...why even the angels don't give up at all...
So: Restless. Melancholic. Misanthropic. Unmotivated. Enchanted. Burning. Raging, though only in my blood, where it's safe. Anywhere else, and the rage eats me alive. In the blood, it stays on the move, which means it doesn't get a chance to hook in to anything - it can't catch, so it doesn't catch fire.
...even in the darkest places of your mind...
I want the Road under me, the Captain next to me, and nowhere to go ahead of me. I refuse to push this restlessness down, I can't allow myself to refuse feeling it - it's a means to an end I'm craving terribly: self-renewal, self-awareness, self-understanding, self-discovery.
...dare my wild heart...
It's going to take some reconciliation, and not a little bit of work on my side. It means rescinding my willingness to compromise, for the sake of something I never really believed in the first place - subverting my self for a greater good. It's bullcrap, and I can't believe I ever sold myself on it.
I shouldn't be so hard on myself: I was looking for survival. I'm more than surviving now, and I owe it to myself to dig out and dust off that frightened soul and let it go. Before: I was only surviving, only existing, protecting the most precious parts of myself from people who refused to understand, people who honestly couldn't understand. And now: now I'm free of those people. Or maybe I'm not, but it doesn't matter. Maybe that's the key: not letting things matter anymore. I let them matter before, for the sake of breathing. For the sake of learning. For the sake of chance-taking. And now: now I don't have to, won't have to.
I am surrounded by so many soulmates - men and women alike who have that same fire, that same desire, that same ability to hear between the notes, read between the lines, and see through the cracks in the wall. I have nothing to be afraid of - only love and understanding to look forward to. Love and understanding, and perhaps even joy.
...in dark sorrow...
...I did dumb things. Make mistakes. But I know how to confess, admit, and be absolved, and I believe I have been. Now to break those chains: to have regret, yes, but not to let it weigh me down. I'll blame it on my wild heart...and move on. Which is what I should have done in the first place, but I didn't, for whatever reason. But now?
Maybe now I can. Maybe I can forgive myself and move on. Maybe I will.
9.12.2007
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