untitled 2It was as fine an afternoon as any summer could bring. The soft warmth of the sun on my back and the coarse green grass at my feet provided an interesting and altogether pleasant contrast as I walked among the endless fruit trees. I spent much of my free time in the orchards. Here I could be left alone with my thoughts, and with the trees. I looked to them like I would a friend, and they became protectors to me when the need arose, for many a time had I hidden within their concealing arms to avoid being forced into work by my father. This afternoon, however, I was not walking the inviting corridors with intent of shirking my chores. I huntitled 2
influentialMy energy flees from me with the last fading notes of a song I long to hear again. So easily is my mood affected that, I hope, with the coming of the next song I will be renewed once more. Over and over I have filled the kettle. Endlessly I drink coffee in a vain attempt to prolong this pleasant elation. I am filled with a need to run and jump and fall until the strength to move eludes me and is replaced by sleep. Even more fulfilling, but in a different way, is holding myself back from the edge. Wanting to find an outlet and not doing so may in the end be more satisfying to me. So long asinfluential
burning chairsWeak links show in a strong chain where the chair in front of the fire is too warm a spot to vacate and too comforting in a cold reality to remember an ill past. Clinging helplessly to a thing made false with bribery and lust sleep is made an illusion, shackles forged from such lies make a transition such as that from chair to bed impossible. Here the barrier is raised, to be embraced in sleep the bed must be reached, to reach the bed the shackles must be removed, to remove the shackles the lies must be rethought. Though seemingly contented and filled to spilling with happiness the chair cannot be forever, stay in front of so euphoric aburning chairs
like-my-parts
Lazy
).
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