Written: January 2nd, 2011
Why do I short hand when the rest of the page is blank. Have I nothing to say, or inability to grasp readers to heed my lyrics. Midnight, do I stop writing because the light has faded, making it hard to continue on; Or, have I stopped because, I myself, have obstructed the light.
I see slight success in the most minor of ways; Yet, I discontinue any further movements. I come to a crossroad in obsolete decisions, and fail to overcome. It's not because I am surrounded by the everlasting impossible, instead I am hindering the next footstep.
My ability to pursue true happiness is only surpassed by my ability to accept it in it's entirety. Moments are given to me everyday where my character is required to act. The primary purpose is for me to make a decision. Whether it have a negative or positive outcome, that's life. True character is shown, not by one's ability to choose right, but rather one's ability to choose at all.
My breath has not been taken from my body, my pulse still beats with a purpose. Rejection runs through our veins, and the beautiful Aphrodite in the corner saying no, will just push me to open my eyes and realize she wasn't real.
If I find myself writing, and the lights dimming, I will find alternative ways to continue on. Nothing in this world can cease our actions but our own surrendering nature. If I stop writing on a count of the lights fading away into the blackness, I know it's not because I leaned out my window and gently blew out the stars..It's because I was too afraid to write in the dark.
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