Friday, October 1, 2010
times slows, dreams waver, nightmares prosper, and the boogey man beneath my bed never dies. this sweat, this grit does not show for anything i've done in my short life. once the haziness dulls, ideas and clearminded thoughts thrive within my young beating heart, but will there be someone here to listen? tired days and long nights seem to leave me with either raw creativity or terrifying images. i am more than what i've been perceived to be, i realized suddenly as an rush of adrenaline crawls up my back. it's time for action, it's time for day, for night is no longer my friend, for night is no longer my escape. the unhealthy heat and wild fight vanishes and leaves me cold but reassured of my decision to think for myself and of myself and the bigger picture. but will the boogey man understand though i am sure he is relentless. i see his claws. i see his phony sincerity. would he understand? we are the future but the future can come at any price. but also realize it is dangerous to be us for who knows who or what lurks in the darkness, in the night we've grown so deeply fond of. night and time seem faulty and unreliable but dreams seem stronger, i thought as the stonehearted boogey man dies a thousand times.