May we all find calm amidst all chaos.
I begin to recall the days I felt the most desperate. I want to be free. I want to not be afraid to think and to feel. I want to scream out that I, too, have something to fight for.
As a home crumbles inside the house, I ran away. I felt that I also abandoned the many memories I have, painting the caverns inside my head with colours I am blind to. I wrote my first poem in the corner with my lap that served as a foundation of my first diary and pen. That is when I began to write about myself and then I run away. I did not think about survival. I just want to run away from what I used to be. For I believe in things I do not know and all the things I know, I have refused to accept and to abide to.
So the fears I have left behind then, I carried them again with me. I forged the ideals I have kept in me with the feelings I only have. Maybe I was wrong, truly wrong but my heart burns with passion, a fire only as strong as I protect.
I continue to fight even if I have never won and all I only count are my losses. It sure is a bizzare way of survival amidst all the chaos inside my head. It is the only way I know. I do not wish to live in fears but what would be left of me if I leave behind that which makes me fight? The fears have always confronted me but not once did I try listening to — to defend myself, to fight for myself, to fight against myself.
As I scribbled these words in this piece of paper where all my thoughts reside, I found myself having bouts of arguments inside my head and a universe was born once again. Hence, I welcome the matters of right and wrong, mending contradictions only I know how. I rather lose than to endlessly run away for there is a home I found where I like to stay.
Diary by Rin
Read 469 times
Written on 2020-02-05 at 13:29
Tags Freedom Writing Home
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Murakumo I
The words that I scribbled in my old notebook years ago that I buried in the deepest cave of my head are being dug up by silence. The oblivion that I used to stare at breaks into pieces like a fragile mirror of a forgotten identity.I begin to recall the days I felt the most desperate. I want to be free. I want to not be afraid to think and to feel. I want to scream out that I, too, have something to fight for.
As a home crumbles inside the house, I ran away. I felt that I also abandoned the many memories I have, painting the caverns inside my head with colours I am blind to. I wrote my first poem in the corner with my lap that served as a foundation of my first diary and pen. That is when I began to write about myself and then I run away. I did not think about survival. I just want to run away from what I used to be. For I believe in things I do not know and all the things I know, I have refused to accept and to abide to.
So the fears I have left behind then, I carried them again with me. I forged the ideals I have kept in me with the feelings I only have. Maybe I was wrong, truly wrong but my heart burns with passion, a fire only as strong as I protect.
I continue to fight even if I have never won and all I only count are my losses. It sure is a bizzare way of survival amidst all the chaos inside my head. It is the only way I know. I do not wish to live in fears but what would be left of me if I leave behind that which makes me fight? The fears have always confronted me but not once did I try listening to — to defend myself, to fight for myself, to fight against myself.
As I scribbled these words in this piece of paper where all my thoughts reside, I found myself having bouts of arguments inside my head and a universe was born once again. Hence, I welcome the matters of right and wrong, mending contradictions only I know how. I rather lose than to endlessly run away for there is a home I found where I like to stay.
Diary by Rin
Read 469 times
Written on 2020-02-05 at 13:29
Tags Freedom Writing Home
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
