From home,....to the underground,...to the coach station.
All in this blur. what is it that makes Victoria coach station so bloody gloomy?
For the place I'm in it's exactly as it should be.This strange place of limbo. Music, there has to be music,I fumble desperately for the headphones.
The silence otherwise is terrifying. Everyone else's conversations seem so deafeningly loud.
All those answers flooding into my brain, demanding movement- one way or the other. I can't trust them. I am not ready for answers. The temptation to take myself into the dark rainy night I watch going by through the window.
All misted and perfect, looming.
"If you stare too long into the abyss..."...
Whatever you fear will eat you up.
I feel it...Seducing me with its melancholy beauty. The night, the dark. I want to let it take me.
I should just let it take me.
Night owl.My Grandmother used to call me; with a proud smile upon her face...when she would find me sat on my bedroom floor in the middle of the night.
The night is all together more beautiful than the day.
For the dark of heart...,the dark of mind...how can it not feel like home, an extension of your own body. In the shadows everything blurs together. In the witching hours I ponder where my heart lies. And admit to it's deceptions.
Always falling for what it can't have in the real world- it settles for dreams, fantasy.
Accepting that what it needs must surely exist only in fiction. That burn it brings- what more could the self destructive maniac want, isn't it poetic? And isn't it just?
Sometimes I need nothingness as I need air. This defect in my heart, makes breaking it impossible.
Wherever the root of it lies matters not. Love is always dangerous.
Somehow, even though I always make myself distant. I seeped into your heart. But find it impossible to allow myself to be immersed within it.
Like breathing under water. Perhaps I was not made this.