Profilo di marilynMaya's illusions of real...FotoBlogElenchiAltro  |  Strumenti Guida |
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05 aprile invisibleI'm a feet in the grass kind of girl. A wind in your hair, sunshine on your skin kind of girl. I'm a people watcher, a wonderer. I wonder who you are and what you've done. How did you get here and where are you going? I wonder if you look at me and wonder? I wonder if you see me at all? I'm a feet in the grass, wind in my hair, sun on my skin kind of girl and I wonder if anyone cares? Should I be someone other than who I am, would you see me then? PersonalsLonely recluse seeks contact with the outside world.
After many interesting and sometimes hairy adventures,
she finds herself too independent and prone to navel gazing.
Regularly to be found communing with her computer, in the creation of fantasy realms and alternate personalities,
she tends to forget that an actual world with real people exists beyond. It is only when she pauses- to take a breath, to admire the beauty outside her window- that she realises she is too alone in the world, that while her pc and her characters are absorbing they are no substitute for friendship and emotional interaction. procrastinationProcrastination is the enemy.
It lurks at the starting gate and trips you up, vicious and unsymapthetic to your dreams.
'I'll just get this out of the way and I can focus on this thing I want to do.'
And it slips in while you're not paying attention and steals all the minutes and hours away.
You look at the clock and wonder where that hour went- what did you achieve?
What have you got to show for it?
Another hour that you're not going to get back, used up and discarded thoughtlessly.
Maybe I should just stop procrastinating. 06 marzo freedomLove will set you free.
A beautiful romantic adage that’s nothing more than a seductive fiction. Narciccism seems more apt to set you free-
flitting through your own world,unfettered and unaffected, choices moving no other. Love binds us, keeps us tethered to the one we’ve given our heart to, curbs the impulses and desires which would tear us from them, halts our individuality lest it should offend and cause rejection. Compromise and sacrifice; such are the shackles of love. A beautiful, secure cage that stays our flight into the unknown, and keeps us from singeing our wings in stormy skies. 05 marzo Mute ProtestSilent enclosure
I feel it's stricture
holding me in~ harsh limits of obligation stifling in its expectation, the ardour of my spirit Restless stirrings nudge the lid admit a chink of light~ piercing my darkness, a moment of hope illumed, a taste of narcissitic indulgence, a breath of freedom consumed Excluded swiftly the glimmer too brief
my ashen muse lies unstirred~
slow embers crouch impassive
the fire of creation smothered,
inspiration breathless in the vacuum of tedium Infinite constraint
the barriers of conformity~
duty, need, love, security
close the lid back down, censor me. Elusive wit,
creative liberty~ none are mine monochrome reality. |
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