Yes
This was written lst September I think, and I found it on my livejournal which I visit about once every 6 months or so....Just thought I'd add it here for all of you 2-3 people that read this journal...
6th Sep 2005 @ 2:35 am
Title: Scars
There are few who have experienced the true meaning of their existance...The ones that have are indelibly marked for the rest of their lives. Most have fond memories, and the mark left on them is beautiful. Mine are scars...And not the pretty ones either, which coil around the skin in a maze of light, shape and texture. Mine are jagged and rotten, and shall ultimately shed to new scars, far more horrible than the last, an everchanging dance of rebirth into something more and more terrible and hopeless...This is the life I live.
My life is like an open book, written in a language no one can read...Just turn the page and pretend like you understand. Its what I do too. There is no future, only past, and even that is unclear, so whever you think you know me, or want to know me or pnder that you have known me, think again. Its all an illusion, created by a fool for only fools could wander so far from their path.
COMMENTS
-
Isis101
05:36 Jun 05 2008
whoa...