[Pic from here]
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart--
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Missing a key element in my means to function. All the dominoes threaten to topple quietly now. Mesmerising, sad display of beautiful destruction on a minimal scale. We build only to tear down. It has nothing to do with looking beyond borders, it goes no further than myself. In this bubble of my own construction it's only about what I want, what I need, what I believe. A little selfishness is healthy every now and then, even if it stays in the confines of my mind. This is the iGeneration though and more and more we're fenced in by our ourselves. "If it doesn't touch me, why should I care?" So doomed, seemingly forever, to repeat mistakes of the past. It's all about relating, about feeling close enough to the matter at hand for it to have gravity, meaning specifically for you. But here we stray, yet again off topic. The threads of my composure are fraying a little more with each passing hour. Responsibilities clawing at the door. "Mustn't let the monsters in." So grab the holy water and the crucifixes, be sure to take the baseball bat too just for good measure, let's venture out instead. There shall be no crawling under desks, cowering in closets, hiding in the dark places, waiting out the night. We are the children of darkness, and we aren't afraid of ghosts. I may not come back whole, I may not be unscathed, but my fate will have been entirely my own. Foolish and rash, born on the impulse of unrefined thoughts, it's true, but these dominoes are toppling, I may as well preempt disaster and be the cause.
Music: We're getting a divorce, you keep the dinner - The Gaslight Anthem
Mood: Moody
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