Posts tagged with "night"

Bittersweet Paradox

bit­ing keeps your words at bay
tend­ing to the sores that stay
hap­pi­ness is just a gash away
when i open a famil­iar scar
pain goes shoot­ing like a star
com­fort has­n’t failed to fol­low so far

and you might say it’s self-indul­gent
and you might say it’s self-destruc­tive
but, you see, it’s more pro­duc­tive
than if i were to be hap­py

—The Dresden Dolls, Bad Habit

I was jit­tery and ner­vous all day.

Several new devel­op­ments have left me with a lack of res­o­lu­tion. People to meet, presents to give, pic­tures to take, respon­si­bil­i­ties to ful­fill. And as much as I try not to think about it, it’s in my nature to do so.

I still haven’t got­ten passed this feel­ing. Still don’t know if I want to. Still don’t even know what it is. All I know is that it’s mak­ing me man­ic.

Until I fig­ure it out, I’ll wal­low in it.

I can only write this at night. When I’m falling asleep and off my guard, sit­ting on my chaise, with the cur­tains drawn and the win­dow open to the win­ter air.

Now I feel like writ­ing, but I don’t even know what to say. Everything’s too jum­bled for me to decide whether I’m hap­py or sad. Maybe it’s both, maybe it’s one because of the oth­er. Life, at the moment, is so bit­ter­sweet.

Wonderfully bit­ter­sweet, that’s what it is.

Empty Nights, Waiting for a Realization

I’ve done the math enough to know the dan­gers of our sec­ond guess­ing
Doomed to crum­ble unless we grow, and strength­en our com­mu­ni­ca­tion

—Tool, Schism

I sup­pose I feel it most when you’re not around. Empty nights, when it’s been anoth­er day with­out con­tact.

Part of me miss­es talk­ing to you, but part of me does­n’t feel like it just yet. It’s a con­tra­dic­tion I can’t explain. Not that it mat­ters any­way.

You’re not stub­born. You’re not lazy.

You just don’t get it.

When The Night Hides Nothing

Even before get­ting in bed, I knew that I would­n’t be able to sleep because of this. I knew that as soon as I woke up to roll over, I would­n’t stop think­ing, won­der­ing about the sit­u­a­tion I’m in.

Somewhere in my mind I want to run away again, sim­ply because it would be the eas­i­est thing to do. Fortunately, I know bet­ter, and real­ize that I have to face up to the deci­sions I make, as well as the con­se­quences that result.

I can’t tell if the hard­est part is not know­ing or not assum­ing.