Tuesday, November 21, 2017

You allude to we

Living between the space of absolute and absolution. Confinement never feels comfortable. Choosing freedom creates endless possibility. I am not able to accept what is being offered. A change of heart? Possibly but not that simply stated. If that is as good as it gets in your world you are obviously an amateur which renders any and all promises void. Your withholding of facts constitutes a lie. You tried to use your lie as a key to unlocked my truth.  My truth is greater.  Your word has nothing to attach itself to in my smooth existence.  I've gotten here through a very real path.  You can't be honest about your path. Reality exposed.  It is for certain the one thing I can count on from you. You will never tell that truth. You can't, you are incapable.

Reflections in the glass
Seeing undetected
Catching an otherwise unreadable emotion
Honest or primitive because it is unguarded
Not mine to reconcile

It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96

Monday, November 20, 2017

Buffoonery

He stood far enough away he didn't need to hide.  As long as he stood still he belonged in the surroundings.  Blending with the combined trees and bushes that made the park.  It was by chanced he was there.  His mind tormented him.  To him she was a reaper come to take his soul.  The truth didn't matter.  His reality ruled his life. She seemed to walk straight toward him. He heard the jingle of keys. She turned her back toward him to unlock the driver door. He ran straight toward her.  Slammed her into the side of the car before she could turn the key.  He fell on top of her. She hadn't yet full realized what happened. He smashed her hand around the keys with his fist forcing her to release them. She at first thought he only wanted her car.  Her keys on the asphalt.  She attempted to get herself off the ground. Thinking he was going to hit her with the door. She never thought to scream she was a modern woman. Fearless brave strong. Her nerves were built like a mountain. He was not interested in her car, her career goals, or her body.  He was fighting her for his life which meant he would have to take hers. The forensics showed she tried to fight, but finding her lifeless body meant he won. Robbery obviously not the motive.  A sarcastic press release read:
Looking for the winner of the fist fight at Dunbar Park on Thursday evening.  Come down to the precinct and collect your prizes and endorsements.

It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96

Upright and vast

I'm not sure how I got it so wrong, but I did.  Here I find myself again being led by more lies. Following this new lead. The promises hollow. The details fill in like paper scraps in the breeze.  Being caught by whatever stops them for the moment.  It doesn't seem fair to allow this much creativity to escape into the unknown.  The world can decide what to make of the empty chair.  The image for me, when I thought it was for me, meant something personal.  As inviting as an interrogation for all my energy to be drained. An attempt to trick me.  It has since been discovered, those riches can be found anywhere.  No longer needed from me.  The invite has been revoked. The chair filled by the new muse.  I continue on with my same wants. Guarding what has been given to me. Waiting for the rightful owner.

It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96

Saturday, November 18, 2017

Coolness

He walked around the corner quickly.  Took away the necessary seconds for composure. Her reaction was off guard.  She whispered a common greeting. He glared through her with an emotionless face. It wasn't a look to be read as him not  seeing her. He was annoyed. That lipstick.  Had it been his instruction to wear it, no problem.  She realized it would cause him to ignore her the rest of the day.  His control was a follow up, leaving her to determine the cause.  No eye contact, completely shut off.  He wouldn't allow her to redeem herself.  It would be a long day.  Until he accidentally gathered up her papers with his. She had to retrieve them before he left.  She approached and said you took my papers. With the same indifference he returned them.  A crystal ball cannot reveal what happens within the soul. The facts and fears encountered in a moment is a roll of dice. The game, the rules, the winners, the losers.  With a longing to resolve, the pathway bends leading deeper into the shadows of trees.

It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96

Monday, November 13, 2017

I'm good at trying to make sense out of nothing. Sifting through imaginary rubble. Looking for usable thoughts to sustain me. I accept the insight leading me to believe in a possible ally. I have wanted this for many years. It's a welcomed blessing but I'm scared. A powerful resource. I've made promises. I forfeited my irrational, unpredictable and bare defense mechanism in exchange for calm chaos. The silliness fallen away.
It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96

Friday, November 10, 2017

Establishing Terror

With the sound of an alarm you don't have to see it to know it's there. Seeing him standing there finally without anyone around. The moment things begin to strobe and senses pique. They stood and stared at each other longer than the setting deemed appropriate. Beyond the imagination, the months and moments that led to this happening. Buried deep like Merlin in the rock, and Atlantis in the sea. Hidden in the blind spot, of the ego. For worthy initiates only. She listened for his words he listened for the silence, the stillness. The energy expended to sustain the charm burned out immediately, no slow ethereal dim of a setting sun. The source cut off. It took awhile to regain internal composure and feeling the feet touching the ground.  With hindsight clarity.  The occurrence equivalent to the warrior seeing the banquet and spoils after the conquering raid.

It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96

Thursday, November 9, 2017

Know Thyself

He said. "I know I'm slowing down your shooting star. Can you give me a moment?" She was used to breezing through what seemed like familiar terrain. The everyday life. Doing what you got to do. On pause waiting for the rush of insight. Distracted by his handsome face. It was not easy to see the torture contained within. The stillness. The vortex. The flow. It is moments like that when creation is simple. Separate and distinct elements each working to the fullest potential. The boundaries broken. The last hurdle on the journey, reality.

It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96