dreamtrance (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dreamtrance) wrote2002-09-19 10:21 am
dreamtrance) wrote2002-09-19 10:21 am
thank you
it's the next morning *sigh*
this is going to be fairly cryptic but I can't help it. sorry.
Those of you that know me know that I'm a very secretive person. I don't like to talk about what goes on in my head and I don't get into when things are bothering me or the shit from my past. I've talked to some of you about bits and pieces so some of you understand more than others.
last night I kind of had a breakdown of sorts. no one witnessed it but a couple of you saw the aftermath.
I'm sorry to those of you who would have/wanted to help but really there was nothing to do.
Steph - I think I was actually asleep by the time you got online. sorry about that but thank you.
Mel - I'm sorry I didnt say something to you last night honey, it just wouldnt have mattered.
Catherine - I don't know what I told you or even if I told you anything but thank you for just being there.
Ang - thank you for everything.
and Everyone else. I may not have listed your name but honestly you all mean a lot to me. I think in the course of the night last night it was thinking about the friends I've made and the ones I have yet to make that made me smile and helped me to let go. Thank you all for just being who you are.
I wrote this last night and it was locked for various reasons. Now I'm sharing it with everyone.
--
tick tock tick tock
He sat there head on his arms the only light the glow from the monitor. It hurt. Hurt to write. But he had to. He had to tell the story that haunted him day and night. The story that infiltrated his conscious and his subconscious; his dreams and his daydreams. The story that to him, wasn't just a story. it was his life.
He had to get it out so he sat fingers poised above the keys. Sometimes moving so swiftly it was hard to tell he was even pushing keys instead of just gliding over them. Sometimes just hovering, waiting. Waiting for the words to come.
Sometimes the words flowed freely letting him spill every thought and emotion onto the vast white screen. Sometimes they flowed faster than his thoughts could keep up and he wrote without thinking. Thats when he did his best writing.
Sometimes the words wouldn't come. He would sit and stare at the blank screen willing it to give him what he needed to make the words come. Wishing he could take everything bottled up inside of him and let it out in the only way he knew how.
Tonight there were no words. Tonight as he sat, head tucked into his arms something else flowed. Tonight it was tears. He had never cried. Through it all his eyes stayed dry. Even after. For over 4 years after he didn't cry, wouldn't let himself.
But tonight he cries.
this is going to be fairly cryptic but I can't help it. sorry.
Those of you that know me know that I'm a very secretive person. I don't like to talk about what goes on in my head and I don't get into when things are bothering me or the shit from my past. I've talked to some of you about bits and pieces so some of you understand more than others.
last night I kind of had a breakdown of sorts. no one witnessed it but a couple of you saw the aftermath.
I'm sorry to those of you who would have/wanted to help but really there was nothing to do.
Steph - I think I was actually asleep by the time you got online. sorry about that but thank you.
Mel - I'm sorry I didnt say something to you last night honey, it just wouldnt have mattered.
Catherine - I don't know what I told you or even if I told you anything but thank you for just being there.
Ang - thank you for everything.
and Everyone else. I may not have listed your name but honestly you all mean a lot to me. I think in the course of the night last night it was thinking about the friends I've made and the ones I have yet to make that made me smile and helped me to let go. Thank you all for just being who you are.
I wrote this last night and it was locked for various reasons. Now I'm sharing it with everyone.
--
tick tock tick tock
He sat there head on his arms the only light the glow from the monitor. It hurt. Hurt to write. But he had to. He had to tell the story that haunted him day and night. The story that infiltrated his conscious and his subconscious; his dreams and his daydreams. The story that to him, wasn't just a story. it was his life.
He had to get it out so he sat fingers poised above the keys. Sometimes moving so swiftly it was hard to tell he was even pushing keys instead of just gliding over them. Sometimes just hovering, waiting. Waiting for the words to come.
Sometimes the words flowed freely letting him spill every thought and emotion onto the vast white screen. Sometimes they flowed faster than his thoughts could keep up and he wrote without thinking. Thats when he did his best writing.
Sometimes the words wouldn't come. He would sit and stare at the blank screen willing it to give him what he needed to make the words come. Wishing he could take everything bottled up inside of him and let it out in the only way he knew how.
Tonight there were no words. Tonight as he sat, head tucked into his arms something else flowed. Tonight it was tears. He had never cried. Through it all his eyes stayed dry. Even after. For over 4 years after he didn't cry, wouldn't let himself.
But tonight he cries.