By darwin
Date: 2005 Aug 08
Comment on this Work
[[2005.08.08.16.15.20868]]

always a beginning

most days i feel that i am just winging it.  that it's nothing more then a fools try.  i can hear the conversations, i can see the lips moving, and i can add the two cents when need, but it all feels a dream.  maybe it's because i am self conscious.  but that's not it.  i feel like that all the time, like i'm not quite hearing what is being said.  and that what i am saying  is in some other language then my own.  and somewhere it's lost in translation.  it's isolating.  and it's lonely.  and i often feel lost in my own thoughts, and i want to find a place to hide away.  though this is sometimes broken in periods of ecstasy.  moments where i feel lost in ethustiastic bliss.  most often when i find him next to me, and i don't feel that tension to speak, that tension to be heard or to hear.  and often when i find his hands closing in around my fingers, and his warmth creates circuits direct to all my senses.  i'm just a fool in a play the rest of the time.  a fools bid.