Friday, November 20, 2009
It is that time again. There comes a time in a person's life, a time in the night, when we look back on the decisions we have made, wondering if we have got it right or wrong; When we think of the secrets we've been keeping from the people around us, and how terribly shocked they would be if they were to find out.
When the hour comes, the loneliest hour, or a moment which one can cling to, to escape this harsh reality; when it seems too late to go to sleep, yet too early to be awake. A time when people are bound by the same, a common feeling of hopelessness. When one knows and even feels what it is like to want to die; how it hurts to smile; how we hurt ourselves on the outside to try to kill the thing on the inside.
What do we tell ourselves then? What do we keep hidden from others? No one knows I've done something wrong; no one knows I've lost my last real friend. Imagine the isolation; seeing the world as through a window or glass, on one side all the happy untroubled people, and on the other side you...
The hour will come, the hour between early morning and dawn, between the moon and sun, and when it passes, we wait for the next hour to come.
fire and ice clashed at [10:25 AM]