A family dinner, not quite formal but not casual enough to say fuck and god damn at the table. A girl, tired, stressed... Dropped home by the busy mother and left to figure out her head on her own. What she would find in there, she didn't know. Two simple tasks and 4 hours to complete them in: Make a fucking apple cake and ring the man she's been dying to talk too all day. Simple enough right?

DISTRACTION.

Half a cake made and the phone sitting beside me. Open door, slammed closed. I NEED THE OVEN I NEED THE OVEN, confrontational twitches and not at the best of times... times... what is the time? PANIC PANIC PANIC. The family arrives soon but she is alive enough to feel the need for her nicotine. Just fifteen minutes would be all she needed to get the tears out of her system, fight them back to the depths of whence they came. No crying was allowed. It might take the spot light off... her...
One look in the mirror and she new that her face looked ugly with the smudges of a big night and guilt. That would have to be fixed, clean dress, nice smell, make up... fix this mess she made. Dog starts barking- FUCK FUCK FUCK too late, no phone call... no cigarette.

Family equalling alienation. An old soul not realising just how badly his words are hurting her, as she tries with all her best effort to remain sweet and like the image her name always gave her. Jobless but not pointless! Selfless and trying hard to be behaved, civil, social.
"You owe it to your parents... Getting yourself a respectable career with a job that they can be proud of. When will you study? What will you do?" and once again she pulled out that old dusty black wool she thought she may never adorn again, and felt disgust as she pulled her arms through the sleeves.
She is once again, the fuck up. Once again, that one kid that never quite fit the bill or made the grade... Trying to be interested but so aware of the time. Tick tick tick tick. Soon he would be sleeping sweet dreams, soon she would have lost her chance.

AND THEY STAND! After what seemed like an eternity, they went on their way. The guilty feeling of wanting them to leave was being crushed in her gut by the excitement of that phone call and cigarette. Ring. ring. ring. Ring. ring. ring. Nothing. No answer. ANGRY ANGRY ANGRY ANGRY. She needed that fucking phone call. She needed to hear his sweet voice. She was hurting. She wanted to show him her day, and help reason with him the challenges they faced.

And now, she sits, she contemplates what it means to have someone so close to her-- that the very simple fact that he is peacefully asleep and calm and neutrally happy could have the effect she is feeling now. A mix of the pain that she knows her problems that tower over her will not be shifted, that she faces it alone, that she needs to keep trying, that she needs to be held but with no one to hold her, that she needs to feel and know love in this moment of a guilty conscience and total rejection.

... And all with the bad taste of knowing in her heart that none of this is his fault. That none of this is accountable by him, and that she simply ran out of time, as he ran out of time. Time, that was supposed to be on her side, when at this exact moment in that time- nothing is on her side. THIS is how i FEEL. Not concrete, not cement; so don't let it make you feel heavy. Just know that when I have no other way to get out of the rip-tide, I have to immortalize into the ether of the net. All I wanted, all I needed was to just hear that liquid heaven wash over me one last time... for someone to just listen to what i had to say without being disappointed or disinterested like the rest of this family...

im sorry i didnt catch you in time... and now were both falling through the holes together.

In Freedom and Chains

The times they are a changing... I wake up every day, feeling the pull and tug of life trying to shift the heavy weights on my shoulders. The one thing that I thought was always against me has turned out to be my friend; thankyou time for showing me the healing power of the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks and months that have gone into patching up the fabric and restitching the old, worn edges of my heart.

My heart. I never really understood how it worked or what it meant until I saw his face. I didn't believe that he had any of the answers to my problems in life, but a humble person can admit that they were wrong. How wrong I really was about this man; who stood from the very beginning with arms open and the intent to nourish the joy back into my life... He said he was a man of his word and I instinctively laughed at that, but once again time has shown me how wrong I can be.

I can trust again, love again, laugh and breathe easily again. The horrors that walked these empty halls have no power over the choices I make anymore. I have someone I can rely on, whose version of love is more than mere words. We will move the sky together and shake the very foundations of this planet; not just sit around getting high pretending that we even give enough of a shit to try. It's not a lie, it's not a dependancy... It's perfection, and it's not relying on drugs to keep it alive.

Thankyou God and Void alike for both showing me the true potential of myself, thankyou for that glorious split second of giving up on love; because it was during that moment where I wasn't even looking for it that I found it in him, and over such a great distance and from such a dark place we have planted the seeds of companionship within our hearts and allowed this great, passionate flame to burst them open and watch them grow. As we will watch our lives grow, entwining our fates and bodies as one.
I am not afraid of what it means to let this person into my heart and life, I am not afraid of what gripped me for so long... David has slain the Goliath in my life... And there's no looking back now.

No looking back on that crooked, cold house with those crooked, cold people. A certain vulgar, derelict potency to every character who walked in and out, in and out, day after day. An embarrassment, a chore, a boring fascade of walking, talking shit houses. All speaking of freedom whilst their hands were cast in chains. All being commanded and paraded around by a fantasy creature of lion and bird with a taste for expensive poverty and false intentions...
Never again will I walk within that life, nor give that life a chance. I have finally found what I have been waiting for: To love, and to be loved in return; as all that I am, unconditionally and without the want to change or be changed... I no longer live within that prison.