Saturday, July 7, 2007

Self-examination

honesty has evaded me for so long
because i have been afraid
to admit truth
to myself.
hiding, always hiding,
from the light
truth is only revealed in hindsight.
head in the clouds,
i have attempted to live tomorrow
as today passes me by.
i thought by living in passion
i could purchase a pass
back to today.
but that plane has flown
and i fear i have destroyed
my landing pad...once so new,
with such potential...
it's been incinerated;
my plane held too much fuel.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Educated Angst

Present in body, absent in mind,
My thoughts fly away when you begin to speak.
Evidence fo a faulty choice on my part?
Multiple choice only made me confused.
Your expectations make me sick;
Can't you see my heart's not here?
Where it resides I haven't learned -
The map's outdated; X marked the spot when I followed a different path.
I live another life now.
My freedom is still fresh and I'm overwhelmed with my free will.
I cannot will myself to commit without my entirety involved.
My heart resides elsewhere;
I do not know where.

Enlightened? Encumbered?

My peers approach science with fervor I lack.
Unsure of my footing; afraid to turn back.
Continued adventures on this path I tread,
Once fueled by intrigue, I fear now it lies dead.
No longer a cat, inquiry lies dormant.
With more hesitation, I'm stuck in cement.
As much as I'd rather delay this big choice,
I must act with haste or sacrifice my voice.

Sketchy sketch

She notes details for no reason. She knows every crack in the sidewalk on the way to the mailbox. She agonizes over the crooked towel bar - the right side three-eighths of an inch higher than the left...levels did exist when this building was constructed, she emphatically insists to the perfectionist greasing the gears in her brain.  She avoids hanging pictures because she's afraid her bad aim will hammer the nail into the way a centimeter away from its intended position - at least on the carpet, paintings line up with the slanted floor.  Her mini-blinds vary in color from just-whitened-teeth white to light, lacy, cream...she keeps them open regularly so the variance is easier to ignore.  She fixes the shower curtain during each shower so that the plastic rings are evenly spaced.  She frets over the fact that the hangers in her closet are mismatched.

Yet her bedroom is a mess.  Her refrigerator houses food past its expiration date.  The top of her dresser isn't visible.  Dust from incense remains on the counter from a week ago.  Her bed is unmade.  Cat litter is scattered across the bathroom floor.  She detests dusting (though she is oddly intrigued with feather dusters themselves).  She deems her frizzy hair worth the convenience of leaving the blow dryer stored away. 

She sees the details.  She manages to overlook imperfection ... because there is so much within herself.

Where to?

Bored.  Too bored to even rack my mind for a synonym.  My English teachers emphatically insisted upon vivid words that promote imagery.  But my major is in the field of science - imagery has no place in homework for my college professors.  The only acceptable imagery is that which takes place in the laboratory - it's termed observation here.  My creativity is hampered in my studies - my linguistic proficiency is diminished by my extended leave of absence from places my heart once called home.  My right brain threatens atrophy.  I cannot focus when my path leads to a life I cannot suffer.  Success and stability await me there but I cannot endure separation of my soul from my body.  Seeking a reunion, I must distance myself from the life I convinced myself to pursue.  I may be too proud to accept handouts but I am not too proud to admit I was mistaken after three years.  It's tough to turn myself around, though.  Where to, soul?