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| 05.18.03 [Obsession/Dream] |
| Obsession fuels me I believe. Everyone's got to have something to keep them going. Some have jobs, some have other people, some people have dreams. I have dreams. They're all the same dream. I dream of him. I dream of you (if you can hear me). I need him to breath. No I need the idea of him to breath. Part of me wonders how I can live like this. Part of me wonder how I lived before this. My world seems so alive now. Dream-Like Crazy he would say. I can see now what I've been missing and what I've had all along. I like myself like this. I hate myself like this. This is me. This is not the me I'm used to. What to do? What to do? There isn't anything to do. I could try to understand. Or I could just accept. I've been released from no prison. Released from my head. There is a me I would not recognize. He would say this thing inside me is trying to get out. I would say that it's been out for awhile. It's just been hiding, biding it's time, waiting to strike. It senses weakness, it smells it on me. On them. It perpeates everything. It doesn't wash out. He controls it. Could end it. But he doesn't even know the power he holds. His control is effortless and easy and hard and yearning and invisible. His control is comforting. I can give up now. Obsession is like a fuel. We all have something we obsess over. Most don't have what I have though. Idol. Hero. Lover. Fighter. Poet. Artist. Imagined. Real. Tortured, me that is. He is all this and more. He is my obsession. He doesn't even know. He never will. I can see him, he can't see me. I see what I want to see, he sees nothing. He's gone, I wait for his return. He'll be back, I'll be dying. Dream-Like Crazy I would say now. Because one hour ago I slid with him down a rainbow...down a rainbow...not really. We slid down a volcano...not really. I just imagine, blame me. Yours truly, Michelle. Ours truly, this dream...this dream...this dream. |
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