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Her..
Sometimes I wake up and wander. No, not wonder, but wander.
Not wander in the sense of physically walking around to places of unknown location, but wander as in a mind that is going from place to place in a library of memories about her. She was great and she was more than amazing, she was exactly what was needed at many different moments in my life, but just that, moments. Moments are not long term, they are constrained by time, and restrained by limitation. Hell, I do not even know if that makes any sense, but if you're with me then you understand exactly that I mean.
The thing about her is that she was always there when there was nobody, and she was always there when there was somebody. I do not mean to discuss her in riddles, but that is the only way she can be described, an enigma or question mark that is both an exclamation point and a period to what once was, once upon a time ago and is nevermore.
What ever happened to her? Who knows, but it does not matter because she left her mark. Scary thing is she came to me in a dream, where we were walking along
a place we used to both spend our younger years. In the dream I was holding a book that she handed to me, and when I went to open it the pages were blank.
Confused, I asked her why these pages were blank and she responded,
"Because our story is not over."
- Droz
Sometimes I wake up and wander. No, not wonder, but wander.
Not wander in the sense of physically walking around to places of unknown location, but wander as in a mind that is going from place to place in a library of memories about her. She was great and she was more than amazing, she was exactly what was needed at many different moments in my life, but just that, moments. Moments are not long term, they are constrained by time, and restrained by limitation. Hell, I do not even know if that makes any sense, but if you're with me then you understand exactly that I mean.
The thing about her is that she was always there when there was nobody, and she was always there when there was somebody. I do not mean to discuss her in riddles, but that is the only way she can be described, an enigma or question mark that is both an exclamation point and a period to what once was, once upon a time ago and is nevermore.
What ever happened to her? Who knows, but it does not matter because she left her mark. Scary thing is she came to me in a dream, where we were walking along
a place we used to both spend our younger years. In the dream I was holding a book that she handed to me, and when I went to open it the pages were blank.
Confused, I asked her why these pages were blank and she responded,
"Because our story is not over."
- Droz
Another entry of confusion
I am not here often, but often I am there. Almost daily my thoughts escape me - they take control and take me to a place that exists only in the past....a much simpler time, yet dark, confusing, and lonely as it was. Something about this mental place calms me and I find a comfort in the madness....often revisited, but never relived... I am not purposely speaking in code but it is the only way that I can. The metaphoric rooftops of which I have jumped from - time and time again - without fully landing, just floating before I crash into an abyss of euphoria, nostalgia and memory in the present day. The past remains a lesson. It remains a period of time where it was okay to know that nothing seemed to make sense, but that everything in that moment was as important as it will ever be. The realism, the first times, the temptations and goodbyes. A toxic pattern that would repeat itself over and over for years upon end. I often revisit the nights in which I was unable to sleep. Heartbroken
Had it bad..
Nobody tells you what it will be like when you look back. Sure they may tell you, but nobody TELLS you.
Fortunate are those who did not have the same experiences, both suffering in pleasure, and pleasuring through suffering.
Fortunate are the ones who can go through the experience and come out a stronger person, a well rounded
individual who can build an empire on an experience of a lifetime. A first time can never be replicated or duplicated,
it can only be remembered and never forgotten. Sure, there will be a second and a third, but the first,
that is always in another realm that differs from the rest, like it or not.
The fine detail
Devious Journal Entry
Words. Are they friends? Are they enemies? They record and freeze moments in our life, and once are written can not be undone, however they never die and stand tall through the test of time. I write to write. I write to feel. I write to heal. I write because it's real.
© 2017 - 2024 DannyDrozdov
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