Watching the water helps some. I'll sit with a book and pay no attention to the time. I can feel the sun bleed strong on the skin, and in a moment the burn is quenched by the cool air wafting off the lake.
Like, I said. This helps, a little.
Looking beyond this moment to tomorrow, the pages are stark white. Not even a smudge or a line to tease me. There's nothing, and I can't fathom a thought. Like, kerosene, it only adds to the fire plaguing my mind. The thoughts and hopes of yesterday burn bright.
I've been searching for solace, something tangible. In my search of familiarity, I've veered back to a time when I was more innocent. The possibilities -limitless. I never feared failure, not once, I only feared never trying, despite obstacles and impossibilities. The challenges only sweetened the reward.
I'm far from finding that innocent girl.
Knowledge can bring a wealth of loneliness. Loneliness of thought and truth. It's a burden. It feels like a burden. I'm making efforts to look away, to set my eyes on frivolity and careless images. I need to do this for a time.
This post reads a bit sad, I know. It's not meant to be.
Recently I heard droplets of what I initially feared for someone I think so well of. My senses became heightened when hearing and seeing the reality, and a sigh fell off my lips. It appeared unnatural. But I'm not the storyteller, only an observer. And I left the unsightly image for a time, but it has reappeared, and with it many strange and curious words of concern. And I don't have much brain capacity to dwell on rumors. But it was a concern before, and knowing the darkness of what could be, I asked God for confirmation, which I don't ask for often.
I asked that if true that a bird would shit on my car. And when I went to drive today, I saw two very large splats of poo on the windshield. Coincidence? I dunno. I'm gonna ask again. Than again, it's not often that a bird shits on your car, let along twice and never so splatty.
Keep you vaguely posted on that one.
You see, if there's one thing I despise most, it's control. To have a hand on someone or something, all for selfish gain (this has many branches). One must exercise great wisdom when placing that kind of spell, and it is a spell. The backfire will never allow a peaceful nights rest. And without rest the body will decay from the inside out. And IT will come for its return (fill in the blank: wealth, health, kin), perhaps not today, but in good time.
Yeah, this post is a bit grim. I will try to write a more frivolous one next.
