Wednesday, November 19, 2008

when everything and everyone becomes my enemy

Rose, Rose, Rose Red
Will I ever see thee wed?
I will marry at thy will, sire
At thy will


Fighting my own will, fighting my hands on the controls, fighting my way through. One more step, one more brush-stroke, one more stitch, one more prim.

On to the next--next idea, next thought, next word, next project. I am ever most creative when I'm avoiding other things.

A thousand years gone by
Too late to wonder why
I'm here alone
If in my darkest hour
She-rose that fell a flower--
I should have known...


One step forward, no steps back. Stagnation better than retreat. Pushing when I can, resting when I can't, taking comfort in the smallest details. I live, I breathe, I keep moving.

It's all I have.

Limbo is burning.

Rose, Rose, Rose Red
Will I ever see thee wed?
Only if you can capture me...


Occupations I do not lack; time is more pressing. Incredible heat at my back drives me forward, even when I'm being called back to the once-grey, once-soft, once-empty. Finding things to do is not the problem.

Tell me no more stories
And I'll tell you no lies
No one wants to hurt me
But everybody tries


Sooner or later I will lose my steps, lose my forward momentum, and then shall I tumble back to the abyss of flame. Impossibility; prophecy; what could never be, is. Adaptation is difficult under such circumstances.

And if you think that I've been waiting
For my planets to align
It's time you go on
Get your things, get up, get out--
I'm doing fine


Until I slip I walk half-dreaming; until I slip I concentrate on anything-but; until I slip I fight sleep, and wait to see blood on my hands.

Someday these walls will speak
The floor beneath you creak
To call my name
Here in my web of dreams
My whispers turn to screams
And place the blame


One step. One step. One step. I will survive, I will get through this, and if I burn, it won't be the first time. I endure. Through everything, I endure.

I'm stubborn that way.

Rose, Rose, Rose Red
Will I ever see thee wed?
Only if you discover me...


My hands weave the air into patterns, sorting, changing, packing, making. Even when I'm relaxing, my mind's busy on a thousand other things. I cannot stop long enough to take a mental breath, not now, not yet.

Tell me no more stories
And I'll tell you no lies
No one wants to hurt me
But everybody tries


Soon enough I will stop, soon enough I will have to, turn and face what's making limbo a hell and not an impatient haven. Soon enough, all too soon, there'll be nothing left to do. Nothing left to make. Nothing left but to brace, for fire and for pain.

And if you think that I've been waiting
For my planets to align
It's time you go on
Get your things, get up, get out--
I'm doing fine
Yeah, yeah...


I make small plans, to roll into larger ones later. How much I have in savings, how long I'll need to pay ahead if I'm not in world. I can't think past that. I can't be past that. One day. One step. One breath. Holding to that, I stand, create, envision.

For this freedom
I have given all I had
For this darkness
I gave my light
For this wisdom
I have lost my innocence
Take my petals
And cover me with the night


I know there are at least twenty days remaining on all properties. In twenty days I'll know which way to turn. And I have options, I am not backed into a corner, claws out, scratching for a chance to break free.

One step. One step. One step. I may be edging towards the corner, but I'm still free to move.

Tell me no more stories
And I'll tell you no lies
No one wants to hurt me
But everybody tries


I will breathe. Every breath brings me closer. I will breathe. Every breath brings more danger. I will breathe. Every breath is one more success, and I am living, I am breathing, I am moving. I am thinking. I will find the right way through.

And if you think that I've been waiting
For my planets to align
It's time you go on
Get your things, get up, get out--
Get out, get out!
I'm doing fine...


Unshaken and shaking, breathing and gasping, pushing away and reaching towards--I am all these things, none of these things. I feel the flare of heat against my back, the sharp sting of nerves close to burning, and I welcome it for the focus it brings and the memories it staves off.

I move here. I step here. Intricate, ornate, as with all I do, all I think, all I choose to express. One step. One breath. One creation. Night after night, hour after hour, minute after minute, while I chase the darkness to dawn.

I endure. I have come through worse. I will get through this.

(Lyrics taken from Emilie Autumn's Rose Red.)

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