A Voice from the Void
Well its been about three years but I've returned. All that flash of MySpace finally got to me, too many prying eyes of the wrong kinds, too much confusion and not enough honesty. Maybe this time it will be different yes?
So i had a dream last night. It was interesting. What was it? There was a beautiful house, made of glass and stell with an indoor pool. It was next to a highway inside some major metropolitain city. Inside was an older gentlman with strange eyes, eyes like midnight. He seemed nice enough, I jumped out of a moving car to sneek into the house to see him. I pretended to knock on the door and he told me to come back in anyway. I did and we talked about something for hours, he told me things that changed my mind about everything, though I cannot remember the words. Then some men came, presumably a gang, and he sent me and his two servant girls away. The girls were young and beautiful but kind and nice. Inside the gang killed him. I saw myself in the dream as two people. I was one of the girls, a young African American girl and his death made me sad, then i was also myself and I was furious. I went back inside and killed three of the four men, the fourth was different. He was stronger, bigger. We fought for a bit with neither of us gaining the upper hand. Finally, enraged, I grabbed his collar and pulled him close. I looked into his eyes and saw another being within, something altogether alien. I warned him and others of his kind to leave us all be, to leave our world and never return. He did and I sensed that others of his kind left too. Then I was the girl again and I knew that thinks were ok now. I told the girl I was with too stay. She said she had to go, another girl came out and asked her to stay too. I saw them talking and there was a distinct attraction between them, my friend smiled and shyly agreed to stay. That was the end of it. It was strange, not a nightmare but more just an odd dream. Meaning perhaps? I dunno.
So I would assume that if your here reading this now its because of 1 of 2 things. Either you know me or you happened across this page somehow. If you just happened across this than feel free to stay and look around but know that I'm not here to please you, only to be honest with myself and reflect on ideas. On occasion there may be a hidden message meant to convey something or maybe its a message to someone but for the most part everything here is merely a conglomaration of things on my mind. The old posts are still here and your welcome to read them, but they are just that, old. Things have changed, illusions broken, life situations modified, and the world a new place in many ways.
Those things said, Im glad to have this page back. Not everything worked out the way I had so hoped it would have the last time I was here. As there has always been there are two parts to me, one part of me is glad to be alive and grateful for every day that I live. The other side is wounded, bleeding profusely from the chest, and losing strength with every step. I feel a coldness returning to me in a lot of ways, a numbness thats all too familiar. What caused this? Well it wouldnt be fair to blame it on one person. In truth its as much my fault as anyone elses. I allowed myself to be blinded by false hope and emotion, I failed to guard myself well enough and I fell prey to my own illusions, and I was almost consumed by them. My quest, my hope was fruitless and there was never any real chance from the moment I started down that road, the best I could have hoped for pales in comparison to what I truly wanted. But that, dear friends, is the nature of emotion, the nature of love itself. I've always said that love is neither good nor bad, that love is not a force of pure good. Love can hurt as much as it can heal and grow. Somehow I'm grateful for the experience, even if nothing came of it exactly I still got to touch love and it was truth, I was honest with myself in that moment more than I ever had been before or since. That moment was both miraculous and terrible, there was much pain in that moment and I could hardly bear the weight of it. The next day was one of fuming peace, the eye of the storm. I was allowed, for one day to be completely numb and at the same time I watched from behind this shield of numbness, I watched myself walking and talking with a friend that I couldnt feel more for and yet a part of me was furious at. What would come after that day was bad too, and things will never be the same. Now I look at those memories, like looking at pictures in a gallery. Im fond of them but I know that I cant go back to them, they live only in my mind and its there and there alone that I still remember what it felt like to think that there was still a hope, still a chance. There is a nostalgic sadness that I feel now, and even that is not lasting because I feel the coldness, the numbness returing. I'll hold out for as long as I can.















