(c) original content ---------------------- I’m walking through this fog; the endless swirl of stars and lives, trying to find the way back. A beacon, of light; hope. Drowsily, go towards the light, follow it back… Pencil in hand, slowly dragging across the paper; trying to remember, capture, a piece of your essence.. sigh its not the same its not you try again, start a new one.. Gradually finishing previous ones, piles and piles of unfinished work. But this fog is heavy; damp, weighing and every few paces I’m resting on my knees. breathe..relax.. okay, get up again.. dragging across the paper, the pencil moves Its you, but not I can’t focus through the fog, my mind is on loop, recalling your touch, your voice, your smell you I sigh; I start a new one.. Focusing now; sit down; Get some work done! This fog is something that comes and goes as it pleases, keep moving forward, keep pressing onward.. its almost done, but now I’m rushing; I just want it done, why can’t it be done have to be patient..no I Want to be patient.. better results, the more detail, the more love and care, in each stroke of the brush. but the weariness grows, and now my heart thumps, and it feels like the end of the worl- Done! thank god.. but…. the stress can be seen on the finishing lines.. traversing from care to rushed anxiety; dread. ..maybe I should just start a new one..
Posted on: Tue, 27 Jan 2015 00:04:59 +0000
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