The Importance of closing eyes

Pain was sometime such a sudden rush. Now it spreads slowly like nerve gas, and builds up..inflating like a helium balloon, never rising but sinking down, and down until nothing but a dark vacuum encloses one in a tight hug and then there is no darkness. You become one with it. And the dissolution is absolute and final. And then the one winged goddess comes down. A beautiful angel who is the keeper of all things broken and tattered and yet beautiful. Maybe beautiful because of all broken lines. Like flowers on graves. Like a moonless night. Like withered petals. Like love lost. Absolute. Absolution.

Ride

we ride tonite
on ghost horses.

Strange

Exhausted—that’s how I feel. The trivialities of life sometimes seem so enormous, hiding the beauty that the world has inherently. And I do have this tendency to be blind to whatever is white and an affinity for whatever is bleak. So the greys don’t exist for me. It’s easier isn’t it, to see life as simple black and white. But then that’s the way I am. I don’t feel eccentric at all when I feel no need for long lasting human contact. And whatever they think, I am not cold. I just have sensitivities which are tangents to what normal sensitivities are. I still feel an enormous excitement when I read complex mathematics and I am good with numbers since I was little. They present a stability and they don’t talk back. They are as silent as I can be and that makes me comfortable in their company.
It’s a strange world in which we live. I’m just adding to the strangeness.