or so

tiredness is creeping in and a candle and keziah jones and a teddybear.
where did all this go? cryptic imagery just to disguise, real words lacking for lack of courage to defend.
well, laziness/lazyness could be a factor in all that, for going through the hassle to defend, explain (in the worst case) or rectify seems so overrated.
so what, whatever you think, be it. but that's exactly the problem, no NO, so don't BE it. i don't want to be that. i don't want you to put it in my face, your stupid judgement. your ideas and notions as to what will be.
i have to watch out, whom i share myself with. the sad lesson of a naive child growing up, of course, and such a reoccuring red thread in my life.
so funny, to think, that I would pour all this into here, black in white, in obscurity, risking the fact that you would read all this and take a picture in. allowing you to think whatever the heck you want to think.

in the end. i really just like marveling and amazement. the comfi dizziness and realtiveness of obscurity. there I am, with my smaragd (germand for: emerald) eyes, flaming into the sea.
not too long ago my dad told me that me too, i'd have to grow up at some point and so it is.
or so.

to stand my ground, to flucking roar in upset, fletch my teeth and sharpen my claws.
to risk a friendship? to risk hypocrisy to be laid to rest.
forgiveness, so stretchable a notion. a process that gets repeatedly interrupted by my inability to let go. clinging on to little bits here and there, maybe, one day, i could use them.

so yes, the leap of faith not only like jumping in new cold waters, but also shedding tears and skins to embrace a whole new layer, a little more close to the innermost peels of the onion.

aww, ah. what could i say. in all these meanigless words in disguise. what could i say to formulate without creating a formula, a stationary scratching into hard marbled stone. that i don't want what is. that i want it different, veiled up, diffuse, in obscurity? the sweet wafting of scents of another lifetime lulling myself into the belief that everything, in the end, is okay?

i have scratched, beaten, hit, bitten, screamed.
i have cried, sighed, smiled and frowned.
i have loved, lost, waited, found and seemingly let go and lost again.
and i can't get my mind off of you
or so
it seems