Il ya une image dans mon esprit, le froid et beau, de grand à l'état sauvage mais doux en action. Ici, dans le soleil, l'image se développe. Ici, maintenant, j'attends vos yeux.

With the elegance and urgency of the cities final lights, the eloquent death that radiates tenaciously as the last flash of light fades, my eyes reach for the sky. Meandering with a fervency unmatched by the throes of the lonely souls once inhabited by this town, my eyes race through the clouds, hoping to find nothing more, nothing less than a hopeful glimpse of the gray fates that are shared for us.

French again
J'essaie d'appeler votre nom, mais dans l'obscurité bruyante mes mots seulement échouent.

Tonight, following suit with many nights that have preceded it, I cannot help but melt with the realization that I, simply, am not. I don't know exactly what this means per se, yet it is with unabashed honesty that I can make this statement. As it stands I find myself in a myriad of enigmatic and frightening situations that are, somehow, putting my life into perspective. At times in my life it had been common knowledge to every part of myself that no matter how hard that I would try happiness would stand as some unattainable goal. Now, though still just out of reach, I feel that I am making progress towards finding out what would make me happy, putting a face to it one might say.

Along these same lines, though at times almost completely independent, there have been times and events as of late that I really defined who I am as a person which only begs the question of most simply put, why? I thought I knew what kind of person I was in high school, or better yet, I had a vague idea. I had a few close friends who I would do anything for, I wasn't concerned with what people thought of me outside these friends, and I liked to consider myself a good person with good intentions. Then senior year happened and I was wrought with grief, pain, and confusion the likes of which had seemed to be previously unheard of among the human race. Mistaking my location as the source of this problem I moved, far away from Rhode Island and all of the bad memories associated with it. This, suffice to say, did not help. I merely found myself confused and in pain in another state in which I had no form solace.

Fate intervened and brought me back to the place where all of the confusion began. Now, I am living with my brother and still going to school. Though with 3 jobs and full time school I can't escape my thoughts, no matter how occupied with something else I am. This isn't necessarily a bad thing as I've been able to figure a lot about myself through not sleeping and chain smoking like an idiot.

Sparing details, I find myself doing something big for a girl I barely know, getting an apartment with her because of having precious few options or places left to turn. I do have feelings for this girl, yet those are completely independent of this situation. I cannot, of my own volition or in good conscience, stand by and watch someone struggle. This may backfire on me, I may be left with very little, go unappreciated, or completely forgotten about (all of these very real outcomes I have had the immense displeasure facing in my life), but I feel something inside of me, I hear a voice that tells me that I can't let someone go without help. I may be a fool for doing this, but I would be a heartless fool if I don't. This, being the most prevalent situation in which I have figured out a good deal about myself, has given me a sort of clarity of my feelings and as to what kind of person I really might be.

I realize now that this is the first time I have the opportunity to have something in my life that will make me happy and have proactively, up to this point at least, stopped it from slipping through my fingers so easily. This is something that has never happened before in my life and as such I have started to question what type of person I am becoming. The one thing that has remained constant up to this point is that I am used to having to push my feelings down and suck them up for some sort of better cause, in my mind at least. I'm ok with this to say the least, but I can't help but wonder if this time will yield similar results as every time before, or if somehow I will find karmic justice. Not to say that every horrible event in my life was unjust, but rather, I think I've earned it this time. That statement alone brings forth an amassing force of questions armed to the teeth, ready to make my veins weep the answers they so desire.

I don't know why life is the way it is, I cannot begin to imagine anyone does. All I can offer is a cliche string of sentences that most obviously have been stated before.

What makes us change? How do we define, if we ever can, who we are? At one point in time I believed that you changed yourself. I believed that there was some sort of instant clarity, a sudden realization that resonates so sonorously the very earth might shake if not contained within oneself. That has changed, vastly to say the least. I can't say for sure that clear moment isn't a part of what would happen, nor can I say that this moment does or does not happen for anyone. I guess what I'm getting at is that now I believe that we ourselves are the catalyst for change. We live to define who we are, in the most existential of terms, and as such we are the sole purpose in finding meaning in our lives. Yet this still leaves me unfulfilled, if for no other reason than it is too open ended. It is a mix of these, perhaps, our situations and inner mental workings, but even with this synergistic view I cannot help but be dissatisfied. I don't think we, in all our or glorious ignorance, can accurately pinpoint what or why or when it is that these changes occur, nor do I believe that we should try. The wonder found in these changes is that we cannot stop them, that they are persistent and unyielding, dangerous and fearful, beautiful in every form.

Learn French if you want to know what this means...
La fumée ondoyante a refusé par mes poumons danses avec l'air glacial devenir une ombre de beauté inconnue

EVEN MORE Untitled
This cool air, crisp, coalesces with this smoke, toxic, in my lungs. I exhale slowly, but with infinite purpose. Tiny droplets of rain are born into life high above me, only to crash to their deaths on my skin. This meddlesome mix of worry and longing pleads with caution, knowing fast the implications of its reasoning. Through the simple beauty of these windows, of the sweetest chocolate tinted glass, I cannot watch this struggle, cannot, of my own volition, stand inactive, doing nothing to stop this disheartening fight. I will, endlessly and having chosen a side, give reason to persist. I will not falter, I will not give up. For in this fight, though through different eyes times before, I cannot allow myself. Not ever.

More Untitled
This early morning sun, kissing the tree tops on the distant horizon, stills the earth as it opens its eyes from a bitter frost with beauty, simple and daunting.

In mind and body, I am strong, yet a myriad of emotions act as a noxious agent, hell bent on the destruction of anything real. I have left nothing for myself, in a stupor divulged the secrets that will either breathe life into, or take it from the one bit of relief found in this discomforting existence. Her eyes, without answer, can fault my armor. Her eyes alone.

Posting stuff
I haven't posted anything in a while, so here is a string of things I have written since my last post. Enjoy?

It's in French...
Il paraît que,  avec aucuns mots incertains, je sera rendu impuissant par tes yeuxs.


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