My heart feels broken, but it lacks the strength to truly voice its concern. I feel like I have had the wind knocked out of me. They aren't going to get it, are they? No matter how much I know myself, there are so few with ears to hear. Who wants to be preached at? Who wants to feel like someone has the upper hand, for that matter? No matter what I do, I will be misunderstood time and again. Where is the hope in that? My journey has brought me beyond the quest for recognition, but now I only feel like no one recognizes me at all. The freedom of these words is that I can express my heart and keep some distance from their responding power. I see beauty all around me, but am scolded for naming any of it. One of my fears is that despite my efforts to keep pieces of me hidden, those that drag them out only succeed in misreading my directions. I take a risk and offer some sort of advantage, but that too is misconstrued. I thought love would call me out but it appears now to be silencing far too many of my expectations. And maybe I was wrong all along for imagining what life looked like over the line. Stillness has offered itself to now serve as my reply. Don't come after me. Don't try and solve this. Do not think that you hold the key. Wait... stop! Do you really believe that? The tale has taken turns, no doubt. But I never expected such disinterest in my surroundings. I need new life, a theme that accompanies the prospect of new fears. To be understood is the foundation of my story. To be known, loved, no excuses for my failures but grace beyond limits... even when I fail to ask for it. I hate thinking that this too will offer them any kind of advantage. But at some twisted level, power exists to be exploited. There are those soon coming that will control my future. Will I give them that privilege? Do not think that you can know me by deciphering these terms. These are at best fragments of all that is unfolding. And maybe they are only attempts to stir some interests, to get someone to listen, or to grab hold of a power that I happened upon years ago. Question my motives to your heart's content. You will never know, beyond lingering thoughts of trust.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
.: a mirage of perception :.
My heart feels broken, but it lacks the strength to truly voice its concern. I feel like I have had the wind knocked out of me. They aren't going to get it, are they? No matter how much I know myself, there are so few with ears to hear. Who wants to be preached at? Who wants to feel like someone has the upper hand, for that matter? No matter what I do, I will be misunderstood time and again. Where is the hope in that? My journey has brought me beyond the quest for recognition, but now I only feel like no one recognizes me at all. The freedom of these words is that I can express my heart and keep some distance from their responding power. I see beauty all around me, but am scolded for naming any of it. One of my fears is that despite my efforts to keep pieces of me hidden, those that drag them out only succeed in misreading my directions. I take a risk and offer some sort of advantage, but that too is misconstrued. I thought love would call me out but it appears now to be silencing far too many of my expectations. And maybe I was wrong all along for imagining what life looked like over the line. Stillness has offered itself to now serve as my reply. Don't come after me. Don't try and solve this. Do not think that you hold the key. Wait... stop! Do you really believe that? The tale has taken turns, no doubt. But I never expected such disinterest in my surroundings. I need new life, a theme that accompanies the prospect of new fears. To be understood is the foundation of my story. To be known, loved, no excuses for my failures but grace beyond limits... even when I fail to ask for it. I hate thinking that this too will offer them any kind of advantage. But at some twisted level, power exists to be exploited. There are those soon coming that will control my future. Will I give them that privilege? Do not think that you can know me by deciphering these terms. These are at best fragments of all that is unfolding. And maybe they are only attempts to stir some interests, to get someone to listen, or to grab hold of a power that I happened upon years ago. Question my motives to your heart's content. You will never know, beyond lingering thoughts of trust.
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