Stop living inside your head: posing pious while secretly loathing.
As much as you may wish it were so life isn't played out in Victorian lace and poised, stunning witticisms.
Life is a beautiful vision, but it is meant to be breathed in, and tasted; not placed in a drive, registered and predictably played out.
See mud? Walk in it. Your shoes will get dirty. Put your hand in; feel it. The cool squelch, how it grits under your fingernails, the way it is real and makes your senses quiver.
Don't live your love inside your head until its idealistic fantasies have worn you to frustration – desperate and searching – abandoned you for a more responsive audience; one who would grant freedom.
How can you say something of which you're not sure? Do you speak it to make it real? Do you know what is real?
1 comment:
subconsciously I must've been turning this post over in my head when I thought of how to begin my blog. I didn't post what I thought up, because you have already said it.
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