Reading broken_dreamer's journal

I was lying on my bed this evening, listening to the public radio station playing some sort of choral ensemble. Really rather conducive to thinking, if I do say so myself. And so I thought.

I thought about my feelings, my emotions, my life. How I approach my life, and how I deal with my thoughts and emotions. I came to few conclusions, and even fewer useful ones. I can only describe how I feel when I feel, and that leads to nothing, really. For you, a look, the smallest glimpse within me:

Trapped, enchained. There is darkness, and the damp air thickens and curdles around you as the smell of mold and mildew and anger reproaches you for seeing the penitentiary that is my mind. Me they reproach for the mere thought of escape. The guards walk the narrow and ill-lighted corridor, clanking their batons upon the bars of my cell. Rusted, yet strong. They are loud and cold and bitter, especially that they might imprison me. My emotions stroll the length of the hall, cackling at my misfortune. I have but one window, yet it too remains solid and barred, with smoky and opaque glass beyond the bars that hides the rays of sunlight that might otherwise sneak into my abode. Water drips slowly upon the floor, and I lie down to rest on the frigid gray concrete.

No rest enters. No brief respite from the memories that flood my mind at every chance and moment they might have. Happy memories, sad memories, sexual and painful, comedic and tragic. Yet memories just the same. And thus, unfortunate. Trapped, and chained, I am, and I remain.

The seclusion of the soul takes over. The silence from the inside drowns the noise all around. Alone in a crowd of thousands, she falls to the earth as her heart empties - her body empties of all energy. She is alive, she is breathing, but that is all. She cannot move within the cage, not even the blink of an eye. It has put her in an iron mask, from which she must watch this impostor masquerade as herself. She is powerless, and realizing this, she gives in to the dark silence, forever slowly falling as the shattered pieces of the world she once knew surround her.

Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live.

This post was edited by broken_dreamer on Nov 25, 2005.