| A letter to my former self.
Dear Self.
I wonder how far back this will go? If I put it in an envelope and mark it: "To My Past," to what point in time will it reach to? Will it go beyond the pain I feel I've felt for so long, yet know hasn't lasted more than a monute? Or will it reach beyond that, to the tormented little boy in the schoolyard, playing alone, ostracized by his peers? Will the Dennis that this letter reaches even understand the idea of pain; or will he think it nothing more than something to scare him to go to bed early at night?
Will I read this letter and laugh at its absurdity? Or will it go only to five minutes ago, as I wrote it, and understand more than I ever would want to? Will I hear my own voice, choked with tears, as I read it aloud; or will I giggle between syllables as I manage through the bigger words?
Will this letter reach a time where friends that are gone are still friends that are here? Will it reach a time long forgotten, when I was happy? A time less painful: a time less true. Will it reach a me that was still confused about who he was, or just beginning to accept the truth for what it was?
Will he be lost? Or worse, will he be found? Will the Dennis that this reaches be with someone, so blissfully unaware that his happiness was about to crash into a thousand shimmering pieces on the winds of tomorrow? Wil he know the pain that I try now to ignore, only to make it worse?
Or maybe it'll reach the pinnacle of my life. The point where things started to go wrong. The point where I lied, the point where I told the truth. The point where people moved away from me on the couch, sliding away in disgust as I try to approach them. The point where I made a complete fool of myself by telling people how I felt for them, that point where I opened my heart up and let the darkness get in.
Will I read this letter and laugh at it, saying it couldn't be true. Or, will I realize that it's all true, and nothing will ever change it?
A letter to: My Former Self.
And now that you're all thouroughly freaked out by my deep introspections... I think it's time I leave this Xanga. Too many memories, too much of myself is in it... and I don't think I can handle looking back at it anymore. The best thing for me... will be to start anew... try to see if I can somehow... forget and move on. I won't post the new name on here, or put it in any of my blogrings... because, well, then people would see it, obviously, and I think the purpose of starting a new Xanga is to... well, keep some secrets a secret. However, if you'd care to follow my story... IM me at LaconicElegy to get my new name... and mayhap I'll give it to you.
So as my goodbye, my Finale , I offer to you, my readers, a poem. It IS one that I've posted before, but I always swore to myself that when I did leave... I'd use this as my goodbye. So... as I've posted a million times too many: Adieu... et tâche d'être heureux.
The Passing of a Day
And one day, far away
I’ll find my place in the morning
Perched high above the sky
Looking down onto the turquoise expanse
That is the ocean
I’ll send my heart out to you
Searching the deep forests and dark caves
For your smiling face
Tearstained cheeks that roll unabashed
Upon an alabaster plane
Meaningless words
Scribed into stone and saved for you
From the fires of fate
As the burn away my heart
Leaving it hollow
Alone in the darkness
Waiting for your light to come to me
Illuminating the underground lake
That serves as the portal
Of my mind
And, except for my millions of admirers
I am alone, dying life
Without your soft hands to guide me through the night
I am lost, like the dream of a million years ago
Into the moonlit skies |
