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Friday, March 19, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Dreams that don't leave you
Falling,
Slowly.
The simple act of reasoning ever, just so slightly, beyond capability.
A black-blue landscape stretches though the surrealism, painterly, yet the wind whips, brushing her face ever so gently she can almost clutch it, like a velvet robe. It's the kind of breeze you only get during a hot summer night but it doesn't feel like it does when you're there, it feels the way the memory of it feels, comforting. But she knows it's icy cold and lashes at the dead branches jutting out, stretching with the landscape, reaching over the rocks.
Looking down over the ledge, the water swirls, a navy blue-grey floor.
She doesn't take risks.
What's it like? To fall that far? The rush, simply glancing down to the substance below turns something inside her.
So far... But not really that far. Surely. But it would be so easy, just let go, that's all it takes to try it. To just let go and feel something, for a change. Just a change.
She drops, the curiosity too great to sustain rationality.
Wind, still warm and comforting, still ripping at her as she drops. But she can't let go and half way down she clutches for dear life for the hollow sticks reaching out from the brown stone. And then simply hangs in fear of the drop she has to take only to realize that once she finally fights against her cowardliness, her complete discontent and removal of all she knows, she is but a few feet away from the chill of the sea liquid.
Falling into the thick water she begins to swim, towards a triangle. Because she can.
Slowly.
The simple act of reasoning ever, just so slightly, beyond capability.
A black-blue landscape stretches though the surrealism, painterly, yet the wind whips, brushing her face ever so gently she can almost clutch it, like a velvet robe. It's the kind of breeze you only get during a hot summer night but it doesn't feel like it does when you're there, it feels the way the memory of it feels, comforting. But she knows it's icy cold and lashes at the dead branches jutting out, stretching with the landscape, reaching over the rocks.
Looking down over the ledge, the water swirls, a navy blue-grey floor.
She doesn't take risks.
What's it like? To fall that far? The rush, simply glancing down to the substance below turns something inside her.
So far... But not really that far. Surely. But it would be so easy, just let go, that's all it takes to try it. To just let go and feel something, for a change. Just a change.
She drops, the curiosity too great to sustain rationality.
Wind, still warm and comforting, still ripping at her as she drops. But she can't let go and half way down she clutches for dear life for the hollow sticks reaching out from the brown stone. And then simply hangs in fear of the drop she has to take only to realize that once she finally fights against her cowardliness, her complete discontent and removal of all she knows, she is but a few feet away from the chill of the sea liquid.
Falling into the thick water she begins to swim, towards a triangle. Because she can.