Gloom

Dear Diary,

The moon is showing off and the clouds are social distancing too across this untamed blue yonder. The stars are sitting pretty spread all over the night sky and a thought of balancing my bony ass on one as I drool at the view of the birds crosses my mind.

Regardless of my fear of heights. I'd grow a pair of wings just for that if I could. How I am a part of this beautiful night gotta be a blessing. Don't you think?

Oddly, dark depressing thoughts have gathered themselves like a spiritual dark cloud threatening to leak through the cracks of my sweating soul. Emotional warfare has taken away the inner peace that existed here.

There is a door tightly closed from the inside that I can't move away from. One which has my essence bewitched and feet glued to a rare wildflower now working its way back within the walls of where the door that leads wherever it is that I am no longer welcome to explore.

Uncertainty is settling here.

My eyes can't help but tear through the unrealistic memories captured here. Disbelief has long found a home here. Away from here, half of my dreams are taking a ship to sail away to a place I don't know. I can feel profound emptiness filling the where they lived wild and free.

Should I bleed more?

I wonder.

My pens hold the secrets to a history packed away in my future. And even the season of gloom can nurture occasional smiles if distraction is engaged.

And distraction is there.

Ain't the night sky one? Walks are slowly becoming even more longer. There is something about being out there in the world that reminds me that I am a part of a bigger race. Gradually breathing life back here. Stitching the what has been floating around as the thought of solitude currently is unpleasant.

Pain would flood here.

Music would be another distraction too but currently I can't stand my playlist. Actually, I can't stand any music at the moment. Everything I don't intend on feeling is tied to this healing magic. Locked away in the melodies I used to enjoy. Talk about relying on recorded rain sounds for sanity.

But still distractions are there.

I can hear books reminding me of their wealth of escape routes. Papers and ink can be felt persuading me to take a look in between some rather traumatic episodes of mentally chasing down the unknown.

Soon. Or never. Everything will fade away into the then. Time will integrate with fate and find a way to unglue my feet at the door I can't seem to move away from. Scars will then emerge. Hopefully.

For now, I can't really tell when that happens. If it ever happens. This will be a difficult lesson. It has been a difficult one.

See you soon...