This is the beginning of The Beginning.
It is in the time of dying grass and dying days that I find myself starting anew. And this waning sun brings waning friendships. The light is dying on these great works, and my eyes stress to see them any longer. So dim is the light as I look ahead that if I didn't know they were with me I'd be sure they were gone. Or perhaps they are. And as I choke on goodbyes the curtain draws tighter. Darkness abounds. Yet, through the void I feel the warmth of light teasing my nape and I need only to turn around to see again. But I will undoubtedly lose all that turn my back on. I must move forward but I need to hold onto that fading life! Surely, this will tear me apart!
This is the middle of The Beginning.
Everyone is capable of loving, and I am thankfully included in that generalization. In fact, I feel myself highly qualified, highly motivated, highly ... whatever you may. There's so many emotions associated with love, and that choking sensation in my chest isn't one of them. I know what to do, I know how to do it. But as the saying goes, timing is everything. And it is this with which I grapple. I don't think I know when it's time to give everything, let alone anything. I see into the future when there is no present and I miss what is staring straight at me. So I find myself stuck with a closed mind and an open heart. And by open, I mean damaged from firey words and thorny thoughts. Left alone, it has simply dried out. A vacuous vessel of potential, it lies in wait, waiting while the rest of my self straightens the problem out. What the problem is, is the problem. Well it's one of the problems because the problem is one problem but figuring out the problem is another problem entirely from solving the original problem. Needless to say there are problems, the least of all being that I am clearly confused. Clearly to you, not so clearly to me. I clearly need clarity. With dirty glasses this is hard to achieve but as I wear my heart on my sleeve I shy away from using my shirt as a cleaning apparatus. Don't worry if you don't get it because these thoughts lay within my mind and not yours (luckily for you, reader) and like most other rhetorics, these words will pass straight through your exhausted brain. But I hope to impart upon you this need I have, the need to love. Or perhaps, I need to be loved. God I need to straighten my head out.
This is the end of The Beginning.
