Sunday, January 4, 2009

Winter comes

You took the only thing from me that allowed me to clear my mind. You took the only thing that ever stopped the voices from screaming in my head non-stop. It’s like living in a machine factory and there is just a hum of white noise with faint voices in the background, and you know they are talking about you, your life, your future. Everything I do now requires thought. When I am not thinking, I am thinking about why I am not thinking. Riding up the mountain I could feel my body relax. Music played lightly in my headphones. I would sit for a second and take in the beauty of this world from my vantage point before dropping into the abyss. Then in an instant the wind would be in my face as I launched downwards. The music and my movements would be in sync. Suddenly the song would end at the very moment that I hit the fresh powder. It was like being on a cloud. Here I am……. Dropping ever more rapidly and the world is totally silent. No wind, no leaves rustling, no birds singing, no people yelling, but most importantly no thoughts. Just a clear head. I wish I could feel that again. I wish I could have my release.

1 comment:

crashtestjeep said...

Just want u to know Ur not alone. I wasn't hit by a drunk driver, but was ejected from my jeep in 2004 while wearing a seatbelt. I broke 26 bones and still suffer every day. Without pain meds, I wouldn't be able to function physically. Why was I on the road that night? Because my house was robbed and was unsafe to sleep in alone. I was a twenty four year old single female. I'm now 34. I lost everything. My home, sold it and used every penny to live while healing, my credit...which hospital had lein on my home so large chunk went to them, my health and almost my life. I should have been home, in my safe place that night. I totally understand every one of Ur emotions and i too, find blogging to be a release. So just know Ur not alone and people hear Ur story...and others out there that know what u feel are reading Ur story. :)

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By believing passionately in something that still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired. - Franz Kafka