Kiss the rain is playing in my head, with the big drum beat in my ear matching it's beat. As the lyrics and the music calm my soul, I ponder the drum beat and it's signifigance, it's uses, it's constant steadiness in my exsistance. It's louder when I'm stressed, drumming harder and harder to create a barrier between everything else and me. It protects me.
The drumbeat seems to have always been there, as if it's been a part of me from the begining of time.
Didn't push. Should have pushed. Should have fought. Should have called and forced them to see. But I didn't and now I can feel the effects of waiting. I can feel the slow decay in the blood. I can feel the sluggish hunger mixed with a distinct dislike of anything resembling food. I can feel the weakness and apathy, the burning madness that ends in tears I don't know why I'm shedding. I should have pushed. I should have made them see.
Prevention is all there is at this stage, it's the only thing I can do and if I don't. . .
Thursday, May 19, 2005