9.10.04 - (2:48 a.m.) :
A world locked within glass, A world that could never be touched...
A spiral, endlessly transgressing through the wave lengths of just emotions
that we as humans create and co-join to function with one another in hopes
of creating more. But what if one shade of the spiral’s endless tendril decides
to choose a flow of solidarity. Can one suffice and survive through there own
means of company and presence? I have asked myself this for the last 10 years,
and still I am lost within my questions and forever sacrificing, scrounging for
the answers. Maggots of frustration that harbor and lay away within me, they
feast on my anxieties and suffocated means of wanting to approach the world
with something more, something great, something I could offer to someone that
no other could offer or hope to touch. But as I look back, the years I have
lived, the time I have spent, they are nothing more then stones, slowly
collecting moss through the currents of time. The years I have spent in an
idle means of hermitage, slowly in a timid fashion searching for the paths
that would be best suited for my apparent created style of living. Have become
nothing more then the foliage and brambles that shield and barricade the true
means of my existence. Everything and everyone search for the mistakes and
the goals and dreams of their past and future and in time we all learn to
evolve and grow stronger within our heart and mind. I believe now is that
time for myself, for me to continue I need to find something more, something
new, something to heal me when I am unable to bare the burdens I have created
on my own accord. Perhaps the answer lies in the snow burden garden I dream
of. Layered within shards of opaque white, the glistening arms of the hollowed
trees shroud the tearful sorrowful sky. And the soft thicket of the frozen
ground echoes to the age of ancient past of those who have been there before
me and those who died before ever touching such place. They’re standing within
the luminous seraphic garden, a figure of shilouetted means, arms of warmth
extended to my presence and a smile that beguiles the heart in chains of
gossamer gold. Whispering ever so softly the words of comfort and guidance.
Forever and till the end of time I will continue to search for such a place,
for the treasure that lies within the brambles of the decayed winter. This is
all that I know of now and all I feel to live for. Till the end of time and
the ages after this is what I want and nothing more.
~Dirk~
