Thursday, June 28, 2007

Familiar Stranger in a Masquerade

Friends become lovers.
Lovers become strangers.


I wish I had a pause button that I could just use. I wish I had answers.
I hate feeling helpless. Watching with worried eyes and a heavy heart from a distance.
But I still believe.

Sometimes you just have to go on and on and on and on. Because you just have to.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Into the Closed Room

I've been running for years - shutting those awful memories away. But, like toxic gas, it creeps back into your consciousness, into your dreams when you least expect it.

I can't do this anymore.

It was a Monday. I stepped into the closed room. With him. I hope he's good. Because I'm gonna need it.


Demons can be slayed. You just need a really good sword, armour and possibly a sidekick.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Simple Pleasures

There's something extremely sexy about the way a man steps aside for you to walk past, tipping his hat respectfully.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007


The aftermath of a very disturbing dream...

I think we have explicit expectations of ourselves in specific situations - beyond expectations in fact, requirements.
Some of these are small: If we're given a surprise party, we will be delighted.
Others are sizable: If a parent dies, we will be grief-stricken.

But perhaps in tandem with these expectations is the private fear that we will fail convention in the crunch. That we will receive the fateful call and our mother/father is dead and we will feel nothing. Nothing.
I wonder if this quiet, unutterable fear is even keener than the fear of bad news itself: that we may discover ourselves to be monstrous.