Sometimes and Somehow

Sometimes you need to sit back and take a break. Sometimes you just can't carry on or go any further without a goodnight's rest or a break to just relax. We all have those times where we feel like we're dreaming... we float through the day, not quite understanding what's going on or where we are or why it's happening or when it will end. You just sort of move by some spirit's hand; all you know is that you're not the one who's moving through the day. You're not really numb, but you could be better. You're on the verge of crying, but your eyes tease you and water and put themselves back to sleep.Sometimes (how I was today) you are on the verge of puking but you silently suffer while nothing comes out. And somehow you know it's not your fault. You are not the reason that you're so upset this time around. Because the world is just stuck in a messed up place, and you are not the one that put it there.

Questioning Authority

I don't know how to interact with people. Interact. What a funny word. People seem like more of a pain than what they are worth. No one wants pain but without pain no one could be happy. Like in school... who is truly happy? People and pain and school. How do people come up with the worst combinations ever? Like home. Everybody loves to have a home. But some dumbass decided to hyphenate the word work at the end and then bam! Homework now exists. You take something enjoyable, add a sprinkle of something else, and then once again, running away no longer seems like such a bad idea. And maybe it's really not, I mean, you won't know unless you go, right? Or maybe left...ha. Who came up with those words? If you're facing each other then it's backwards and then your head wants to explode and who the hell came up with directions? They bring order but with their order comes so much chaos.  Someone says left and you know what they mean, yet your hand refuses to point in the right direction anyway. PLus what if left is really right? Not directional wise, but correct? Left could be right instead of right, right? Technically anything is possible. The only reason we are accepting of things is because society forced that crap on our throats. Everything you've known could be an illusion. You have the choice not to believe them, and maybe you don't, but you decide to keep your mouth shut anyway. You decide this because the people are in control, not the government, and you've heard of the way people get locked up because they are labeled "crazy." And you're a psychopath, but you've chosen to blend in so there's no chance of suspicion.

Warm Shell, Cold Heart

I want to enfold you in my arms and keep you safe. But it's not so much you as I need safety myself. When I reach for you, you become so far, and yet you grasp my hand so close. Our hearts could connect but if only the castle around mine could be free. If only it didn't have a dreary fog and snaking vines wound around the heavy air.  My heart sags and seams pop when your image appears in my head. I remember your blue eyes, so vibrant, even when tears attempt to drown them. I remember your smile, quirky and tugging at the corners of my own lips. But yet I stay oh so sad. I remain trying to understand the mystery of how happiness could bring so much sadness at the expense of smiles combining with tears. I want to enfold you in my arms and melt into you so we will protect each other. Your memory sears into my head until your arms have the chance to sear into my sides every evening. To make me feel enclosed and safe but cold and alone like the heavy stone that drops into my stomach. Moss covered and looking for light to warm up. The golden rays of your blonde hair warming only the water in my eyes.

Dreaming of gold

The thing about dreams is you never know where they're going to take you. You can't tell where they'll begin, or where they'll end, IF they ever do end. The swirls of colors; the swirls of yearning dancing behind your eyelids waiting to be revealed as you wake up the next day. Maybe there's a reason we don't remember our dreams, and maybe there's a reason we do. Dreams are the doorway to psychology. Dreams are the only way the world can truly speak to your soul. I believe the only way you may understand and figure things out is through dreaming.

Pot of Gold

By: Dianna Vermillion

Together we chased after the rainbow

to find the pot of gold; but in each other,

we found our own treasure to unfold.

Right Time

Her stomach quivered with anxiety. She aimed all of her focus at her rubbery legs to keep from tripping over her own feet, but the hesitation in her step remained painfully obvious.  She swore her forehead was glistening with drops of sweat, but every time she brought her up to her forehead there was nothing. She felt the gravel giving and then crunching under her shoes. The grey dust stained her toes as she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Once again, the awkward silence had risen from it's grave. Besides the occasional car that drove past, it was so quiet she almost forgot they were walking side by side. Almost. It felt like a dream; a moment frozen in time; although the gravel stained his shoes just as real as it stained hers. She couldn't avoid it forever, no matter how damn good at it she was. She knew she could say no and walk out, but it didn't feel right. She had known this was coming and she had made her decision. For once in her life, her heart and mind were agreeing, even if it was with some hesitance.


"It's desperately sad, that this character who deserves so much, ends up with nothing again."

                   --David Tennant

The Dream of Reality

Dreams are always an extreme. Dreams can imprison you in your own mind. Encased in the folds of your thought process; either dancing on water or swimming through the depths of hell. Exploring your mind could be a ship getting pulled under by a kracken. Maybe you can sing. Or maybe your heart is upside down; it's screwed up but it still keeps you breathing. Or maybe a pair of eyes placed backwards. You may only ever see your head, but at least you can see at all. Dreams can carry fears. Fears are the unknown. Our dreams may scare us because they are a carrier of the unknown. They infect us with an idea and suddenly everyone runs, screaming. Our dreams could be controlling or our dreams could be releasing. Our dreams may eat us alive or spit us out. Maybe we are dreams, or maybe we are our own dreams.

"Your dream doesn't have an expiration date. Take a deep breathe, and try again."
    --Unknown

My mark

I'm not perfect. I will never be perfect. But I don't want to be perfect. While everyone else walks in white, I leave footprints in black. The smallest difference; a small drop of colored paint in a world sketched in gray scale. So while everyone else walks in white, I leave footprints in black. My footprints.

"somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue, and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true."
        --Lyman Frank Baum