Isn’t it more interesting to be unwritten and not know which direction your life is going in? Predictability; that is where we grow bored and solemn. Still, here I am staring at one of the many tabs on my browser and the one I should be focusing on is blank. Sheer white, blinding and making the pain in the base of my neck worse. It’s no better than the nightmares that indeed are reality played out; my subconscious calling me out on my denial.
Perhaps denial is the wrong word. Maybe, it is just hope that it’s not too late to change things. When does one draw the line though? Do we only say we believe it’s never too late in the beautiful aspects of peace and love when we so desperately cling to hold on? When does one run out of chances? How do we tell ourselves the pain of change will be better than the pain of falling deeper into our rut?
When do we live for today and not for what the past has taken away?
Reaching…for that something in the distance but will my fingers ever grasp it? Perhaps, maybe, or not at all, but I still love the hope that shines from these lyrics because no matter how far we fall into our rut, the rest is still unwritten.
This one has always been a favorite and this rendition’s haunting beauty lingers at the tip of my tongue and swims in the silence between my thoughts. I keep pondering one of my characters I write often with my bestie/wifey and I can’t get a scene out of my head. I wish I could film it instead of writing it out in story though because the imagery from her powers of illusion and flashbacks from her past make for a powerful yet dark vision. Words would not be needed. Perhaps I can try…But I can’t post it until I do so in our story. To Be continued…