They flicker and capture each moment tattered and torn. Like antique cameras they record every moment through distorted lenses. Foggy glass and sharp scratches become an authentic certainty, transforming the truth.
This is my false reality, I envision through jaded eyes.
Beginning so pure, once so innocent; crushed by each experience. I can still sense the Good, its still somewhere out there. Although I can not see it anymore.
So I continue to search, eyes closed to my surroundings trying not to be swallowed up into what we only believe to be real.
Slowly removing the picture of what once was, what ought to be and piecing it back together the haze begins to fade. Piece after piece through eyes of clarity.
Judgments will not cloud this truth. My experiences will no longer control my world. Instead I see everything as it is as I wait for the indescribable to find me.
5 comments:
Hey, thanks so much for the comment that was really sweet, and I agree, I'll keep writing...whatever! :)
You have so much to say & you say it so well.
Some of these lines just leap from the screen.
There is clarity found in those "pieces"...as is.
`x~William.
Thank you... I think I have over come my personal wall :) I will post more soon.
History has no future. The title alone is intriguing. Nice work. I came across your blog while “blog surfing” using the Next Blog button on the blue Nav Bar located at the top of my blogger.com site. I frequently just travel around looking for other blogs which exist on the Internet, and the various, creative ways in which people express themselves. Thanks for sharing.
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