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My Own Prison I realized something just a moment ago. An explanation
of my sudden reality and all the colorful descriptions that I could
shower upon it would be no easy or understandable feat, so I will not
even try. The mere realization of my own destiny - an unseen power of
which I have never felt the presence of before - has humbled me to near
speechlessness. I loathe helplessness: that feeling of entrapment from
which there is no escape by one's own hands. I cringe at the thoughts
of being bound to the will of another...and yet that is exactly where
I stand. There are no chains binding me, nor have I been restrained
or threatened in any way. Somehow, somewhere, in the not too distant
past, I fell victim to the onslaught of an invisible prison. I was stolen
by mere words, thoughts and the perceptions of my heart and mind. They
betrayed me - my own flesh - and humbled me without any warning or pretense.
Somewhere between the shadows of illusion and energy I became enraptured
by a passing soul. Faceless, voiceless and all too fleeting it was,
yet something lingered long after its passing. I realize the androgynous
undertones may be a bit deceiving, but I feel it is necessary. I have
been indulging the shadows and that beautiful, fleeting soul for far
too long. Gender roles have bent and have become just another technicality
for which I have no use for. I dwell within and beside it, as it does
me, here in my own prison. I often feel myself floating above the realm
of conscious thought. Sometimes I long for this place so strongly that
I ache from the inside out. That state of perpetual anesthesia has become
my garden of heavily thorned roses, my escape route to blissful torment,
my need. I am honestly not sure where I go when I leave myself. Maybe
it's conscious dreaming. I've entertained thoughts much heavier than
that in the past, so it makes relative sense to me. Now that I ponder
it, most things make sense to me. I don't always find solace in that
fact. At this very moment I can feel that distant adulation calling
me, playfully taunting me, begging me closer. It is impossible to ignore
something that has invaded your very being. Just as the sea is enraptured,
engulfed and made permanent by it's resounding waves, I am made the
same by mine. Twilight. Dusty horizons and unclear visions deceive the
awaiting nightfall. How beautifully tragic: the death of a sun-kissed
afternoon. I have embraced this prison despite my own will. I have become
used to it - so used to it - that I can't imagine being freed from it.
I would gratefully wear chains, if there were any, just to stay here
with the fleeting soul that I found in this conscious dream. The mystery
of being hopelessly - helplessly - in love. And what of destiny? It
it my captor, and love, my prison. No restraint necessary, for I am
a willing captive. Sentence me to Life - I beg of you. Indeed, I have
realized something. |