Madness (Winter's Song)

A great madness compels me from the inside to be more than I am, the trouble is what am I? Not such a simple question for I am woman and I am also man, I am music, I am taste, I am fashion, I am all,

and I am nothing at the same time.

I sit in darkness and pull out my hair from it's greying roots, it stings just briefly, I cannot suppress my inner urges, trying is a useless endeavour.

Winter sweeps the ground outside my door, yet the bitter cold still sits with me all year long. I look upon the glistening blanket under the vast expanse of sky is it up or am I down?

Through my pane it sings to me, beckons me to run upon it's frosty blankets wearing nothing more than my pride. Lay down it says, and I shall look upon the stars before I sleep, but only for a while.

I can smell the pine of the evergreen as the deep chill sets into my spinal column. I imagine that with this bitterness that if I wept, it would no doubt freeze to my paled frost-bite threatened cheeks.

Such stillness, surrounding me, the only thing that moves is the shallow rise and fall of my chest as I breath, in than out and in again.

Nature knows no bounds, and I am of it, we are as one, there is no tomorrow there is only now. Madness knows no bound.

The Unrelenting Urge

It amazes me to realize that not everyone has the urge to creative something of your own (other then pro-creation that's another topic entirely.) be it art, theatre, film, music, food, many types of writing, the possibility are endless, and only ever bound by your own mind, where the sky is never the limit. To me this comes from somewhere deep inside of me, some place I can't really explain. I can however go there and tap into it when I need, it doesn't always workout for me, which leaves me painfully frustrated but the never ending need is there and can be quenched if only temporally.

I do my best to feed this need even-though this need isn't always co-operative. I would like for once to finish an original piece of some sort and be able to print it off and wave it around so I can jump up and down and say look here, look what I did! I've always had this feeling like something, something big has been waiting to burst out of me and I have been on this struggling journey to pin point exactly what it is I've been looking for, I have so many times come away empty handed over the years but I am still trying, I've never fully pegged out. I will be twenty-six soon and I still haven't found it but it's so close I can taste it, this prospect excites me.

I'd love to bring down the lightning and finally come face to face with this presence that's always been lingering with me, just sitting inside, playing hide and seek, and it's been laughing at me for so very long. I want to do everything in my power to drive it out for once and for all. There has to be a key, there has to be something that I've been overlooking, something to drive the beast inside of me out into the open so I can capture it in all it's glory. Listen here muse I want to be the one in command, no more shall you slip away on me and hide inside the pages of my mind, no more will you mock me from the depths of my soul. I will find you and find you soon, as the internet as my witness you are no longer safe and sound.

-Blake. H.

Tesla wrote a poem.

“With every breath your bosom heaves I wish it were for me,
For I've loved you more than you can ever know, and will eternally.
Not king, nor countryman, not even best at show, but I am the genius
who brought the light to glow, still it's not good enough
without the taking of your hand. You've broken my heart a thousand times shattered it in three, you've bloody well made me write poor mans poetry! From afar I admire thee, fight at your side instead,
though I forever I will hold the not so secret lust to fall with you upon the bed.

P.S. I hope you never read this, I do enjoy both heads.”

Albatross

I'm not sure when it happens but there are times when I stop and my depression begins, sometimes when the dark days take over it's hard to see past the end of my nose, especially during the winter months, it becomes a time of just doing everything I can to see another day. It's easy to forget who I am and how hard I have fought to be here. I also get easily lost when my body is mostly pain and I can't write the way I want to, or do much of anything that I would like to do. For the most part I work through the pain regardless of how I feel because if I didn't then, well there would be nothing and I'm not okay with nothing. I've convinced myself that I'm not meant to be around other people because of the patterns of behaviour that don't seem to change no matter what angle I come at it from, it always ends up the same way with hurt and pain. I have one friend that I can pick up the phone and call but I know I will never get the comfort I seek, so I can't keep setting myself up for disappointment. I've also had a hard time finding what I need from myself, which leaves me torn.