Falling Apart

When we look deeply at falling in love, we find so many story lines streaming at how you arrive at a single point -- in love.  Twists keep good company on an ever present adventure.  An urge pulls you straight on.  Trepidation gives way.  We find ourselves arriving somewhere -- a newfound bottom resonance.  Whether you're a fighter, or a lover, you have met a match, for at least a moment  lighthearted and carefree.  


But falling apart?  That phrase invokes horror scenes of space shuttles.  The worst trails just keep drifting, shrapnel hurtling -- in this case -- right for your ethereal heart.  Tearing at wounds. Reopening healing for a later date.  Pixel burnt images dancing around.  You are soon possessed with an undeniable urge to run, recoil, and relive all at once -- a twisted marionette.  Every single direction, but apart is the space you must find.   You can't get over apart; you must fall instead towards acceptance.  It hurts just as much as denial, but without that pathetic haze.  


Failure must lie with acceptance.  In truth, in reality, falling apart is as natural as falling in love, but hell how it feels unnecessary.  Treading the same beaten path, bristled pine cones, again.  Then, like a shot, emotion of any kind lends understanding to the reasoning of this restless walk; however, until you get there, acceptance, you're like that fighter above, only alone with no great prize.  


Take control of the line -- let space become solace.  Find yourself again truing friends, erecting projects.  Bleed out your shyness, and you will be right where you were all along -- apart.

Politics and Prose

The problem is that we both need more than four years ...
to get to where we want to be,
and the problem is that we only get four or so years to get there.

You don't hear us like we hear you.

And even though we both want to get there together, we both want the same thing, the way we get there is forever different.  We are both playing a losing game with a belief that we are somehow winning.

When we pay for the earth ... and fight for the right ... and forget what we've gained ...and  the stone stops skipping ... and the ripples' waves reach the edge ... begin to bounce back -- we'll be connected, ready to try again.

How deep do your pockets fall with cosmic weight that you need to get something back from the system that you now control?  When and what do you give in?