Round and round we go, never really quite sure of anything until it's finished. The words come out formless sometimes, taking shape as they become reality, affecting listener and speaker only after verbalized and shared.
That abstract feeling of awareness that sometimes captures one's thoughts is such a misleading and elusive aspect of being. Even the consideration of actually being alive rarely seems to be certain enough as to comfort one's uncertainties.
Communication is a struggle to feel each other that has happened to me on occasion. One must truthfully want to know the other or all is wasted and precious life time is lost for nought.
In fear of never knowing and of never being known, we strive for that contact that is such a disturbing thing. I once loved and lost - at least I think I must have. But now I wonder even more what it is that drives me to babble my atrocities at such length when all that is required is a moment of passion. But I do need more than that and yet, I am confused once more.
Approaching sanity from the far side is a frightening experience if only in realizing that fact.
The years have shown me much and still I find that I flounder with my emotions and involve oh so many with my frustrations. So many days and yes, even more nights, have gone away leaving a yearning feeling. This craving for life that drives us on leaves so little of value but the knowledge that we are such fragile and confused children in the world of hurt and loneliness.
If only - I have said these words so many times. Would it be more rewarding to confront life with careless abandon without regard for purpose? Is it futility to expend so much for so meagre a reward?
I oftentimes believe that I will never know the light of true love.
