10,000 needles

[journal entry]



intuition. it's a funny thing you know. Empirical in nature, unexplainable in the beginning, yet conceived by the collective fibre of logical and experiential threads that make us, well - us. it's there. and i hate it. because it's the most accurate definition to describe what i feel now, which in turn, is triggering the muse in me that used to surface by will - and the same one i left out there to die.

things seem so messy now. and i can't explain it. although i have a strong feeling i know the source of where it's coming from - what i'm doing and where i'm heading in my life, and probably my insecurities in my relationship. i believe that no matter how dark a person's world may be, he or she could choose to rise above it and remain untainted, an ordinary miracle that a being could come out unscathed, if they wanted it badly enough. the truth is, i can't seem to think of any reason why i should hold on to that ideal - or maybe it's that underlying void that keeps spreading like a sick, slow, fucking poison, enjoying each and every vessel it feeds on. Maybe this is how chewbacca feels, that no matter how badly he needs to let it out (and does), nobody would ever understand his language, except maybe one person out there - the only link to a sense of belonging we can seek refuge from the countless pitchforks that make up this world most of us have ever known.

nobody really wants to move mountains, even if they could. not me anyway. right now, i just need a sign. that i'm doing the right thing, that i'm heading the right way. i tend to avoid posting such things here. to hide behind a shield of open interpretation: one that has ways to appear innocent. i want to walk with sure steps again. there, i've said it. so much for not hiding.